#i guess u could count this as a late mother's day post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caroldantops · 3 years

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note from silver: this was not written by me but my lovely 🔑 anon!!! I had zero involvement and am just posting on their behalf ❤❤❤❤❤❤ and i would just like to say omg. omg its very good. so all praise should be directed at them!! [but u can send my way and ill post so they can see :)]

nothing i do better than revenge.

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

w/c: 2.8k

***= time skip

cw: 18+, mentions of cheating, brat reader, mean natasha (comes with her own warning), mdlg, mommy kink, d/s themes, choking/breath play, impact play (face slapping & spanking), crying kink, face riding, strap on use, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, implied legal age gap, strong language

you had long forgotten about the consequences of what you were about to do, because all you cared about was revenge. you knew they were cheating on you, with someone you didn’t even care to think about. but it didn’t matter right? you loved them, or you at least did. the only advantage you had right now was that they had no idea that you knew.

you approached their house and braced yourself for what was likely to happen. you weren’t there for them, no. their mother, natasha, was always incredibly sweet to you, arguably too sweet. but you could hardly say you cared. you felt the effects she had on you every time her eyes lingered on you, every time she was obviously making excuses to be close to you, to touch you, every time she called you “honey, angel, sweetheart” your heart sped up so quickly, it made you dizzy. you had known for a while how you felt about her, it was obvious. but naturally you pushed it away, of course you did. at least now, what you truly wanted makes for perfect revenge.

“hi sweetheart!” natasha said excitedly when she saw it was you at the door. walking through her house, you heard her call out “they’re not here, is that okay? you can wait for them if you want.” you attempted to resist her offer, but it was quickly followed with her worry and fear that something had happened.

“they cheated on me,” you finally admitted. natasha’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh. “i’m so sorry, honey. if there’s anything i can do-“ you quickly cut her off, trying to change the subject to anything but them. “it’s okay, honestly. i’m not even here for them.” natasha raised an eyebrow at you as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “oh? then who are you here for, sweetheart?” she responded, smirking at you. ”oh, i, uh-“ you started, struggling to explain. natasha walked over to you and grabbed your chin to look at her. “come on, y/n, tell me why you’re really here. i know you didn’t come all this way to talk.”

in all honesty, you didn’t know where to begin, but you knew there was no getting out of this, “i just noticed some things about you, things you do” you felt natasha smirk at you again. “oh yeah? and what do i do, sweetheart?” you let out a nervous laugh at what seemed to be her favourite pet name. “that, you call me things like that and you always stare at me- i just thought-“ you felt natasha move impossibly closer to you, “such a clever girl, aren’t you? did you figure that out all by yourself?” she chuckled at the way you responded, all flustered and blushed. something in you couldn’t stop ranting before it came out, when it did, it was too late to backtrack. “i just- i think about you a lot, i can’t stop actually. i can’t stop thinking about touching you and-“ the words came out so quickly, you could barely make sense of them. “so,” she began. “let me get this straight, you came all the way here in hopes that i’d fuck you?” you could try and deny it but you knew it was pointless. you knew exactly what you wanted and so did she.

“would it be so bad if i did? you asked so softly, you doubt she even heard. gripping your hips and pulling you into her, natasha starts kissing and biting your neck softly, “no, sweet girl. it really wouldn’t.” you have to remind yourself to breathe, as this whole ordeal feels like a dream. it’s hard to believe you actually went through with it. natasha’s hand gets lost in your hair as she pulls your head back to look up at her.

“do you want this?” she said softly, and you quickly responded with “yes. i want this, i want you.”

“good,” she sighed. because once i start, i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” you stared back into her eyes and whispered, “i don’t want you to stop.”

***

you left natasha’s house in the early morning, before she woke up. it felt like the right thing to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her all day. the teasing, the biting, the way she praised you, the way she had you whimpering “mommy… please, mommy i need it” over and over again. you were certain that the previous night was ingrained in your brain forever, and you adored every minute of it.

but right now, you had more pressing things on your mind, like exactly how this revenge on your, now ex, partner would go.

***

you felt natasha’s hand grip your shoulder and drag you to her car. you had just performed, a rather fitting, song in front of your ex partner, natasha, and most of the townspeople. your song of choice was “i fucked yr mom,” and maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it did get you what you wanted.

once you arrived back in natasha’s house, you knew it wouldn’t be long before she snapped. she took you by surprise as she pinned you against the wall with her hand around your throat. you barely had a chance to speak before she did. “what the fuck was that, huh? what the fuck are you playing at?”

“didn’t you like it, mommy?” you said with your eyes gleaming up at her, leaving her trying to calm herself before she spoke again. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, princess. you can’t just do shit like that.”

“oh can’t i? you didn’t seem to mind when i was-“ you spoke out, but was quickly cut off by her slapping you across the face. “this is not the time to play games with me, little girl. i’m gonna give you one chance to-“ you interrupted her with something that resembled “when will it be time for that, then? cause this is really boring.” she almost looked offended, shocked even, that you were talking to her in such a way. you honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her angry. definitely not like this, or directly at you. her sour mood could be felt from all around her, everything about her demeanour screamed “i’m furious and you’re making it worse for yourself.” granted, you probably should’ve stopped there, toned it down a little. but for some reason, you just couldn’t. you had to see how much it would take for her to snap. you wanted to see how far she was willing to go.

you watched as she tried to compose herself, taking deep breaths and almost trying to block you out. “when the fuck did you become such a brat, huh? i bet you thought about this every single time you came here, didn’t you?” you genuinely contemplated submitting for a second, but where’s the fun in that? “i don’t know, natasha. can’t you figure it out yourself?” you responded, blatantly yawning and mocking her. you knew you’d fucked up when you were met with her sweetest smile, “if you’re not in my bed and ready for me in two fucking minutes, this entire city is gonna know my name.”

***

it felt like an eternity before you heard natasha walk upstairs, and towards you. you figured that was a part of her plan, keep you waiting and needy, right? she definitely knew the effect she had on you, and knew how to use it to her advantage.

you knelt in the middle of her bed, and she seemed somewhat pleased that you followed at least one of her orders. apart from that, she continued to ignore you, shuffling through drawers. finally, she turned to pay attention to you, and gripped your face to look at her, “look at that, my little brat can obey me.” she almost scoffed at the sight of you, “you’re pathetic, you know that?” “not really, are you about to enlighten me, natasha?” you snapped back.

“you’ve got everyone fooled, haven’t you, angel? they all think you’re so fucking innocent. i guess only i know the truth.”

“worked for you didn’t it? so what’s that then, natasha? you’re boring me again.” you watched as she reached for something you couldn’t see, “you know what, if you wanna act like a brat, i’m gonna treat you like one.” she huffed, before she put you over the edge of the bed, and cuffed your hands behind your back. “oh, fuck.” you mumbled in reaction. “see, here i thought that you were a precious, innocent little thing. turns out you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention.”

“aw, natty, did you figure that all out by yourself? you retorted, repeating last night's words back to her.

natasha’s hand came down on your bare skin with a slap, making you let out a whimper. “oh pretty baby,” she started. “let’s see how much of a brat you are when you’re all red and raw for me. you’re gonna count every single one, angel.”

she pulled you back up close to her chest, whispering “and trust me, sweetheart, we can keep recounting all night if you feel like messing up.” you accidentally let out another whimper, much to natasha’s amusement. “something to say, baby?” you couldn’t see her face, but knew she was almost laughing at you.

“are you gonna count for me?” you let out a small mumble that she couldn’t hear. “what was that? speak up, brat.”

“yes mommy!” you sounded so desperate, you both knew it. but what you didn’t know was how much natasha wanted this, had waited for this. you looked so perfect to her, bent over her bed and tied up just for her, and her alone. she knew getting you to submit to her would be oh so easy. sure, you’ll put on the act of the disobedient slut for a while. but she knew it was just that. an act. one that she will gladly force you out of.

“twenty!” you exclaimed, with tears streaming down your face, after she spanked you over and over again. “please, it’s too much, mommy.” natasha hummed and undid the cuffs, “aw, my poor baby. did mommy make you cry?” she cooed while turning you on your back. she had removed most of her clothes at this point and pushed you down onto the bed. she stroked the hair out of your face before asking, “can you tell me your colour, angel?” “green, mommy. i don’t wanna stop.” you whined. “that’s my good girl, because i am far from fucking done with you yet” her response made chills go down your spine, and you watched her straddle your face. “now, you’re gonna be a very good girl and make me cum before i even think about touching you, am i clear?”

“yes mommy, wanna make you feel good.” you whined, and natasha chuckled at how pathetic how sounded. “what? no bratty remark?” she teased before lowering down to your mouth. as soon as she did, you could swear this was heaven. her pussy looked so pretty glistening above you, you were almost proud of how wet you made her. you gently licked and sucked her clit, “cmon my slut, i know you can do better than that.” she groaned. you licked long stripes through her folds and became completely lost in her, the way her thighs lightly squeezed your head, the way she gripped your hair, the way her taste and scent was intoxicating. she was perfect, you were sure of it. she began to buck her hips and grind against your face once you sped up your pace. “oh fuck, angel, that’s it, right there, don’t stop.” she rambled, as if you would ever stop. “you see what happens to bad girls that disobey me?” she said, tightening her grip on your hair. “bad girls get used like mommy’s toys until they learn to be good again.”

“oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, princess. you wanna mommy to cum all over your pretty face? you gripped her thighs and pulled her pussy even closer to you as you sucked her clit, “oh my god, right there, don’t you fucking stop. i’m gonna- fuck!” she moaned and whimpered as she came above you. you continued licking and sucking her pussy while she rode out her high.

natasha climbed off you and reached for something. once she was back in front of you, she had a strap attached to her hips, and smirked at you as you whimpered at the sight. “see something you like, princess? she teased. you looked up at her and nodded, with heavy eyes and slightly open mouth. “you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” she hummed, lightly slapping your face “mommy’s pretty slut.”

natasha teased your slit with the strap, not quick pushing in yet. “you’ve been such a bad girl, haven’t you? i’m almost disappointed in you.”

“please, please mommy, i need it.” you begged. “oh, now you think you have the right to beg? i guess you’re dumber than i thought.” she teased as she pushed the strap all the way into you, making you whimper loudly.

“i’ve barely started, angel.” she cooed. “put on such a big show for me, and the brat can’t even take mommy’s cock. how pathetic.“

“no, no, i can take it, i swear, please! please give it to me, mommy.” you pleaded. natasha let out a low growl at your words, and began to thrust her strap deep into you. “where did my brat go, honey? you had such much to say earlier.” she was taunting you now, she knew it too.

“i just- fuck! please mommy, i’m so close. i just wanted your attention i swear.”

“oh i know, baby. you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention aren’t you? she continued to rock her hips into you, knowing exactly how close you were. “do you wanna cum, sweetheart? you wanna cum for mommy?” she asked.

“mhm yes, please mommy. please let me cum, i want it so bad.”

“no.” she abruptly pulled her strap out of you and stopped all her movements, making you whimper. “why did you do that, mommy?” you whined.

“why? did you really think i’d let you cum that easily? after the stunt you pulled tonight, you’ll be lucky if you cum at all.” natasha leaned in close to you, and whispered “show me how desperate you are for it.”

“no mommy,” you whined. “don’t wanna beg, please just fuck me.” she almost laughed at how pathetic you were. “i could fuck you all night, honey. that doesn’t mean i’d let you cum. now, come on, princess. don’t make a fool of yourself, tell mommy how badly you need it.”

“please give it to me, mommy, please. i’ll be your good girl, i promise. you don’t understand how badly i needed your attention, how badly i needed you. i won’t be bad ever again, i swear!” you could almost sob in desperation, you needed something, anything. “shhh, love. i’m right here, let me take care of you.” she whispered, before filling you all the way up with her strap. “mommy, it’s so so good, please i need- fuck” you whined, barely able to speak anymore.

“what, precious? what do you need?”

you tried your best to speak through breathy moans, “please play with my clit, mommy i need it” and natasha quickly obliged, circling your clit with her thumb. “oh my- fuck.” you gasped. natasha’s title left your lips like it was a damn mantra. you were completely intoxicated by her, the only thing left in your head was “mommy mommy mommy.”

“want you to cum for me, sweetheart. make a fucking mess on my cock right now.” she commanded. the world around you collapsed as you came, and you shook so hard, that you clinged onto natasha for any kind of stability. you felt her move around you, but couldn’t make out where she was, until you felt her lay next to you and pull you close to her. “there are you are,” she smiled softly at you. “hi mommy” you responded in a whisper. “hi precious girl, are you doing okay?” “yes mommy, i’m so good. can we sleep now, mama?” natasha pulled the blankets over the pair of you and placed gentle kisses on your forehead. “of course we can, sweetheart.”

you knew tomorrow would come with all of the questions, and none of the answers. but all that mattered was that you had natasha, and she had you.

#submission #natasha romanoff x reader #not mine #fic #smut #c: natasha #ITS VERY VERY GOOD KEY ANON #OH MY GOD #i love.#i feel like i got like an exclusive vip first look at this

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kireimarkeu · 3 years

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retrouvailles; l.mk

THIS IS A REPOST!!!!

Summary: counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

Mark is a jerk at one point. Also noticed how I put skype when they were calling through the phone and ft through laptop LOL

word count: 5.7k

Also lets pretend we can use spotify in korea ok

--Day 98

(10:33PM) Cutie: you idiot

(10:33PM) Cutie: answer my call!! You loserrrr

(10:34PM) You: omg give me a second

(10:35PM) You: ffs jshkdmj

(10:35PM) Cutie: omg what are you doing

(10:35PM) Cutie: why are you taking so long

(10:37PM) You: GIVE ME A SECOND

(10:37PM) You: im taking food

You plop onto your bed, placing the plate of grapes on the mattress, resulting in some to topple out of the bowl. You quickly pop one in your mouth before turning on your laptop.

Before you could even call Mark, he was already requesting a facetime with you. You immediately answered.

“Finally,” your boyfriend huffs when the call was finally connected.

You hum, your hands searching for more grapes that has dropped on your bed sheets, popping them in your mouth.

“What are you eating?” he asks.

“Grapes,” your voice came out muffled from chewing, but Mark understands.

“That’s what took you so long?” he frowns, “I can cut a watermelon in 5 seconds,”

“I didn’t ask,” you bite back.

Your boyfriend automatically raises his hand to flash his middle finger while you did the same back at him.

“What time is it there?” you ask him with raised eyebrows.

You were studying in Korea but because of the virus, you had to go back to Canada. You didn’t know how long you would be staying, but Mark had promised you that he would make it work.

“Um,” he looks at the clock that was a hanging next to him, “it’s 2:30PM here,” he answers, looking back at you, “It’s about 11 there, right?”

You nod.

“Don’t you have class tomorrow?” Mark asks.

Lucky for you, your classes has changed to the local timing in Canada. Meaning, you don’t need to stay up at ungodly hours for your classes.

“I think I can wake up tomorrow,”

“Do you want me to call you?”

“Please,” you pout.

Mark scowls jokingly at you, “the things I do for my girlfriend,”

You giggle innocently at your boyfriend, “I love you,” you make a heart with your hands, grinning at your laptop.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes.

--Day 90

“Babe, look up,” you call.

Mark looks up to see you holding your phone up, obviously filming him through the screen.

“What?”

He could hear you grinning from behind your phone.

“Smile,” you instruct.

He grins awkwardly while you let out a snort from behind the screen. You put your phone down, typing something before looking back up at your boyfriend.

“What did you do?”

You look up at him, biting back a smile— to which you failed, “go check Instagram,”

Mark immediately opens Instagram to see that you had posted something on your private Instagram. Only him and the members are following your private account since your relationship is still private.

He clicks on the bubble to see a video of him that you had recorded. When he smiles, his face morphed into a horse from of the filter you were using. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle at the funny effect.

“Okay, that’s kinda funny,” he admits.

He looks back up at you to see you holding your phone in front of your face again, probably trying another filter on him again.

“Is this another ugly filter, again?” whines your boyfriend.

You laugh, your phone not covering your face anymore, “it’s not!”

“Don’t lie,”

Your giggles got louder, “it’s not! I swear!”

“Fine,” he huffs. He straightens his back and stares at the camera, waiting for you to finish recording.

You put your phone down re-watching the video, chuckles leaving your lips.

“What filter did you use?”

“It’s on my insta, baby,”

He looks down on his phone again to see that you have posted another story. He immediately clicks on it to see it was an NCT filter.

‘Who is your NCT Bias?’ Was written on top of his head.

Mark waits for the filter to show the result. He grimaced when he got Jeno. He swipes up to reply to your story to send you a message.

markleeee99 replied to your story: ewww

--Day 87

(1:18PM) mwark: hello baby

(1:20PM) you: wht im having class rn

(1:20PM) mwark: so

(1:25PM) you: i have class??? go away loser

(1:25PM) mwark: :( I just wanna talk to my girlfriend tho :/

(1:27PM) you: later

(1:27PM) mwark: nooo

(1:33PM) you: omg youre an idol why are you so free

(1:34PM) you: go dance or rap or smth

(1:34PM) mwark: babyyyy

(1:35PM) you: im putting my phone on dnd

(1:35PM) mwark: nooo

(1:35PM) mwark: babe

(1:40PM) mwark: did you actually leave me D:

(1:40PM) mwark: ok whatev

(1:40PM) mwark: I was about to send you something but I guess I won’t now

(1:40PM) mwark: are you still ignoring me????

(1:41PM) mwark: omg babe I was jst joking I’ll send you some gifts

(1:41PM) mwark: booo u suck :(

--Day 81

This time, it was slightly different. Instead of your usual late-night calls through the computer, you had immediately skype him through your phone when you had received a package from Korea.

“You got me something?” you ask loudly when your boyfriend answered your call.

“Jeez, hello to you too, babe,” he rolls his eyes, “and yea, did it arrive?”

“What did you get me? And what type of shipping did you choose? It arrived so quickly,”

The box was pretty heavy, so you had to put your phone down to place the huge box on the counter before bringing your phone back into view.

“Express, I paid like extra,” Mark answers, eyeing you through the screen.

You click your tongue, opening the drawer to take out a knife, “stop wasting your money, you dumbass,”

Mark didn’t reply, instead he waits for you to open the package.

You let out a sigh, “what did you get me this time?”

You open the cardboard box, a navy-blue hoodie covering the top of it. You pull it out, looking at Mark who has a smile plastered on his face.

“Is this your hoodie?!” you squeal, putting it on yourself.

Your heart melt when the familiar scent fills your nostrils. It smells just like Mark.

“Canada is getting cold isn’t it? Keep yourself warm, baby,”

You lean over to take everything out from the box. Mark had given you his half-used cologne that he uses on a daily.

“I bought a new one just so I could give you mine,” he tells you, a playful smirk on his lips.

He had also packed some of your favourite Korean snacks, and some that you haven’t tried before. Along with some matching phone cases for the both of you.

“Now I feel bad I didn’t get anything for you,” you frown., pulling the hoodie over your head.

“Don’t be,” he reassures you, “being able to see you is already enough,”

You scrunch your nose in disgust, “cringey, Mark-ie,”

“Fuck you,” he chuckles, flashing his middle finger at you.

Your eyes widen when he cursed, “my mom’s home, you idiot!”

You laugh loudly when Mark’s eyes widen in surprise, both his hands covering his mouth.

“Y/N?” you hear your mom call from the living room, “who are you talking to?”

Before you could even reply, your mother was walking towards you.

“It’s Mark,” you answer as your mother got into frame to see Mark.

“Mark! It has been a while, how’s Korea?”

Your boyfriend greeted your mom politely, a grin plastered on his face. Your mom was about to reach for your phone to talk to Mark, but you frown and pull away.

“Noo, I wanna talk to Mark,”

You gathered the gifts Mark had given you in your arms before skipping up the stairs to your room, to spend the whole day (night for him) with him.

--Day 80

“Yo, Mark, there’s some food left outside, do you want it?” you heard Johnny ask from through the screen.

Mark turns to look at the intruder, “knock next time, dude,” groans Mark.

“Is that y/n?”

Johnny suddenly enters the frame with a gummy grin, waving enthusiastically at you.

“Hi Johnny, how are you?” you smile, waving back at the older boy.

Just when Johnny was about to get comfortable on Mark’s bed, your boyfriend let out string of whines, moving his phone until you could only see his cheeks.

“Ah, that’s enough,” your boyfriend says in annoyance, “y/n is tired, goodnight, baby.”

You couldn’t even reply because Mark had already ended the skype call.

You pout, opening your messenger to send a text to your boyfriend.

(7:35PM) You: heyyy why’d you end the call? ):

(7:36PM) Bubba: sorry

(7:36PM) Bubba: johnny was being annoying

(7:36PM) You: he wasn’t tho ):

(7:36PM) You: can we call again?

(7:38PM) Bubba: sorry angel

(7:38PM) Bubba: johnny wants me to go make music

(7:38PM) Bubba: later tonight?

(7:38PM) You: oky

(7:42PM) You: love u!

(7:42PM) Bubba: love u too

(7:42PM) Bubba: <3

--Day 76

You were in the middle of facetiming mark when your phone vibrates from a text. You raise your eyebrows, thinking it was Mark.

(12:11AM) Johnny: hey

(12:11AM) Johnny: I need to ask you something

(12:13AM) You: yeah?

(12:13AM) Johnny: is mark okay lately?

(12:13AM) You: he seems fine to me, why? Did something happen?

(12:14AM) Johnny: I don’t know if I should tell you about this

(12:14AM) Johnny: but

(12:14AM) Johnny: youre the only one who can probably help him

(12:14AM) You: help him with what?

You look up at your laptop to see that Mark’s eyes was still glued on his phone. Probably playing some games.

(12:17AM) Johnny: he hasn’t been eating lately

(12:19AM) Johnny: he doesn’t really tell us stuff anymore so I was wondering you would’ve known something?

(12:22AM) You: oh

(12:22AM) You: he hasn’t told me anything

(12:23AM) You: I’ll talk to him about it

(12:25AM) You: thanks johnny :)

“Hey,” you jump at your boyfriend’s voice. You snap your head to look at your boyfriend who was already staring at you with curious eyes. “What are you so busy with?”

You clear your throat, shaking your head, tossing your phone to the side.

“I wanna ask you something,” you say.

“Whats up?”

You scratch your head, unsure of how to put it into words without offending your boyfriend. You knew he hated being babied but you still want to care for him. He was your other half, after all.

“Have you been eating well lately?”

You could sense Mark was stunned by the random question. He looks away from your wary eyes.

“Who told you?”

“Mark—”

“It was Johnny wasn’t it?” he cuts you off in anger. “God damn it, this is why I don’t want you talking to my friends,”

Why was he making this such a big deal?

“Mark I was just asking a simple question, why are you acting this way?” you argued back.

He shakes his head, threading his fingers through his black hair stressfully.

“I need to go Y/N,” sighs your boyfriend, “Goodnight,”

“Mark—” you were too late. Mark had already ended the call.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you lied down on your bed.

You weren’t sure if you should text him or give him space. Should you apologize? Was it your fault for bringing it up?

After thinking for a while, you decided to send him a text.

(8:33PM) You: hi baby. I was just asking because I was worried about you. I know you hate it when I baby you, but I’m just looking out for you. I didn’t mean to bother you

(8:33PM) You: please don’t blame your friends for this.

(8:36PM) You: I’m sorry, okay?

(8:40PM) You: I just want you to eat healthily. I’m not there to take care of you and I just want you to be healthy.

(8:47PM) You: just text me whenever so we can talk this out

(8:57PM) You: goodnight, mark

--Day 75

(12:03PM) Lovey: hey

(12:03PM) Lovey: I was thinking and realised how selfish I acted towards you

(12:05PM) Lovey: I know you were just looking out for me and I was just wasn’t in the mood because of how stressful it has been

(12:05PM) Lovey: please don’t apologize. Its my fault

(12:15PM) You: why haven’t you been eating?

(12:15PM) Lovey: comeback

(12:15PM) Lovey: I’m trying to lose some cheeks for this comeback

(12:30PM) Lovey: sorry for worrying you

(12:31PM) You: whaa…

(12:33PM) You: but you know my favourite part of your face is your cheeks D:

(12:33PM) Lovey: :(

(12:33PM) You: will you start eating again?

(12:35PM) You: im not going to force you, mark. It’s really up to you.

(12:35PM) Lovey: im eating right now

(12:35PM) You: what are you eating

(12:38PM) Lovey: cereal

(12:38PM) Lovey: and um some left over sushi from yesterday

(12:38PM) You: ohhh sounds delicious

(12:40PM) You: okay I wont disturb you anymore, have fun eating bby

As you were about to put your phone away but there was an incoming videocall from your boyfriend. A small chuckle left your lips as you answered the call.

--Day 73

“Yo, did you see it?!” was the first thing Mark had asked you when you answered his call.

You raise your eyebrows in confusion, sitting up from your laying position, “see what?”

“We just posted a new dance practice; did you not see it?” his eyes widen dismay.

You shook your head, grabbing your laptop from the table, placing it on your lap, “nope, my phone was on dnd,”

“How did you answer my call, then?”

“You’re in my favourites dumbass,”

You type in your password before searching YouTube and clicking on the video that your boyfriend was talking about.

While watching the video, you placed your phone resting on the laptop so Mark could see your face. Throughout the whole video, you were singing softly to the song.

“Did you see that?! Did you see it?” Mark suddenly yells through the screen during the dance break part.

You jump a little, “what? What? What did I miss?”

He groans at you, “the bracelet! Johnny dropped it!”

“Huh?” you press the arrow to repeat it again and you noticed how Johnny’s bracelet fell while he was dancing.

“Wait a little more, I picked it up! Like a professional!”

You waited a little longer and your boyfriend was right. While he was getting into position, your boyfriend had swept the bracelet in his hands.

You grin, “proud of you, babe,”

You wanted to continue watching but your laptop started lagging from the terrible wi-fi. You groan in annoyance, pressing pause, hoping it would reload but it only hangs even more.

“God damnit, this fucking wi-fi,”

“Should I buy you a router? Or a new laptop?” he jokes.

--Day 71

(9:02PM) You: hey wanna call?

(9:02PM) You: today was so stressful I just wanna talk to you

(10:12PM) You: ahh you must be busy with comeback

(9:32PM) You: sorry babe! We’ll jst call tmr? :)

(9:33PM) You: love u! make sureee u drink lots of water <3

-Day 67

Mark lets out an aspirated sigh as he answers your facetime call. “What, Y/N?”

You frown at the way he greets you. He was moody probably because he just finished practicing.

You could tell from how he was laying on his bed without a shirt on, or how he would repeatedly thread his fingers through his black locks.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” you mumble out softly, your eyes softening, feeling guilty that you were disturbing him.

You bit your lip anxiously when Mark simply sighs, rolling his eyes slightly, “should we just call another time?”

He sighs once more, moving around until he lays on his side, “no, no, what’s up?”

You felt a little hesitant, unsure if he was being sarcastic or not. Mark wasn’t the type to approach something if he doesn’t like it, he would just go with the flow.

You shook your head, laying back down onto your bed, “No, you’re tired and I shouldn’t be disturbing you right now.”

Mark opens his mouth but you cut him off, “Sorry, Mark. Goodnight.”

You quickly end the call with a heavy heart, throwing your phone next to you. You knew you shouldn’t be expecting an incoming call from your boyfriend, but you shamelessly waited for his specific ringtone.

It did break your heart a little when you didn’t get any response from your boyfriend.

That night, you had spent your time watching Netflix with tears rolling down your cheeks.

-Day 62

“Y/N?”

A choked sob left your throat, your hands wiping the tears running down your cheeks.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Johnny’s voice filled your ears.

You gulp as your heart clench painfully when you hear Mark’s laughter in the background.

“Y/N, d-do you want me to pass the phone to Mark?”

“N-no,” you quickly say out, pausing a little. Hiccups leaving your lips, “d-don’t… please,”

“Okay?” Johnny replies in uncertainty, “Are you… okay? Should I beat Mark up?” he jokes.

You couldn’t bring yourself to smile. “How is he doing?” you whisper, but Johnny could hear very clearly.

You assumed that he had moved somewhere else since you can’t hear the boys screaming in the background.

“Did something happen?” Johnny asks, “I’m not with them right now, so you can tell me.”

You remember the last time you had last talked to Mark.

It has been exactly 5 days since the both of you last texted— or even called. You weren’t sure why or how it happened.

It had taken a big toll on you— you couldn’t focus during lessons and you had spent most of the nights wide awake, thinking what had gone wrong. You had contemplated multiple times whether you should send him a text, but every time you push yourself to say something, you would always remember how busy he is.

“We haven’t been talking for a while,” you answer painfully, “but he’s doing fine, right?”

You hope he’s doing fine.

You hear Johnny lets out an agitated sigh, “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll go talk to him, okay?”

“Just… don’t stress him out even more.”

“I won’t. Just… stop crying over him, okay?” he says, “Mark is an idiot, he’s not worth crying over.”

A small giggle leaves your lips, “you sound like a girl right now,”

-Day 61

(12:12AM) Mark: hey babe

(12:12AM) Mark: johnny just talked to me about what happened

(12:13AM) Mark: can we talk?

(12:45AM) You: okay

(12:45AM) Mark: great, I’ll call you

(12:45AM) You: no

(12:46AM) You: we’ll text

(12:46AM) You: here

You just know that you would be a sobbing mess once you hear Mark’s voice.

(12:46AM) Mark: oh

(12:46AM) Mark: okay

(12:46AM) Mark: youre okay tho

(12:47AM) Mark: right

(12:52AM) You: mhm

(12:52AM) Mark: that’s great um

(12:52AM) Mark: i didn’t know you were feeling that way

(12:53AM) Mark: i’ve been so busy lately i forgot to text or call you

(12:53AM) Mark: and that is not your fault at all

(12:53AM) Mark: i shouldn’t be acting like that in the first place

(12:54AM) Mark: its just really hard with timezones and everything

(12:54AM) Mark: especially with the comeback and all

(12:54AM) You: what are you saying mark?

(12:55AM) Mark: what?

(12:58AM) You: are you breaking up with me?

(12:58AM) Mark: wat? no. what.

(12:58AM) You: wait so we’re not breaking up?

(12:58AM) Mark: what

(12:58AM) Mark: no of course not what are you saying?

(12:59AM) You: I DON’T KNOW

(12:59AM) You: i thought you wanted to break up

(12:59AM) Mark: no I don’t want to what the fuck

(12:59AM) You: so we’re good now right?

-Day 51

Soft melodies were playing in the background while the both of you were doing different things.

You were sitting on your chair, your elbows pressing painfully against your desk, working on your homework diligently. Your phone was perched on your lamp, making sure Mark could see your face.

Your boyfriend was laying on his bed with a notebook laying in front of him, a pen in his hand while he thought of lyrics. He had his legs swinging back and forth behind him cutely.

You exhale loudly as you re-read the same question over and over again.

Mark immediately looks up, “you okay?”

You hum without even looking at him before you continued doing your work.

Mark decides to leave you alone as to not distract you. He rests his cheek against his arm as he tries to think of another sentence to finish the song he was working on.

His eyes slowly dart towards you who had their eyebrows furrowed cutely, a pout plastered on your lips, baby hairs littering against your forehead and cheeks.

Without even realising, a small smile spreads across Mark’s lips. His breath slows down as he relaxed and stares at your figure.

Multiple sentences that could be used as lyrics flooded through his head. He quickly sits up to write the flood of inspiration that was bursting through his veins.

-Day 43

(2:53AM) boyfie: duuudee!!

(2:53AM) boyfie: vlive!!

(2:53AM) boyfie: quick!!!!!

(3:15AM) You: omg ok give me a sec

(3:15AM) You: I just woke up

With a yawn, you open the vlive app and click on the NCT127 page to enter the live your boyfriend was doing.

‘Hi’ you type in the comment section. You stare at your boyfriend, scanning his facial expression to notice your comment.

Exactly 5 seconds later, a huge grin spreads across his lips as he looks up at the camera to wave.

It eased you to know that he was waving at you, for you. Maybe you were being selfish, but you were glad that Mark was yours. Although it does get on your nerves when you see your friends post about how much he loves your boyfriend.

‘mark is so handsome’ you typed.

Unfortunately, Mark didn’t notice your comment, but Donghyuck did. Donghyuck nudges your boyfriend, who immediately responded, turning to look at him.

His friend showed him your comment, which your boyfriend immediately smiles to.

‘I love mark lee so much!!!’

A few seconds later Mark creates a small heart at the camera before looking away with crimson red cheeks.

-Day 38

“So you and Mina, huh?” you say bitterly, rolling your eyes.

You were referring to the interaction between the two when Mina was leaving music bank. You might’ve been slightly jealous of the chemistry between the two, especially when all the fans would ship the both of them.

Mark can only watch you in amusement, a small smile playing along his lips.

“Is she better than me?” you say sarcastically, clicking your tongue,

You envied their friendship. Someone who was merely a friend was able to see your boyfriend so easily.

His face softens, “you know she’s not like that, baby,” his tone was soft, easy to persuade you.

Baby. You wanted to scoff at that. He only used that term when he was trying to win your heart.

You huff, crossing your arms violently. “You’re always with her!”

He chuckles, looking down at his phone before looking back up at you quickly.

You pout at the boy through the screen, “you love me more, right Mark?”

He sarcastically rolls his at your question. What kind of question was that?

His face scrunches in disgust, “Firstly, I don’t even love Mina that way, babe,” he tells you, “and secondly, the only person I love you, alright? So stop being jealous you wimp.”

“Wimp?” you scoff, “and you’re my boyfriend?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Just as you were about to respond to him, your phone vibrated with a notification. You look down and gaped.

_happiness_o wants to send you a message.

“Mark…”

You unlocked your phone to see the message that Mina was trying to send you.

“You told her?!” you exclaimed, looking up at your boyfriend who was stifling his laughter. “Mark! Why would you do that?!” you whine, throwing your phone next to you.

“In my defence, I didn’t tell her to send you a text,” he says, “I was just talking about how cute you were being!”

-Day 22

You were laying on your side, deep in a slumber while Mark stares at you lovingly.

Your cheek pressed cutely against your pillow which made your lips pout cutely. The little pieces of hair adorning your temples and cheeks only made Mark want to push it back against your ear. Something he would do every time you were sleeping with him.

He suddenly got an idea and fishes out his phone, searching a filter that he had saved for this particular moment.

He clicks on the filter, waiting for it to load for a moment, before adjusting the angle so the filter could scan his face properly. Once he was sure it won’t budge, he presses record.

‘your soulmate is sleeping right now’

A sad smile adorns his lips, looking at you through the screen. He flips the camera, zooming into your sleeping form then ending the video.

Mark was quite hesitant to post it since he was never the type to post about his relationship with you. But these past few days has been hitting him differently.

He missed you so much, he swore he could go crazy. He had spent another unreasonable amount on you again. He couldn’t even sleep because you were always stuck on his mind.

He bit his lip anxiously before posting the video on his Instagram story. He noticed how your phone vibrated right when it was uploaded— you had his notifications on.

-Day 15

“So it’s gonna be forever~” you sing loudly, pointing your hairbrush to Mark who was laughing loudly through the screen.

“Or it’s gonna go down in flames…” he sings off tune.

While you were busy singing and dancing from all Taylor Swift’s song, Mark had stealthily recorded you with his phone to upload them on his private Instagram.

‘idiot. But my idiot’ he captioned before tagging you and posting it on his page.

“Sing with me, Mark!” you shout, looking at your boyfriend. “Cherry lips, crystal skies, I could show you incredible things,” you sang, pointing at Mark.

Your boyfriend blushes when he realizes you were singing to him.

You cough loudly before clearing your throat after blaring out lyrics to Taylor swift. You reach for your cup of water before gulping it down.

“What song should we sing to next?” you ask, scrolling down through you and Mark’s playlist. The both of you had shared one account ever since he found out the both of you shared the same music taste.

“Should we do a rap?” he suggests.

You smirk up at him, “oooh, because you’re a rapper, huh? Okay, okay.”

You thumb press on ‘Beauty and a Beat’ by Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj.

“I’m a better rapper than you, Mark Lee,” you shout at your boyfriend before rapping to Nicki Minaj’s part.

It was so adorable at how you stumbled over some words, or when you had your eyebrows furrowed trying to rap to the lyrics.

At this moment, Mark thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You had your hair tied up in the ugliest bun he has ever seen, but you looked so adorable, especially in the huge t-shirt you were wearing. But most importantly, the huge grin plastered on your lips and tint of red adorning your cheeks, puts a smile on Mark’s face.

Right when the song has ended, you let out a tired sigh, lying against your bed.

“Am I better than you, Markie?”

He bit back a smile and nodded, “you should replace me in NCT, babe,”

You pretend to think, “I should, shouldn’t I?”

-Day 7

You were talking about Mark about your friend who had pissed you off earlier today.

He shrugs, “honestly, I saw that coming. I never liked her,”

You groan, throwing your head back, “I know right,” you stress, “I should’ve listened to you,”

Mark rests his cheek against his palm, “so what are you going to do?”

You pout, “I don’t know. What should I do, Mark?”

Your boyfriend hums, thinking for a while, “I think it’s best if you cut her off. She doesn’t deserve you, babe.”

You let out an aspirated sigh, frowning. “she was just a close friend…” you trailed off sadly.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “but your mental health is important too.”

Your eyes widen cutely, “I love you,”

That caught your boyfriend off-guard, his eyes widen in awe. “w-what, don’t be weird!” he sputters out.

“You’re weird!” you bite back.

-Day 3

“Mark,” you call out, your boyfriend immediately humming. “I learnt a new tiktok dance,”

He raises his eyebrows. He has never downloaded Tiktok but he knows how much you love the app. Most of the time the both of you were calling, you would be scrolling through the app, sending him links of videos that you found funny.

It was a secret: Mark never actually watches the video. But you do not need to know that.

“Show me, baby,”

You stood up, adjusting your laptop in a decent position. You reach for your phone to play the music before you started dancing.

Mark recognized the song as Savage. It was a song that Taeyong would constantly play.

Your boyfriend’s eyes widen in bewilderment, amazed at how good you were at dancing.

“Woah, woah,” he gapes when you started throwing back.

When the song ended, you ambled towards your laptop, “how was it? Was I good? Was I as good as Taeyong and Johnny?”

He rolls his eyes at that, “do you do it to other people?”

“What?”

“The throwing back thing,”

Ah. He was jealous.

You shrug, looking away from his intense gaze, “I don’t know. I was planning to ask some of my friends about their opinion.”

“Y/N,” he says sternly.

“I was joking! Jeez. You’re such a party pooper.”

-Day 2

You laid on your side, your arm supporting your head. A movie was playing on your laptop screen but you could only stare at Mark’s face.

He was busy laughing at one of the scenes but you couldn’t focus from his handsome face.

He was wearing the ugly black glasses that he chose a few weeks ago, but he still looked so good in your eyes. His black hair was styled messily from laying around.

“Babe, are you watching?” his eyes widen cutely after sensing how quiet you were being.

“I am,” you mumble out, but your eyes never leaved your boyfriend’s screen.

“Okay,” he whispers, resting his body as he continued watching the movie that was played on the screen.

At this moment in time, you wanted to tell Mark how much you love him. You wanted to smother him in kisses.

“Mark,” you called. You realise how he had paused the movie that was playing to listen to you. “I love you,” you tell him.

Mark was frozen for a second, confused yet flustered by your sudden confusion. He smirks, playing the movie, “weirdo. I love you too, you cutie.”

-Day 1

(11:01PM) bub: babyyyy hiiiii

(11:01PM) bub: wanna call ;)

(11:05PM) bub: hello why r u not replying

(11:05PM) bub: it’s only 11 there

(11:10PM) bub: I know youre not asleep babe

(11:10PM) bub: arghhh

(11:10PM) bub: are you asleep????

(11:10PM) bub: :(

(11:10PM) bub: well ok gn bb I’ll talk to you tmr

(11:10PM) bub: love youuuu

D-DAY

You were laying on Mark’s bed restlessly, waiting for your boyfriend to reach his dorm. When you heard the door unlock, a grin spread across your lips when you saw your boyfriend walk in.

“Hi Mark,” you greet, waving at your boyfriend.

Mark looks up at you and nods, “hi y/n,” he says back before turning the other way to go to the bathroom.

You bit back a smile quietly, giving him a minute to realise. You quietly stood up by the bed to amble towards your boyfriend.

“Wait,” he pauses, turning around slowly, his eyes widening at the sight of you walking up to him, “w-what? Is this real? y/n?”

You smile at him, spreading your arms, waiting for him to tackle you in a hug. “I’m here, baby.”

“Oh my god,” he breathes out before rushing towards you to pull you against his chest. “You’re here, oh my god,”

You rest your head on his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. You’ve missed the moment for so long. For more than 3 months, you had to live without Mark’s presence.

He pulls you away, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “How— what are you doing here?!” he exclaims.

Your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, “to see you, of course!”

“You surprised me!” he exclaims, pulling you in for another hug, “oh my god, you scared me so much, I love you so much. When did you get here? You didn’t answer my texts yesterday!”

“I love you too and I was in the plane, I couldn’t text you back,” you reply, however your voice was muffled by the black cotton shirt he was wearing. You pull away, looking up at him, “are you not going to kiss me?” you asked abruptly.

He looks down at you with wide eyes, “w-what. That is so sudden, don’t say that!” he stutters out, looking away from you.

You pout at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “what? I came all the way here, didn’t get enough sleep just to see my boyfriend but he won’t kiss me?”

He scowls at you, his arm dropping to rest around your waist. He leans down to connect both your lips. You felt your heart spark when you felt his lips graze against yours.

You didn’t even realise you were pulling him down even more to kiss him deeper. Mark’s grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer.

“Ah, the kids have finally met,” you heard someone say from behind you two.

Mark and you pull away breathlessly, his lips tinted a bright shiny red. The both of you turn around to see Taeil standing at the door.

Your boyfriend whines, “Go away, Hyung,”

501 notes · View notes

halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

Text

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

———

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

———

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

———

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence.

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at #motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also #lol wtf was that ending #anyways #yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl #i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me #lmao #anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen #is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh #ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????

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saltymiraculer · 4 years

Text

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

So I decided to try my hand at the “Marinette, the princess of China” trope and see how I did! Tell me what you think?

Also, the first chapter is going to be fluffy, the second chapter’ll have a sprinkling of salt, and the third chapter will be a mix of piles and piles of salt and some fluff. Be warned!

“I’ve got a big, big, big announcement for you today, class!“ Bustier chirped, clapping her hands to get their attention. “China’s princess will be coronated in a week and a half, the day she turns 18, as many of you know, and one class from the school will be selected to travel to China and watch the ceremony. Guess which class it was?“

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

“Ooh, M. D’Argencourt’s? They’ve wanted that trip for weeks!“

“No, class, it’s ours! In three days, we’ll board the plane to Asia and have a few days to sightsee and explore, then attend the coronation on the second-to-last day!“

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

Marinette knew exactly why. Marc had told her that the entire school was sick of Lila’s lies and wanted to enjoy the coronation without her butting in in the middle of the assembly to tell a ‘story’ about herself.

But she couldn’t just say that.

“You know, I actually know the princess,“ Lila said, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “But her identity is being kept a secret for now. That’s how we landed the trip!“

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

“They know that’s stupid, right?“ Alya stage-whispered, earning a glare from Lila’s new puppy–more commonly known as Kim. She shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ the truth!“

Alya, who was now her only other supporter next to Nino (and technically Adrien, but she’d discuss that later–it was very complicated), had decided to Google Lila’s name during a sleepover and found…some rather incriminating Facebook posts.

After that, she was 100% team Marinette and an amazing friend, along with Nino, who had decided that he needed a theme song. No one knew why.

But they loved him anyways!

So while Bustier was rattling off facts about Chinese emperors and kings and queens, Nino was showing them his latest idea to expose Lila.

“Okay,“ he started. “First, we go to China. Then we do our sightseeing and shit, and then. I did some research, and we can ask the princess questions if we’re with a national news channel. Alya’s blog counts. For real, we can talk to the princess of China. And we ask her if she knows Lila.“

“Brilliant plan, Nino. I wonder how the princess will react to a few teenagers in the middle of a crowd of famous people.“

Nino frowned. “The princess is only, like, 17. She’ll probably notice us, Als.”

“Oh, that reminds me, your birthday’s on the same day as the coronation, Marinette! Weird, isn’t it? That you and the princess have the same birthday?“ Alya asked, pulling out her phone and swiping through something.

“Huh, yeah. You’re right. Maybe we can invite her to my birthday party?“

“Ooh, the wiki page says she likes custard buns, and I’m not sure how they know that,“ Nino chuckled. “but make sure to stock up on those.“

“Noted,“ Marinette said drily as Bustier turned to them with a condemning look on her face. “Alya! I hope what you’re doing on that phone relates to the lesson!“

“China’s princess’s identity is being kept a secret because the last two were sent death threats, dangerous items, highly innapropriate items, and several other things that prompted them to not reveal the princess until it was necessary.“

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

“Nice!“ Marinette mouthed, high-fiving Alya, who flipped her phone around to reveal a website about the princess.

-🌸-

The final bell rang as several of the students cheered. One school day until the trip over, three more to go. Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and bumped Marinette’s elbow. “We goin’ to your place to hang out?”

“Yeah, my dad’s out anyways and mom closed the bakery for the afternoon. let’s go!“ Alya took Nino’s hand and walked the short distance to Marinette’s house. They entered and immediately felt something off.

Ah, there it was.

Sabine was leaning over the counter with a cup of very strong-smelling peppermint tea beside her. She was rubbing her temples and muttering to herself in rapid Mandarin.

“Maman? Are you alright?“ Marinette asked worriedly. Alya and Nino stood by the door–they had only seen her like this once before, when her cousin had been run over and killed.

“Yes, dear, everything’s okay, it’s just–there’s something I need to tell you.“

“Oh, no, did something happen to someone?“

“No, no, everyone’s just fine. I can’t not tell you without there being serious problems.“

“So what is it? What’s so important you had to close the bakery?“

“You’re the princess. China’s princess. The one nobody knows about.“

“I’m what?!“ Marinette screeched, grabbing at her hair. “I’m the heir to the throne of the most populated country in the world, and you waited until a week before the coronation to tell me?!“

“Holy shit.“ Alya and Nino said simultaneously. Sabine stared at them, likely just realizing they were there.

“Oh. They know now, too. Perfect, that’s just what we need, a reporter knowing who–“

“Maman! Alya wouldn’t tell a soul, I know she wouldn’t.“

Sabine turned to Alya. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m just stressed. With that trip to China in a few days and all that, we’ll have to close down the bakery for about a week.”

“And we never close down the bakery.“ Marinette finished, putting a steady hand on her mom’s shoulder. “But I know just the person to run it while we’re gone.“

As she was about to say who exactly would run the bakery, Nino backed into the door, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My best friend…holy shit.“

“Nino, I know this is a lot, but we’ll have to stay calm,“ Alya said, grabbing his hand. “So we don’t spill her secret. That’s top priority, all right? Don’t–tell–anyone.“

Nino sighed. “Sorry, babe. This…“ he turned to Marinette. “Do you have any cookies?“

Marinette grinned and led them into the kitchen. “Of course! Chocolate chunk or raspberry frosted?“

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

After a quick cookie interval, Marinette pushed her plate away and sighed. “Anyone up for an impromptu sleepover? You all left a bunch of your clothes here the last few times.”

“Marinette. If you know us, you will know our answers.“ Alya said solemnly.

“Hell yeah. Wanna go choose which terrible rom-com to watch this time?“

They ended up settling on The Kissing Booth, one of Marinette’s personal favorites (”To lighten the tension, you know?” Alya had said. “Although the tension in here probably weighs the same as an obese hippopotamus at this point.”) and made a bowl of caramel popcorn, with a tiny bag of sea-salt Skinny Pop for Nino.

“Sugar on popcorn is a crime, man. I ain’t touching that.“

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

“Yes, and I hated it. Is there anything else to be said?“

So they spent the next two hours in a blanket fort that was made almost entirely of throw pillows laughing over Elle and Noah and Lee being idiots, with a few highlights such as the iconic “Ninth grade skirt, eleventh grade body” scene, where Alya snorted and said “You know, Lila’s skipped so much school, might as well be ninth grade brain, eleventh grade work.”

“Too true,“ Nino agreed. “The other day, she called Chloe’s mom Aurora Bourgeois. That was a pretty major mess-up.”

“Shhh! Let’s just watch the movie!“ Marinette said, effectively quieting them down.

They watched the rest in silence with the usual laughs., ending up falling asleep halfway through the second movie, snuggled up on their respective couches. Marinette mother shook them awake the next morning, telling them to take showers and eat breakfast and get dressed and for god’s sake, Marinette, finish your homework.

“Crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! Nino, we’re going to be late if we don’t get ready fast!“ Alya shouted as Marinette ran up the stairs to change. “Can I use your shower, M?“

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

After about 10 minutes of running around and shoving waffles in their mouths, they grabbed their bags and ran off to school.

They burst through the door in the nick of time, the bell ringing just as they plunked down their things.

Bustier wasn’t there five minutes into the class, so they started talking.

“Marinette, you have to listen to Nino’s latest track, it’s–“ Just as she was about to describe Nino’s latest track, a bouncy-ball the size of a walrus snashed through the wall, nearly taking off Kim’s head.

There was a cackle from outside. “I am Gradack! You will all feel the same sorrow that I did!“

-🌸-

The fight was over relatively fast, and everything was calmed down and restored before their next class. Turns out Chat Noir didn’t show, so Marinette had to ask Alya for assistance.

In hindsight, she probably should have picked a better place to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!“ After she transformed, she was about to go to Fu to get one of the Miraculous, when she heard a strangled gasp.

“…shit.“

“My best friend is the princess of goddamn China and Ladybug? What the fuck?! Who are you? How did I not know? When did–“

“Alya, I know the feeling, but you can’t tell anyone. Got it?“

“Nino?“

“Well,“ Marinette paused to think. “Yeah, I guess. I trust him enough. Now, take this and transform!“ she tossed Alya the hexagonal box, and after a quick transformation, they ran off to defeat the saddened graduate of an akuma.

As she said, it was an easy fight.

They comforted the victim with four minutes (each) to spare, then ran back to the locker rooms to transform back.

Time Skip!

It was the morning of the flight to China, and she was ecstatic. Of course, she had to get up at 3:45 in the morning, but it was worth it–the flight took off at six in the morning, of course.

She could see the logic of wanting to arrive at 12:00, but she would’ve much preferred a red-eye.

Then she wouldn’t have had to stay up all night reading, because no way in hell would she just wake up at 3:45 in the morning.

The alarm would’ve had to go off for hours.

But back to the morning, she poured herself a sasquatch-sized mug of coffee, with about a gallon of cream and enough sugar to put an entire city of diabetics into shock, she started getting dressed.

Trudging around and haphazardly pulling out shirts, she finally decided on a simple red-and-orange flannel, a white t-shirt, and a pair of cropped jeans.

The she downed the rest of her coffee with an apathetic “Bottoms up!” and slapped her cheeks.

She grapped her suitcase and walked outside to where her mother was typing away on a laptop in the pitch-black night.

“Mom, why are you up?“

“Because I have to drive you to the airport, that’s why. And no alarm would be able to wake me up at 3 in the morning.“

“Preach. I’m ready to go, so can we get in the car now?“

After driving to the airport and saying goodbye to her mom, she walked into the airport and immediately saw the group of sleepy teens (and a certain disheveled teacher) leaning on their suitcases, trying not to fall asleep.

Nino and Marinette were already there, their eyelids drooping. The only person who looked properly awake was Sabrina, who was–inevitably–holding a saucer out to Chloé, who was sipping from a teacup.

Alya rolled her eyes and walked over to Marinette and Nino. “Who’re we missing?”

“Kim and Rose. They’re carpooling, so they should be here any minute.“

Just as Marinette had said, a few seconds later, Rose and Kim walked into the airport. Kim was still wearing pajama pants.

Another Time Skip!

“Marinette.“ Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette, wake up, we’re here.“

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open. “No. Five more minutes.”

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

“Shit. Let’s go!“ Marinette said, jumping up, grabbing her purse (which she had recently learned concealed a kwami) and scrambling out the door.

Alya picked up the mini-backpack she now carried (which held Trixx, cookies, and some grape jelly) and followed her out the door.

Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, they heard a loud wail.

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

“I just can’t believe she would steal that, Lila! It’s so unlike her!“

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

“Oh, great, what did we do this time?“ Alya asked exasperatedly. They watched as Lila held out the remains of–from what they could see from a meter away–a sketch of an orange mermaid gown with a black lace collar, ripped into quarters and laid out on the ground.

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

A small tear made its way down Marinette’s face. “It was going to be for you,” she said softly.

Alya threw her arms around Marinette and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. Once you’re princess, we’ll sue her for all she’s worth.”

Marinette detached herself from Alya and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Alya.”

-🌸-

Nino stormed up to where Alya and Marinette were standing with a furious expression on his face.

“That fox,“ he seethed. “that bitchy little fox of a liar stole your drawing.“

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

“Are you okay? I know how important they are to you.“

“I’m fine, Nino, and o–who the hell are you?“ A man in an oddly formal suit was standing next to her, holding out a small red envelope.

Marinette plucked the envelope from his fingers, opened it, and read the contents. She looked up and nodded at the suit-wearing guy.

“Good. In that case, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to need you to come with me.“ Alya and Nino immediately stepped in front of her in a protective shield.

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

The strange man looked surprisingly amused. “Not at all–but you might want to come with us, too. You as well, headphone-boy.”

Nino put a hand on his chest and gasped in offense.

“Nino. He’s going to drive us to the palace. You’re coming, too, ya doof!“ Nino made a noise of realization and followed them out to where a black limousine was waiting.

They climbed in and drove off.

About five minutes into the drive, he moved his foot to the side, accidentally kicking a black box.

Just as he was preparing his final goodbyes, it sprung open, and inside was a junk food lover’s heaven.

“Dude.“

#ml #ml salt #ml salt fic #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #alya sugar #nino sugar #lila rossi #lila salt #lila bashing #adrien agreste #adrien salt #adrien bashing #marinette the princess of china #WHY ARE YOU READING THE TAGS

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kitazura · 3 years

Text

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?”

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

#haikyuu fluff #tendou fluff #hq fluff #tendou satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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rudypankwow · 4 years

Text

climb through my window (pt. 2) | jj maybank

not my gif! (i think it was posted by ssjiara)

warnings: s l o w b u r n, briefly talks about violence and abuse (bc it’s jj and his dad’s a meanie)

word count: 2.7k

masterlist, pt 1, pt 3

a/n: i know the beginning is also a little slow, but pls stick with me bc after this it’s gonna be so good! jj comes in at the end, and from this point on he’ll be the main focus of every part. but i had to set up the story :) also big thanks to kay bc i complained about this nonstop for the last few days sorry kay ly

Yelling was something you had become well acquainted with in the last year and a half. It was your sister’s fault. She didn’t stick to the plan.

“She was always supposed to go to Yale and she’s still going to Yale!” your mom shouted, her hands practically slamming on the table. “That was always the deal,” she continued, ignoring your sigh and tense jaw, “you got Meg and I got (y/n).”

You had moved on from the, “Isn’t it my decision?” argument long ago, instead choosing silence as your parents battled it out. When your sister, Meg, had decided to forgo college and instead spend some time traveling (she had secretly saved every penny she received from presents, allowances, paychecks, etc), your parents had moved on to you. Your mother had attended Yale and your dad Dartmouth, and the plan was always that Meg would go to Dartmouth and you’d go to Yale. It was a whole legacy student ordeal. It didn’t matter anyway, because your sister had ruined it. You were only a junior, and the school year was still a week away from starting, this was your reality for the time being.

“Well I think she’d like Dartmouth more, anyway,” your dad said. He didn’t even look up from his plate. “New Hampshire has way more to offer than Connecticut.”

Your mom on the other hand, was red in the face. Her arms were flailing, pointing her fork at you and your dad. “You’ve hardly even been to Connecticut, how in the hell would you know?”

“I just know it is, who goes to Connecticut for fun?” your dad continued. “New Hampshire has way more to-”

“You know what?” you cut them off. They both turn to look at you. Every time they get into these arguments, they wait for your input, for a final “I’m going here,” but it’s not coming today. Instead, you say, “I’m leaving.” You stand up from the table, pushing in your chair, making sure it angrily scrapes against the floor. “Feel free to keep arguing on my behalf, though.”

Your favorite spot in town was a 20 minute bike ride from your house. There was a little hill you could climb up, and when you reached the top it was a beautiful view of the ocean. You sometimes brought a book and read, and other times you just laid down and enjoyed the sun. Either way, that’s where you were going.

You decided to take a different way there this time, it was a little longer but it was so nice out you didn’t mind. As you turned the corner to ride past the police station, you saw the back of a blonde head that looked a lot like JJ walking out with another man. Your heart immediately dropped, too worried about why he was walking out of the police station to be disappointed in yourself for knowing him by the back of his head.

You were still some distance away when they got into the car. Despite no longer being able to see JJ, you kept your eyes on the movement in the car. As you started to get closer, you noticed the movement you could see get more violent, causing the car to shake. You finally become parallel with the car, staying on the opposite side of the road. You were nervous to stop, scared of what you might see, but you knew you had to.

JJ was pressed against the passenger door, his hands covering his face. The man in the car, which you could only assume was his dad, was hovering over him. You could probably hear his yelling if your ears weren’t ringing. You knew what was coming next, and you tried to will it not to happen, tried to focus all the energy into the universe to make what was going to happen not happen.

His hand collided with JJ’s face anyway. Over and over again. And you couldn't look away, couldn’t stop the tears that started to form, couldn’t believe the universe for being so unfair. The police station was right there, it would be so easy to run in and get help, but you were completely frozen in your spot.

His dad settled back into his seat and you saw JJ touch his face, attempting to clean the cuts but only producing bloody hands. The car engine started, and quickly peeled away, leaving you stuck to the pavement. You stared as they turned at the end of the road and reached up to wipe the few tears that you didn’t realize had fallen.

Once your breathing finally evened out and your heart stopped pounding out of your chest, you pushed your feet off the ground and started pedaling your bike. You had forgotten where you were supposed to be going, instead just seeing where your feet took you.

You hadn’t planned on making your way to the Wreck, but before you knew it that’s what happened. You debated going in for a few minutes. You weren’t sure you wanted to explain what you just saw to Kie, though you were sure she knew. You could just not tell her, but your anxiety was without a doubt written on your face. You probably should tell her, or anyone for that matter. But on the other, was it yours to tell?

You were still standing over your bike outside the restaurant when the front door opened. “(y/n)?” Kie’s dad called, garbage bag in hand. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Why are you just standing there? Come in!”

It snapped you out of your trance, and you nodded, stepping off the bike and walking it over to the rack. It was way less crowded than the last time you were there, especially for a Saturday. “Oh, hey, (y/n),” Kie says.

“Hey, Kie,” you said. You smile, trying to put on happy face for your friend.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. “I can make you something if you want.”

“No,” you say. You’re pretty sure any food you tried to eat right now would just come straight back up. “I was just passing by,” you continue. “Your dad invited me in and I didn’t want to upset him.”

“Oh,” she says. She stares at you for a second. “Are you okay?” You look down at the counter. “You look like you don’t feel well.”

“Yeah, I just uh-” you try to fake a laugh, “I just have a headache.”

She seems to buy it. “Well let me grab you some water and then you should head home and get some rest,” she says, raising her eyebrows at you. You give her a nod and she takes a few steps behind the counter. She hands you the bottle and takes a sip.

Before your common sense can stop you, you say, “Hey, I saw JJ mowing the Copelands’ lawn the other day and noticed he had some bruises. I don’t know if there’s any reason to worry but,” you pause, unsure of how to finish, “uh, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to make sure he was okay?” You immediately wish you could suck the words back out of the air and take them back.

But Kie just shrugs, giving a little chuckle. “Honestly, (y/n), who knows? It’s JJ.” You smile and nod, looking back down at the counter. “Look,” she continues, “if it ever seems like he’s in trouble just let me know. But he’s usually got it figured it out.”

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “I’m honestly not even sure why I asked. Something about it just made me nervous, I guess.”

She smiles. “That’s sweet of you, really,” she pats your shoulder. “But I wouldn’t let it worry you too much, okay?”

You nod, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “I’m gonna go,” you say. “Thanks for the water.” It seems awkward, but you’re not sure what else to say.

“Let me know when you’re feeling better,” she calls as the door shuts behind you.

You lean against the side of the building once out of sight, once again trying to calm yourself down. You take a sip of the water and click on your phone to check the time. It had only been an hour since you left home, but it felt like it had been at least five.

Unsure of what else to do, you get on your bike and start back home, stopping at the library on the way to pick up a book. Halfway through your ride, the sky seemed to open up, big drops of rain soaking you through to the bone.

When you were little, your mom used to say that it only rained when people wanted things to be washed away.

It only seemed fitting.

-------

JJ hadn’t come by to mow that Friday. It was Sunday now, and all you’d done was think about him and what you saw the day before.

School was starting in a week, and despite the fact that you almost liked school, the thought of being forced to see all the other kooks every day was enough to ruin the idea. And since junior year meant college planning, you knew tensions would be high.

Needless to say, you were dreading it.

But today, it was gorgeous outside. So, before your parents could even try to bother you, and before you spent another minute staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, you grabbed your headphones and your book and headed out to your back deck. You had made a deal with your parents long ago that any arguing had to stay in the house, so you knew you were safe outside.

No matter how hard you tried to focus on your book, your mind couldn’t stop wandering. After twenty minutes, you basically give up, dropping your book in your lap with a huff. You close your eyes and lean your head back against your chair, sighing. The sun is as burning you skin, but it’s lnice to feel something other than anxious.

Your heart just about skips a beat when you hear a lawn mower start. Your eyes open immediately and you swallow hard. Sitting up slightly, you turn your head to look at the house next door.

And, of course, there he is, two days late, mowing the lawn. Part of you hoped that you’d be able to avoid seeing him for the rest of the week after what you saw yesterday.

You’re trying your hardest to not stare, you don’t want him to catch you again, but you need to see his face. He’s actually wearing a shirt this time, which is a bad sign. You can’t remember the last time he wore a shirt while mowing in the summertime. You can’t quite see his face yet, so you turn around and pretend to read your book, waiting for the sound of the mower to get closer. When it does, you try to peek over. He’s still a bit too far away, but you think you can see a dark spot on the side of his temple. It makes your stomach turn.

You did have one thought in the back of your mind, but it was borderline crazy, nevermind how it would make you look. You had been mulling it over for the past few days, but always dismissed it immediately. Seeing him here, however, a dark bruise on his face and likely countless others across his chest, made that horrible idea seem not so horrible.

Your feet were moving before you knew it, before you could stop them.. You always felt like there was a magnet drawing you into him, but up until now you’d tried your hardest to act against it.

“JJ!” you called. Your palms were starting to sweat. In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing, but for some reason you were still doing it.

He turns around, shutting off the lawn mower when he sees you standing there. “Oh, hi,” he says, thinking for a minute. “(y/n), right? You’re friends with Kie?” You nod. He thinks for another minute and smiles. “You’re that girl I always catch staring at me?” The smirk on his face tells you everything you needed to know. You knew he had noticed a few times, but had no clue he’d picked up on a pattern.

Your eyes go wide and you shake your head. “Uh, no,” you try to be casual, “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” He could probably hear your pulse from where he was standing.

“No,” he continues, nodding, “you almost crashed your car into your garage the other day because you were staring at me.” His hands are crossed against his chest and he’s smiling wildly.

“No,” you say say again. “No, I was just,” you can’t come up with anything good, “looking at the Copeland’s dog. It had gotten out,” you finish, knowing the Copeland’s have never had a dog, not for as long as you’d lived next to them.

He clearly knew this too, because he answers, “The Copeland’s doing have a dog, (y/n).”

“Okay, well, that’s beside the point,” you say, shaking your head again and waving your hands. His eyes are wide when you look back up at him, and you sigh, seriously regretting whatever it was you were doing. “Look,” you continue, “I came over here because I wanted to tell you,” you pause, your hands are shaking. You take a deep breath. “I saw you. The other day. Outside the police station. With your dad.” You can’t say the whole thing at once, cause you think the weight of the words might poison all the air around you. “At least I thought it was your dad, anyway,” you say, looking down at your feet.

“Look,” he says, taking a step forward, “please don’t-”

“Wait,” you interrupt, because you think if you don’t finish you might never get out the words, “just let me finish, please?” You look at him and he nods. You exhale, still not believing the words you were about to say. “If you ever need somewhere to crash, for whatever reason, my window is the last one to the left on the back side of the house. It’s easy to climb in. I’ve done it a few times before.” He looks completely thrown off. “I just know how Kie’s dad is, and I know how Mr. Heyward can sometimes be a pain, and after what happened to John B-” you falter. “I just figured you might need somewhere to stay from time to time,” you explain. “I have a couch in my room and I promise not to ask questions.”

There’s a pause. He finally says, “Okay,” and when you look up at him he’s got that same smirk he did before.

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, pointing a finger at him. “You will be sleeping on the couch, believe that.”

His smirk doesn’t dissipate as he nods. “Sure,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, my god, I’m leaving now.” You turn and start walking away, resting your hand on your chest, trying to calm your heart rate.

“Hey, (y/n)?” he calls after you. Reluctantly, you turn back. He’s got a different look now, less cocky. “You were close with Sarah, right?” He rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you say, “we used to be best friends when we were little.” You hadn’t been that close with her in a long time, but you don’t tell him that.

“Do you think they’re,” he drops his hands by his side, sighing, “you know-”

“Dead?” you ask.

He rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah, but I was trying not to say the word.”

You smile a little, brushing some hair out of your face. “No, I don’t,” you say simply.

He nods, looking down at the ground, and gives you a smile. “Last window to the left, right?” he asks. “On the back side of the house?”

You try to stop the smile that’s threatening to engulf your face. “Yeah.”

You turn around, walking back to your deck. You hear the lawn mower start. Your feet feel like they’re no longer touching the ground. You have no idea if he’ll come, and you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, but you feel better knowing you’ve offered, that he has the option.

And the thought of getting to see his face more sure doesn’t hurt.

taglist!! please inbox me to be on the tag list!!!! if it’s not an inbox it won’t go on the list!

@o-b-x @dolanfivsosxox @casualcolorstarfish @timotaychalabae @sarahsmaybank

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ojoboy · 4 years

Text

han seungwoo babyfever au

genre: han seungwoo x reader, fluff, domestic bliss

word count: 4k

plot: Your cousin asks you to babysit his children (14 y.o. Dongpyo & 13 months old baby sister Dohye) to celebrate the anniversary with his wife. Your boyfriend volunteeringly helps you out. Oh oh looks like you two are about to catch baby fever.

a/n: I finally decided to watch Broduce during quarantine although I already knew the outcome because I was too moved by some videos of Yunseong and Jinhyuk :( Anyways when Seungwoo said that if he had a son he’d like him to be like Dongpyo, I was like: say no more! (I hope you don’t mind that I made Dongpyo younger for this)

from: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:17pm]

wanna do something later? i miss u :(

to: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:19pm]

it’s been only two days... but i miss u too :(

and i don’t know if i have time today. i’m babysitting Jaesung’s children tonight because they are celebrating their anniversary and might come back late

from: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:19pm]

i could come by and help you out?

i’m meeting seungsik now but i definitely can come right afterwards!

to: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:20pm]

yeeess, i’d love that!

—

5:07pm. The streets are filled with cars rushing home and it almost looks like they are following the sun, eager to come home and finally rest. You just finished stowing away things in your small apartment that could be possibly dangerous around babies, now lazily scrolling through your Instagram feed and liking every other post. Then the doorbell finally rang and you rushed to the door to buzz them in. Almost a minute later there was a family of four standing in your living room.

“Sorry for being late,” your cousin said as he carefully put his bag down, “traffic, you know.” “It’s fine,” you replied and crouched down and shook little Dohye’s hands, beaming at the baby in the stroller. “Well, someone’s in a good mood today, aren’t you little sunshine?” Whether she did understand you or not, the little girl simply responded with a cheerful giggle that could melt anyone’s heart.

“She’s been energetic all day long. I hope she won’t give you a hard time,” her mother told you while undoing the buckles and taking the small child in her arms. Dongpyo was already sitting down on the couch next to the big black bag, seemingly busy on his phone.

“Everything you need for Dohye is in the bag. Diapers, baby food and even some toys to keep her entertained.” Your attention diverted back to your cousin who was going through the bag to check all items. “All right, thank you.”

After checking the final things with you, Hyejin took your hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yes, thank you. You are the best!” Your cousin engulfed you in a hug and then walked over to his children. “Behave well and help Y/N out, okay?” he playfully ruffled Dongpyo’s hair and bent down to kiss the little girl on his lap, followed by his wife showering the two with affection. A little annoyed like most teenagers in puberty the young boy told his parents off.

Halfway through the door Hyejin turned around to say, “Call us if there are any problems!”

“Don’t worry, Seungwoo is also coming. I’m sure we’ll manage,” you reassured them while ushering them out, “Just enjoy your anniversary!” "Oh, say hello from us then, yeah?” Jaesung waved one last time before the door closed.

“Finally!” the fourteen years-old exclaimed, making you chuckle. Seeing how his sister started squirming in his lap and hitting his face, you offered to take her while Dongpyo dutifully laid out her blanket on your floor and set up a few toys. “So, your boyfriend is also coming?”

“Yup, I think you’ve only met him once. Remember when we picked you up from dance practice because your mom was in labor? He drove us to the hospital.”

“Oh yeah, but isn’t he too cool for you?”

“Hey, wouldn’t be the other way around?” You played along. “Dohye agrees with me.”

“Nah, he really looked cool driving with one hand and calming you down while you were nervous as a cat.”

Just when you were about to retort the doorbell rang again as if your boyfriend knew you were talking about him. “Dongpyo can you get that, please?” Without further ado the boy got up from the comfy spot and buzzes Seungwoo in. A few moments later he enters, dressed in black ripped jeans and a white tee which was mainly covered by the purple The Rolling Stones hoodie (you got it for him as a birthday present and he claimed it was his favorite piece of clothing ever since).

“Hey guys, I brought some cake!” Seungwoo proudly lifts the white bag with his usual endearing smile. He fist-bumped Dongpyo and walked over to press a chaste kiss on your cheek before he set the cake down on the kitchen counter.

“You should marry him,” Dongpyo’s ogling eyes followed your boyfriend first, then his body. Eager to have some cake, his hands were already reaching out for the white bag when you stopped him. “Dongpyo stop. Let's save the cake for dessert, alright?”

With a pout, the boy looks up at the older guy in hope of him being able to convince you otherwise but the latter apologetically shook his head, “Sorry pal, you heard the boss.” He then proceeded to carefully stored the cake in your refrigerator as Dongpyo dramatically put his head between his hands.

—

About half an hour into the babysitting you were sitting down on your floor, watching Dohye grabbing colorful wooden bricks and stacking them on top of each other. Sometimes she would even chuck them in your direction as if to tell you that you should do the same.

Meanwhile the two boys sat comfortably on the couch as Dongpyo showed some of his dance covers on his phone but also a few viral video clips he saw on social media, both unable to hold back their laughter. By now they have become close mentally - as well as physically. They were leaning onto each other, leaving no space between them, and Seungwoo had one of his arms draped over the boy’s narrow shoulders. It was a position you were very familiar with.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen this video of a ferret dancing? It’s soooo cute,” Dongpyo leaned down from the couch to show you his phone screen whereas Seungwoo held onto his shirt so he wouldn’t fall down. Mimicking the ferret’s movements with Dohye’s rattle in your hand, you answered, “Yes, I replayed it so, so many times and even sent it to Seungwoo.”

Enticed by the rattle, the little baby dropped the blue brick and started crawling towards you. With open arms you welcome the girl as she climbed in your lap, willingly handing the rattle over. Immediately Dohye aggressively shook the toy and filled the room not only with rhythmic rattling but also joyous laughter.

Feeling your lower back starting to hurt from sitting on the ground, you scooted over to lean against the couch with Dohye safely pulled against your front. “Wow, this is funny haha!”

When you craned your neck to see what Dongypo was laughing about, you realized that Seungwoo’s eyes had been set on you. It seemed like he was in a daze, the way he smiled so fondly at the sight of you holding and playing with the baby.

The image of you and him having a baby of your own crossed his mind ever since he walked through the door today and saw you two together and truth to be told he liked it - a lot.

His hand then slowly reached out for your head and gently stroked your hair, careful not to get any strands tangled with his rings. Enjoying the calming feeling, you returned his sweet gesture with a genuine smile that made his heart flutter like the first time he met you.

This intimate moment didn’t last long, though, as Dohye suddenly began to cry. “Oh no, what’s wrong, Dohye?” You picked her tiny body up and smelled her diaper. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you need your diaper changed.”

“I bet she’s hungry, Y/N” Dongpyo said as he put his phone down. “Can you get the baby food from bag, please?” You slowly got up from your place and rocked the girl back and forth in hope of calming her down. “Shh, don’t cry. Your big brother is getting your food right.”

“I got it! It says that it needs to be heated up in the microwave for a minute to a minute and a half,” the boy read the instructions and walked over to your kitchen. However, he struggled to open the glass so Seungwoo offered to help him, “Here, let me.”

He then opened the little glass on his first try and proceeded to put it in your microwave as he already knew his way around your kitchen. “Oh, I think this might be a little too hot?” Seungwoo worried after taking the glass out and rolling it between his hands.

“Let’s stir the heat out and wait a little then... Dongpyo, is there perhaps a baby bib in the bag too?”

All of you made your way back into the living room, you sitting down on the couch with a still crying baby and joined by Seungwoo while Dongpyo looked for the baby bib. Tying it around her neck turned out to be a bit harder than expected since she started to squirm around.

After finally succeeding, you decided to switch with Seungwoo so you could feed the little girl. You carefully blew on the small spoon as Dohye watched you with big eyes and drool coating her mouth already. Ten minutes later the glass is empty and a big content smile grazed the girl’s lips.

“Wow, you eat really well, huh?” You wiped her mouth with the bib and booped her little nose. “You come after your dad, I guess.”

—

“Are you sure you don’t need me to help you cook?”

“I’ll manage. Just watch the kids, honey” You couldn’t help but giggle at your own cheesy words and squeezed his muscular arm before sending him back into the living room. As soon as you calmed Dohye down, the next kid started to complain about being hungry. This whole situation made you feel like it was your little family.

Before you could indulge further into your imagination, you diverted your attention to the ingredients in front of you to cook pasta. While the noodles were boiling, you were busy cutting onions and carrots for the sauce when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle. Shortly after his head hovered next to yours, “Looks good, babe.”

“There is nothing to see yet,” you playfully nudged him, yet he pulled you closer against his body. “Wasn’t talking about the food,” Seungwoo then cheekily pressed his lips against the side of your face and proceeded to steal a few slices of carrots, running back before you could stop him.

Looking over your shoulder you saw that he was sharing the stolen goods with none other than Dongpyo, both a giggling mess. In your eyes the two were like a real father-son duo and you began to wonder what it would be like if you two were to start a family. A blush bloomed on your cheeks, yet you pushed the thought back to focus on cooking again.

As soon as you served the pasta, Dongpyo came rushing and very eager to dig in. You left the TV on and put on a children’s show to entertain Dohye while the rest of you enjoyed dinner.

“I’m so fuuuuull! Thank you for the meal, Y/N,” Dongpyo said as he lazily rubbed his tummy and closed his eyes for moment. “Too full for the cake, though?” Seungwoo asked the boy across him, raising his eyebrow. At his words, Dongpyo’s eyes opened with a twinkle in them, “Never!”

While you put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Seungwoo was already taking out new plates and of course: the long-anticipated cake. “I hope you like cherries, Dongpyo,” your boyfriend presented three chunky pieces of cake covered in pink and white frosting with little cherries on top. “Voila, the cake is really delicious. I tried one piece with Seungsik today,” he winked at you and forked a bite-sized piece, raising it to your mouth.

You welcomed the sweet taste as the frosting melted on your tongue, humming in agreement. Just when the three of you sat down on the couch again, the baby started crawling towards your boyfriend and grabbed his sturdy leg to pull herself up, her eyes set on the pink and white delicacy. Seungwoo quickly put his plate on the coffee table and picked the girl easily up.

“Aigoo, do you want some?” You two only laughed when she stretched her short arms towards your plate and almost lunged at it, only to be held back by your co-babysitter. You scooped a small amount of the frosting on your pinky and placed it against her plump limps which she gladly took.

“Oh Y/N, be careful of her-”

“Ouch!”

Dongpyo’s warning came a little too late as you massaged your poor finger, while Dohye somehow managed to giggle innocently yet diabolically at the same time (in that moment she reminded you a lot of her brother).

—

“Do you want to see my new dance routine?”

“Weren’t you too full to move just now?” You questioned the young boy.

“It’s all good now. I don’t think I will throw up.”

“Well, that’s very reassuring.”

Soon your small living room turned into a stage as Dongpyo prepared several dance covers of girl groups. His little sister started to jump up and down on the couch, with Seungwoo holding her arms, to cheer him on. He even managed to persuade Seungwoo to join him who acted hesitant at first but matched the teenager’s energy once he got up.

You and Dohye clapped as soon as the little showcase ended. The two guys plumped down on the couch, slightly out of breath. Seungwoo wasted no time to strip himself off his purple hoodie, leaving him in his loose white tee. The tattoos adorning his milky skin caught the younger one’s attention, “Wow Seungwoo, you have tattoos? Y/N, your boyfriend is soooo cool!”

He then put his index finger under his chin, “I think I’m getting tattoos, too, when I’m older. They look so cool on you.” At this you two couldn’t stifle your laughter, earning a confused look from Dongpyo. But who could blame you? It was very hard to imagine such a sweet, baby-faced boy to get tattoos inked on his skin.

“Sure thing, buddy,” Seungwoo ruffled the boy’s hair, unable to hold back his smile.

“Oh, but it hurts a lot, right? Maybe I won’t get any after all...” Dongpyo leaned back against the couch, hugging the cushion tighter.

—

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you took care of the mess in your kitchen but when you returned to your living room, you discovered a sleeping baby lying on top of your boyfriend’s chest. Your heart melted at this sight and the corners of your mouth immediately tugged upwards. Wanting to capture the sweet moment, you took your phone out and wasted no time to get a few shots of the two, careful not to disturb them.

Just when you crouched down next to the couch to get an up-close shot, your knee joints betrayed you. The pop seemingly woke up your boyfriend from his slumber as his eyes slowly opened and you were met with warm, brown orbs.

Catching you red-handed, Seungwoo cracked a smile and whispered, “What are you doing, babe?”

“You two look so adorable, I just couldn’t resist!” You smiled sheepishly and began to stroke his hair with your free hand, pushing a few strands away from his eyes.

“Mh, as much as I’m enjoying this, I think my back might kill me soon,” he softly spoke with his eyes closed again, welcoming your gentle touch. “C’mon, let’s put her in my bed.”

Seungwoo clutched the little girl closer to his chest and slowly got up without making any noise. He pushed her a little upwards so she could rest her head on his shoulder. You walked ahead, opening the two doors for him, and pulled the blanket aside to let him put Dohye down. Then you tucked her safely in and placing your stuffed bunny, which Seungwoo had won for on your first arcade date, next to her.

The two of you sneaked out of your bedroom, leaving the door ajar just in case she woke up. Now standing in the small hallway, Seungwoo wrapped his arms around you from behind, putting just a little bit of his weight on you. “My back still hurts from your small couch; you should carry me like this,” you could basically hear his pout above your head.

“Shut up, my couch is not that small. It’s just because you are stupidly tall!” You hushed him as you wriggled in his arms to turn around and playfully pinched his cheeks. There was a shift in his eyes; usually he would retort that you were ‘stupidly small’ but this time he just gazed at you, eyes filled with adoration.

With your chests pressing against each other, you were not quite sure whether it was your heart that was racing or his. Maybe it was both of yours but it didn’t matter, anyways.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in a small voice, your index finger now tracing his dimple instead.

“I was just wondering, what it would be like if we had a baby,” Seungwoo confessed and smiled innocently at you. Heart skipping a beat, you were slightly flustered by his unexpected answer and felt your ears heat up.

“You would be a great dad.” Before he could react, you got on your tiptoes and simultaneously pulled his face a little bit down to meet him with a brief, yet sweet peck on the lips.

Once you released his face and let your hands slide down to the juncture between his shoulders and neck, you felt his arms tighten around your body and tugging you even closer to him. Being not satisfied with the peck, he leaned in for another kiss.

His warm lips melted against yours and you felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach like it was the very first time. As your lips moved against his, you could feel him smiling into the kiss. There was still a faint taste of cherries lingering on his lips adding to the sweet and addictive kiss. For a moment you forgot about everything because being in his arms just felt right.

“Wow, it’s like my parents never left,” a sudden voice exclaimed from behind you. The two of you shyly pulled away from each other and looked at the intruder. “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

With that being said, Dongpyo quickly disappeared into your bathroom. You were slightly embarrassed by getting caught but to make you blush even more, Seungwoo then said, “I want to have a kid like him later, haha.”

—

Their parents came back around 9pm. Dohye was still fast asleep in your bedroom, by now cuddling with your stuffed bunny, while the three of you watched an episode of Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bokjoo.

“You guys came back early! How was your dinner?”, you asked them as you let the couple in. “Oh, it was wonderful and the food was really delicious. You two should check out the restaurant sometime,” Hyejin gushed. “Anyways, we called it a night early because I missed my babies too much.”

She wasted no time to pull her son into her side and ruffle his fluffy hair, eliciting a soft whine from him.

“Ah, I almost forgot! We’ve got you a little gift,” the woman nudged her husband who pulled out a small white box from his paper bag. “It’s from our favorite chocolatier. But it’s only a small gift so whenever you have time, come over and we will make you a nice meal to thank you properly, yeah?”

“Alright, let’s go home now. I think we’ve bothered you enough for tonight,” your cousin chimed after putting his little girl in her carrier and giving the two of you a hug.

Once you closed the door behind them, Seungwoo pulled you into his arms again. Just before he could say anything, a yawn escaped his mouth.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhm, just a little bit.”

He rested his forehead against yours, eyes lovingly gazing into yours again like earlier.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Seungwoo rummaged through your closet, looking for a comfortable shirt amidst all the t-shirts that you’ve either got or stole from him. Finally, his eyes set on a grey oversized tee which you actually could wear as a dress. Stripping off his slightly sweaty shirt, he welcomed the new soft fabric that no longer smelled like his cologne but by now had picked up your sweet scent.

When he joined you in the bathroom, you were already brushing your teeth whilst scrolling through your Instagram feed. He made his way behind you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror because the pink shirt that he’s been missing for the past week just happened to be engulfing you in that moment. But how could be upset when you looked like an angel to him?

Before you could grab your hair yourself, Seungwoo gently pushed them back and held them for you so they wouldn’t get in your way until you were finished with your routine. Once he started with his routine, you sat down on the edge of your bathtub. Waiting for him, you went through your gallery and took a look at the photos from earlier again.

“What’chu shmiling at?” He asked you with a mouth full of foam, watching through the mirror.

“Just the pics of you and Dohye sleeping together. They are really cute, I think I’m gonna post one of them!” You excitedly stood up and stayed by his side, holding your phone in front of him whilst swiping and showing him your favorite snapshots.

After he was done with his own routine, the two of you wasted no time to snuggle up in the comfort of your bed. Like every other night you rested your head on his shoulder with his arms secured round your frame as if you could easily slip away anytime. A pleasant silence fell over you, only your shallow breaths were audible.

Your eyes were fixated on a sliver of light that shone through your blinds, unable to close your eyes and succumb to the sweet promise of sleep yet. The image of Seungwoo and the kids wouldn’t leave you alone. Sure, you’ve seen him plenty times playing with his own nephew already but today felt different.

“I was just wondering, what it would be like if we had a baby.”

His words kept repeating and repeating themselves in your head.

“What’s on your mind?” Seungwoo spoke so softly, it was barely a whisper. He started gently stroke your hair as he slightly turned his head towards you, his lips now almost brushing your temple.

“Just thinking about what you said earlier...” You tilted your head, meeting his eyes in the dark. “You know, what it’d be like if we had a baby, and I can’t stop thinking about it – but in a good way!”

If you had looked a little bit closer, you would have seen that his gaze softened even more at you rambling about how he would spoil the baby to death or you two dressing up your child like a model, making it the most fashionable baby out there.

“The thought of a baby really doesn’t scare me anymore. Especially when I have you by my side,” you confessed. Instead of teasing you for corny confession, he pushed his body off the bed and hovered above you, his head already diving in to claim your lips.

Seungwoo didn’t say a word during your ramble but he put all his feelings into the kiss and you knew – he didn’t need to say it aloud because you knew he felt the same. His right hand caressed your face, thumb going over the apple of your cheek.

“I really like the sound of that,” his lips stretched into a smile before the landed right on your temple.

Suddenly his smile turned smug, “We could try making one right now.”

“Oh, shut up!”

—

The next morning you checked your notifications only to find yourself chuckling at them.

ssunhwa: oh I didn’t know I was an aunt already

pyopyoson: huh is that black mob of hair mine? anyways, I want pics with him too

seungsmile_: just get married already

128 notes · View notes

ggukcangetit · 4 years

Text

Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts fluff #bts bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #magicshopnet

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

Text

if i go, i'm goin' (your love will take me there) | nora montgomery x dara ann lynch x billie dean howard

summary: not even in a hundred years, a love like Dara’s was ever seen, but those lucky enough to be the receiving end of it knew how much pureness and sincerity it held. Some of those wished, however, to have been the only end to receive that love but still they found their true home right in between her arms. And maybe in another time, another life, Dara’s love would have been all Nora’s. However, as Nora felt fuller yet lighter in the living room of her home for the past one hundred years…she found herself wishing for Billie to keep taking care of their greatest love.

words: 14,759

n/a: this is going to hurt so fucking bad, I’m already crying. The story is divided in two almost individual parts connected in the middle. It will tell the extents of Dara and Billie’s love in the beginning…and then switch to the love that was meant to be.This doesn’t mean I won’t keep writing for Nora and Dara or including Nora in other stories, but those would probably be pre-2020/2021 most of the time! I hope y'all enjoy this one, because I did a lot of research and…well, NoraDara owns my heart fully for the rest of my life.

n/a 2.0: Also, analyzing how Billie and Dara’s relationships are, we (Vivi and I) found that there were similarities between BillieAudrey and NoraDara as separate units, and since I did explore the former first a few times already, it’s time for the latter to come alive (pun intended).

n/a 3.0: I’ll be taking a break from writing for a while, so this is the last long thing I’ll be posting. I hope y’all enjoy it.

[23:35] How-t Stuff: I miss you :(

[23:38] How-t Stuff: Annie, I see you in your phone from the living :((

Dara only chuckled silently at that, amused because she could actually see Billie in the couch typing in her phone. It was one of the perks of living in a tiny apartment, even if they were separated, they could see each other from the other room just by open a door. Damien was already asleep, hugging her from behind, so she couldn’t do much sound in case she woke up.

It was easy to type a ‘hang in there honey’ and close her eyes, feeling how her headache was getting better after being able to down some food and having some painkillers along with muscle relaxant for her leg. The only thing she didn’t like, however, was feeling herself uneasy because medicines usually messed up with her body and her perception.

[23:46] How-t Stuff: This couch is so uncomfortable...why do we still have it???

[23:48] How-t Stuff: Also I found your fancy lighter in between the cushions :)

[23:50] How-t Stuff: also found your purple thong oops

She really wanted to go to sleep, but having Billie trying to be...cute? was really something else. But Dara was already falling asleep, and with only one eye open she texted her back a ‘you’ve been saying the same fr 6y, r u planning on sleepin there much’ and ‘sTOP hIDINg my underwear in places you forGet’ before switching her phone to night mode and hiding it under Billie’s pillow. Of course she was sleeping in Billie’s side and maybe she was wearing one of her pyjamas, she also missed her, but she kinda deserved it.

The memory came back to her, making Dara feel dizzy and she closed harder her eyes, trying to get it out. She wasn’t in the mood of thinking about Audrey or Danielle for that matter, even when both had kinda been the reason Billie was sleeping in the couch and she had her teen niece pressed against her back, sleeping soundly like a baby koala. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate any of them, in fact Dara was pretty sure she didn’t hate anyone ever in her life...not even the poor devil that assaulted her and scarred her as a teen...

[01:50] How-t Stuff: Uhm...love, beige or sky blue?

[02:10] How-t Stuff: nvm, black is prettier

[02:30] How-t Stuff has sent an image.

[02:32] How-t Stuff: we have new couch wohoo!

[03:32] How-t Stuff: i love you my dalfoddil

When Dara opened her eyes, she felt her head all clogged but at least her body didn’t hurt that bad or at all. Damien was now cuddling herself in her side of the bed, heavily asleep, so with care she tried to stand up to go get a glass of water. Her phone forgotten under the pillow, her hands went to retrieve her cane from where it was resting immediately. Oh, she wasn’t so confident today about walking, so even when she had support with one hand she still made her way slowly.

Rubbing off the sleep from her eyes, Dara looked first to where her wife had slept just to find an empty spot. But soon the toaster going off made her notice Billie, facing the kitchen counter, trying to do something in the stove. She truly looked disheveled, more than usual upon waking up, and a soft pang of guilt rang through Dara's body.

"Are you making tea?" when Billie turned around, Dara was leaning on her cane and looking shyly at her, which made her change her whole wrecked expression to one much softer.

"And toasts, I remembered your mother gave us blackberry jam not long ago and I thought, hell, why not?" she laughed a bit nervously before leaning in the counter to wait for the water to start to boil in the little old pot that's been around since day one. "Is the kid up?"

Dara shook her head slightly and then went to Billie in automatic, pressing her lips together in a chaste kiss meant to be longer than that, but the older medium complied with a soft grin. She already knew this little start of the day meant the world to her wife so Billie wasn't that worried about the 'couch arrest'. However they couldn't say much more because a sleepy Damien made her way to where her aunts were, getting breakfast done, and they were moved to another rhythm of life.

It was easy for Dara to shift in between being her private persona and the one she usually presented to her family, and Billie noticed that right away. When they were at home, the two of them alone, her shoulders relaxed more and the everlasting smile dropped for a slight smirk that accompanied her tired eyes. It was a homie view, yet it made Billie’s heart roar with an overprotectiveness that was familiar at this point of her life. Mostly because yesterday was the first time in a while that she realized how tired her wife was, mostly because if there was something she hated with her dear life was to watch Dara like that and notice too late to fix it.

Breakfast moved in another light for sure, Billie still getting used to the presence of Dara’s nieces and nephews. Damien, as much as she had her doubts about her and resented her for the time being, was very polite and it showed how Danielle’s antics had rubbed off in her daughter. Billie still didn’t know the whole story with Dara’s twin cousins, but maybe it was time to start digging in what was unknown waters for so long.

But then, Dara did something that surprised Billie a lot to be honest.

“Not even when Eva pulled almost the same crap to Deirdre’s new husband I let it slip, so missy,” Dara started to say, holding the cup of tea to her lips to take a sip without caring it was still pretty much hot. “Why did you do that? Were you out of your damn mind?”

“I only...I don’t know auntie,” Damien’s voice was really tiny again and Billie put down her toast, her appetite dropping. “At first it was...fun, I guess? But then I just got too into it and after dad...well, I guess I didn’t want her to suffer...but I was stupid and hurt mamon and Audrey because of it, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you truly were and are,” Dara pulled back her hair with a hand, letting out a tired sigh. Billie still was pretty much blind to who the father of this kid was or why he wasn’t around. “Audrey is totally not like your father, I can assure you that being a hundred percent sure, and I get that you want to protect your mother but you should give her some credit dear,” her voice was calm but the way she was tapping with her free hand the counter, after too many years, it told she was in need of a cigarette. “She knows how to protect herself very well, she knows how to protect you very well. Do you think she would have let Audrey come into your lives if she wasn’t sure of it, mhm?”

And at that, not even Billie had the guts to say something, seeing how Dara was still very serious even when her voice was in her always calm tone. She had that ability, to remain calm despite of everything, and after being together for a decade already she could easily pick up that she inherited that capacity from her mother. Dara’s mom was able to handle all of them with a mere look or a few words, even Billie, and that was quite scary. Damien looked down to her cup of tea and she shook her head briefly, making Dara to click her tongue.

“Exactly,” she finished her tea and stood up, taking a moment too long to actually move that made Billie worry, to go get something from one of the cupboards. “Now I hope you learn something from this. Don’t make it harder for your mother, you hear me? If something’s wrong, tell her, and if you don’t want to then call me...or did you replaced me as your favourite aunt? I knew Danna was right around the corner to take my crown.”

It was then when Billie worried more, not because Damien quickly went to deny that and made Dara fake she was affected so she would hug her, but because she caught this strange shadow hovering over her wife. Usually it wasn’t like that, her white light giving some kind of protection even from herself, but as Billie tried to finish her breakfast in silence she took her time to try and discern what Dara was feeling at the moment.

As they kept moving through the morning, taking in count it was early and Danielle and Audrey didn’t call yet, Billie thought it was always hard to actually feel what her wife was feeling. She was good at reading people, something she was proud of indeed, but Dara presented her as a challenge.

However, after two hours Billie just gave up for the time being. She would have to wait until they were alone again in the quietness of their home to directly ask, maybe over some take out from that place her wife loved so much. But when Danielle and Audrey finally showed up in their door, both way more relaxed and apparently happier, something came back to Billie’s mind. As they were exchanging some words with the other couple, Billie remembered how Dara had defended Audrey in such effortless way that surprised her and, by the time their home was only them again (plans for lunch already arranged four hours later), she felt it was the right time to ask.

Overnight, alone cuddling one of Dara’s cushions in their old couch, she kept replying the events of the day in a very vivid way. Billie knew she had no right to yell at Dara, even when she was really angry with the situation, but the way she was handling things felt off putting to her for some reason. And that’s why she was surprised when Dara kinda defended Audrey, because at the time in her furious mind she truly thought her wife hated her best friend. Well, hate was a strong word, but more like...like she was putting up with Audrey at this point just because of her.

“Baby?” Billie felt a strange strangled sensation when she called out for Dara, who was making her way back to their bedroom to pick up her phone. “Can I ask you something?” Dara stopped and looked back at her, curiosity peeking out from her eyes, tilting her head in that innocent way she always had to let her know she had her full attention. “Do you...do you like Audrey?”

It was then that the silence hit Billie like a wall made of ice.

She saw how Dara squinted her eyes a bit, trying to discern what her wife was talking about, her mouth a bit agape while the silence settled in between them. But what made Billie take a step back, was how Dara moved her jaw to the left a bit before closing her mouth and biting her lower lip while considering her next words. Billie didn’t want to push, but now she was feeling how the coldness of the room was getting more intense as her wife’s feelings finally reached her. Having her cane tightly gripped in her dominant hand, Dara sighed really deep this time as the shadow floating over her grew.

“Are you serious, Billie?” Billie doubted for a second if she ever heard Dara’s voice sounding like that. “Really, I want to know if you’re pulling my leg or not.”

“Yes, I’m being serious,” oh Billie regretted that as soon as it left her mouth, but a tiny bit of the annoyance of yesterday was starting to show up for some reason. “Sometimes it feels you put up with her just because of me, Ann-”

“Don’t you dare ‘Annie’ at me right now,” Billie saw the shadow closing around Dara and then her eyes locked with hers, shining with the anger she was feeling and making her not notice the panic laced in her voice. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

When those words left her mouth, Dara felt her whole world was crumbling faster than she thought it would. As if the massive earthquake she was holding up finally managed to open the crack that it took Dara five years to close, making all the pent up things start to flood the last bits of calmness she had. She felt breathless right away, and so fucking tired that she had to close her eyes and rub her temple with her free hand.

“I love you for over a million, billion, things Billie, but before you open your mouth to say something so...genuinely stupid, stop for a second and think about it once or twice,” Dara opened her eyes, looking at how taken aback was her wife, but in that moment she didn’t care. “Think about how we’ve been together for the last ten years and think about how I am around people I don’t like,” she felt her heart hammering in her chest and her whole body aching for the outburst. “Do you think I would’ve ever let her come into our lives if I didn’t like her, ah?” the question resonated through the silent living room in a weird uneasy way. “Do you ever think I would’ve let her go down on you or me if I didn’t?” a nervous laugh broke free from her chest at that, the hand that wasn’t in her cane going to put a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you ever think that, if I didn’t like her, I would had gone yesterday night with you to help her? If I didn’t like her a single damned bit, do you think we would be here in this exact fucking moment having this fucking conversation?”

The room was feeling too hot for Dara at that moment, feeling her heart beating loudly in the back of her head and in her throat, making her feel she was about to burst into tears if she kept talking. Billie was pale, standing there in such weird silence, but any drop of self control she had was damned by now and Dara could see it because the hand that Billie wasn’t using to support herself in the counter was trembling a bit.

“I do get that what she went through was horrible and traumatic, I get that she’s your best friend and you love her a lot...” she truly felt like she was pushing the words out of her tired mind, all the tears she was holding back. “...but I was there for her too, many, many times. Most of them when you were away and she came home looking for you. If I didn’t like her, I would have shushed her the fuck away but I didn’t. So don’t ask me again if I like her, because it’s one of the most unfair things you ever did to me,” and through all the red that Dara was seeing in the moment, she managed to see how Billie was approaching her which only made her tears to push harder. “Do I like her? Of course I do, for God’s sake. I still have a heart inside, luckily, as much as y’all seem to forget,” and when she chuckled darkly, her tears finally started to run down her cheeks, as if they were burning their way down. “So there you have your fucking answer, are you happy?”

Dara felt like something finally broke inside her, gripping with both hands her cane to not fall to the ground when she felt her knees grow weak. And it hurt so bad? it burnt and it made her feel like there’s not enough air in the house for her to breath. She was truly tired at this point of her life, tired of the rest not being able to see she was breaking too under the weight of all the things happening. She didn’t considered herself as someone jealous, she really wasn’t, but many times Dara had felt that Billie chose Audrey over her.

After all what she had done for the actress, all the sleepless nights, all the comfort words, all the tiny little pieces of her that she left for Audrey to take in order to heal; that Billie decided to ask her that as if she wasn’t right by her side doing it...well, it started to hurt more than she could handle. Dara was always so sure of Billie’s love for her, waited for her to finally say that she loved her back, waited for her to finally be comfortable around her...but sometimes, behind all that confidence Dara had, a tiny bit of doubt had started to grow in its own corner.

A corner that got bigger when Billie stopped dead in her tracks again, not getting to reach her.

Billie didn't stop, however, because she didn't want to reach Dara. In fact, her whole body wanted to be wrapped around the trembling figure of her wife, sobbing in such heartbreaking way, to provide her of all the endless love she had for her...but she couldn't deny that hearing the truth being spitted out of her beautiful lips had left her speechless.

She was used to let her thoughts flow freely, most of the time taking advantage of being able to sense other emotions, to be blunt and also stating them flatly without much trouble. But sometimes, the times where people weren't taken aback due to her usual brassiness, Billie found herself saying things people wasn't expecting to ever deal with or were remotely prepared to do so. In this case, Dara wasn't ready at all to receive that question, and Billie visibly could tell but...well, she decide to push her in that direction anyway and now not only she was speechless but she felt devastated.

Devastated because the person she cared the most in this world was breaking in front of her, showing how small and fragile was in reality. Devastated because she created the situation; devastated because the only thing she did was to finally close the gap separating them to take Dara's hands in her own, making the cane fall to the ground with a muffled sound upon hitting the slim carpet of the living room. Her chest tightened when her wife still didn't move, crying her eyes out in between quiet sobs that resonated through her whole body, and she felt even worse because she wasn't brave enough to look at her directly, focusing in their hands instead.

"I'm sorry," the air in her lungs hurt like Hell itself when Billie managed to say something, Dara squeezing her hands in response. "I'm sorry I asked that, I...I didn't...please love..." please, let me fix this, tell me, help me.

"No, I'm the one being sorry for taking this all out on you," and Billie's heart hurt even more when she caught the defeat showing in Dara's eyes when she looked briefly at her, darkly chuckling again when she raised her arm to dry her tears with her sleeve without breaking the contact, her face scrunching ever so softly to try stop her tears. "I really shouldn't have…"

"No, hey, don't do that," panic overflown all over Billie, her hands now cuping Dara's face to have her closer, thumbs wiping hot tears and palms feeling the heat in her cheeks. She was able to finally look into her eyes, at least when her wife wasn't pressing her eyelids together harder to stop crying. "You have nothing to be sorry about, you were in your right to call my bullshit out."

"It's just...why did you ask me that Billie? I don't understand," Dara sniffed, trying to steady her voice but making her next sob to come out as a strangled whine. "Four years being with Audrey before we married and now you ask me if I like her? Really?"

It's then when Billie pulled her wife close, hiding her head in the hollow of her neck even when her wife was a few inches taller than her and pressing her lips to the crown of her head to hide the giant knot she had herself in her throat. Billie wasn't ready to admit the next answer, but because she wasn't ready it was what she needed to say in order to make things even. Billie's chest felt tight and it hurt so bad right now that she was holding Dara so close? Feeling her trembling and sobbing and grasping to her sweater - Dara's, because Billie stole it six years ago from her old closet at Dara's parents' and to this day it's her go-to comfort clothes when she’s at home - as if she was the only thing she needed to be there in that moment.

"I know… I only asked because…" she couldn't help but gulp in order to continue and her hand went to brush Dara's hair out of her face. "...because if you didn't like her, I'd have try to see her less.'

Billie was scared of what it came out of her mouth, and also because she could only hear her heart hammering against her ribcage along Dara's sobs in her neck. She felt the wetness of her tears in her skin, starting to get a bit sticky because they were drying slowly, but she didn't mind at all, too worried in securing her wife between her arms and starting to caress her arm and cheek with care. Her thumb was trying to both caress her warm skin and wipe the non-stop flow of tears, and Billie thought that’s what was actually helping Dara to start to calm down.

"Even if I did, I couldn't do that to you Bills," the whispered statement, Dara's lips so close to her pulse point that she felt how they moved and brushed ever so soft there, made Billie feel like all the fear she was holding in her chest disappeared. "I know how much you love her, how important is for you...and you know that I'm not a heartless bitch."

Even when is a joke that she usually resorts to, Billie still didn't like when Dara called herself those kind of things.

"But if you wanted me to, I would have done it," Billie felt her chest less tight for sure but she needed to get this out of her already because Dara deserved to hear it. "I would do anything for you because you are the most important person in my life, Annie, and that's a rock fact."

The tiny joke at the end made Dara chuckle cutely - and God that it felt good hearing her do that even with the runny nose and the cough that followed -, only because it was a recurring pun she used and Billie did it out of habit at times too, before she finally used her arms to wrap Billie in them by her waist and press it against her body, getting comfortable in the hug they pulled each other into. At that, Billie finally noticed how the shadow let go of her wife and it was like everything was getting back to usual little by little.

It felt even better when Dara finally stopped hiding in her neck, without pulling away from the hug, and shook her head while closing her redden eyes from crying. But for some reason she didn't look that tired anymore, her features growing softer each second that it passed. Billie grew softer too and brought up her sleeve, after pulling it a bit with her fingers, so she could clean better Dara's face with care. When she opened her eyes, Billie knew her girl was getting back to her slowly but surely, and she shook her head even more slow.

"I love you Bills, and I love her, like her too...I won't ever make you leave behind your best friend," there's only love in her eyes, mixed with that warmth that always cling in Billie's bones in such comforting way that the only thing she could do is to fold her hands in the small of Dara's back and start rubbing tiny circles with her thumbs there. "So no more of that, okay…?"

The right thing for Billie to do in that moment was nodding in agreement, before leaning in to capture her wife's lips with hers in one of those slow kisses they both were suckers for. It felt like Heaven brought to Earth only for Billie to enjoy and drown in it. A bit salty maybe because of the spilled tears, but it soon felt sweet. Being so close made Billie to start pepper many more kisses all over Dara's face, always a bit slower as the woman she loved started to relax and melt in her arms.

"I love you Annie," she whispered after placing a kiss in that soft spot Dara had under her ear before moving to kiss her lips once again. "I love you," now it felt so natural to say it, mumbled against a new kiss and taking as a reward another cute giggle from her wife. "Can I take you to bed or I'm still on couch arrest…?"

Oh to hear Dara's little laugh after another kiss was an absolute bliss. Billie could only wrap her arms better and lower, lifting her slightly and gaining a low hiss because of that. For a second her haze broke, worried about it, and her eyes looked out for the discomfort Dara seemed to have, but she was kissed again before manage to do so.

"You totally still are...but let's make an exception," and the soft static Billie felt in her skin when she was with Dara appeared again, making her sweetly go back to loving her wife and start to walk in between kisses and laughs back to their bedroom.

Two hours cuddling, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other was what they both needed. Not only because yesterday was a total mess, but because they've been apart three days and a few more this month. There in their quietness, they managed to talk a bit more too about daily stuff they've missed when they were apart.

Billie apologized yet again because she didn’t notice Dara’s old injury was acting up, per example, and offered to help applying some muscle soothing cream. Dara, once she was feeling a bit better and after they decided to take a well deserved shower, took in her hands the task of redoing Billie’s nails and they spent a good chunk playfully fighting over the best color - and in the end, they agreed for some nude color for Billie and Dara fixed hers in black. How Billie took to herself kissing Dara in different ways she knew the woman loved; how Dara started to rant about the last messes at work and both cussed heavily, because they were like that; how the blonde ran her fingers in soft caresses over every tattoo her wife had…

They didn’t leave the bed until it was time to actually meet up for lunch with Audrey and Danielle, purely just enjoying each other and both feeling so much better by the time Billie sat up in bed to watch her wife go through their wardrobe. Sometimes it was nice to let Dara pick their clothes for the day, mostly because it meant a good change for their usual choices.

Billie ended up getting a flowery high waisted skirt that fell loose to her knees, and her favourite peach blouse that she didn’t know how it survived ten years at this point but she wasn’t going to complain. For Dara was that one amber blouse Billie loved the most in her, the one that brought up her tanned skin, along her favourite dark pants that she knew drove Billie utterly insane and making her chuckle a ‘such a tease, aren’t you’ while Dara was getting her rings and usual jewelry on.

Those times were intimate and Billie cherished them a lot, because she never thought she would get them one day.

Hand in hand, both made their way out of the apartment not long after, and it took Billie the whole ride to get her body used again to Dara’s driving. It wasn’t that she forgot how her wife was, but heck that having others drive her here and there or even drive herself was always a whole different experience.

But there was a tiny satisfaction in watching Dara come out of the car with this glow around her that made her so different from any other person Billie met, when they pulled over at where they were having lunch that she always liked to indulge in. It made her feel important, it made her focus to be all over her wife, yet it made her feel down on Earth when they started to walk towards the terrace.

Billie thought that what she loved the most about Dara was how she was capable, with her whole demeanour and way of caring about her, of making her feel she was living in this reality. They both knew very well that there were times in which fame and her powers got too into Billie’s head, making her feel like she was just a passing soul through life instead of an actual human being. Having Dara as a constant in her life, one that she didn’t want to ever part ways with, helped her the most. And, of course, she wanted to be better than she was to her and show Dara that she had her all for herself, because God, them and both Audrey and Nora knew that Billie many times did things that didn’t demonstrate how important her wife was for her.

But Dara was still there, despite everything.

“Sweet baby Jesus, I can’t believe we are here earlier than them,” Dara’s voice brought Billie down to Earth from her thoughts. “How can two of the most punctual people in the universe not even be five minutes early to a date?”

“Cut them some slack, Dalfoddil,” Billie laughed at the fake afflicted tone in Dara’s voice, sitting by her side to be closer to her. “I bet you thirty it was only traffic, or that they forgot something at home.”

“I bet you thirty and that new game I want that they are late because of sex, Howt Stuff,” Dara mumbled before pressing her lips against Billie’s, which she eagerly took advantage of and snuck an arm behind Dara’s lower back to be even closer. “Are we bringing the bad boys before dessert now?”

“I can’t help it, baby, don’t mind me today...but we have a deal,” Billie looked at her feeling how her chest was about to burst of all the love she had for her. When Dara let herself be cuddled there in the seat, resting her head in Billie’s shoulder, she pressed a new kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Billie Dean.”

And upon hearing that coming from Dara’s pretty lips, after the millionth or billionth time, Billie knew today was going to be a good day.

When Audrey finally arrived ten minutes later, Danielle on her phone talking with a client and relieved Damien because her mother didn’t drive walking behind her, Billie had Dara still cuddled in her side as they were exchanging sweet nothings and drinking wine and soda respectively - Dara not being in the mood of drinking today. And when they settled, Audrey couldn’t help but make a little gesture with her eyebrows, silently asking Billie ‘everything okay?’ while the cousins were busy with the waiter. Her only response was a quick wink and seeing how Billie’s left hand was caressing Dara’s back up and down with care, earning her a new peck after Dara’s attention went back to her.

More than okay.

For Audrey, that was enough response. They had known each other for almost five years already, sharing more than just a friendship along the way, so she knew right away that the other couple was having one of those ‘reconciliation’ days. Not that they ever broke up, as far as Audrey knew, but sometimes they behaved like they did and were back together and stronger than ever. Well, stronger than they already were, because she never met a couple like them. They seemed to gravitate around each other in a way she wished to understand and for Audrey, she always saw that being with Dara made Billie the happiest.

Looking at Danielle for a second, when the other two were distracted talking with Damien - or more Dara talking with their niece while Billie simply listened, arm over her shoulders and glass of wine in the other hand -, Audrey discerned that her girlfriend was a bit confused yet her light brown eyes were full of tenderness. Their hands met under the table and, after a light squeeze, she earnt a peck of her own that made her contently smile.

Content smile that disappeared when Dara asked right away why they were late, once Damien had to go to the restroom, and was replaced by Audrey’s face lightening up like a Christmas light because bingo they had a shower quickie that took them a bit longer than intended.

“Oh, come on, you placed a bet and all,” Dara couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Audrey said that, rightfully offended, upon seeing Billie taking out a few bills from her purse to give them to her. “Why do you two always have bets for everything?”

“Because it’s fun and I always win,” Danielle, still with her face red as a tomato, chuckled at how happy and relaxed Dara was. “You also played bets with us, darling, don’t you play innocent now.”

“Yeah but after losing a hundred dollars to you in one go, I decided to quit altogether,” at that Billie laughed, the memory of about what they bet that time coming to her mind, because Audrey was just exasperated. “How do you even do it?”

It was time for Dara to laugh. She never did much, to begin with, it was just her intuition and one of many leaps of faith she was used to take. That was her secret, not expecting the result and just go for it.

After that and a very scandalized Danielle because ‘why would you even do that’ when Dara answered a happy ‘I’m a lucky bitch, what else can I do?’, having promised to her that one day they would tell her, a day in which everyone was wasted and with no children around; Dara managed to think that everything was finally settling again.

It was a nice feeling, because those times where Billie and her got into a discussion took a too heavy toll on her. She never liked getting into arguments to begin with, but having them with Billie was the worst thing ever because it meant for her that communication had failed. Even in the past, they only had a couple serious arguments in between all the playful bickering and the eventual ‘couch arrest’ because one of them took it a bit too far, nothing really serious taking in count the other went to retrieve the part in arrest after a few hours or the next morning. She loved how afterwards Billie got softer, more loving and willing to show her feelings, and she basically couldn’t say no to her in those times.

She also loved to be able to show it to the rest, not because she wanted to brag about, but because she had been waiting for too long to do it completely freely.

When Audrey took her hand with care over the table and smiled widely, full knowing how much she was enjoying having Billie like that, Dara’s heart grew three sizes and for a second she forgot about how a question regarding the actress was what was behind of it all. Dara didn’t want to dwell on that anymore, because now everything was in the open to Billie understand her position and for her to understand from where Billie’s doubts were coming from.

So the next thing she did after the tiny exchange of smiles with Audrey was to actually check her phone after twelve hours without doing it.

“Billie, did you buy a new couch?” Dara had to bite her tongue to not curse like a sailor, because really what the fuck, and Billie looked at her from behind her third glass of wine like ‘oh snap, she finally saw it’.

“You said I’ve been six years complaining about it,” Billie whined back, trying to not look at her wife because Dara was digging holes in her skull just by how she was looking at her. “So yesterday night I just ordered a new one, easy as pie.”

“And didn’t you think about measuring our living room before to see if it actually fits?” Dara tapped at the screenshot to see it better. “God, this is massive, what in th-”

But before she could keep at it, feeling how Billie’s hand was now placed in her thigh and rubbing soft circles there to avoid getting murdered in her sleep, her screen changed to display someone was calling. It took her a second to read the caller id and then all the happiness and all the warmth, dropped to her feet.

“I’ll kick your ass later,” Dara mumbled, taking advantage of Billie not looking at what she was doing with her phone, before standing up to go pick up the call. “Don’t you think I’m gonna forget about it.”

When she was at enough distance to not be heard, Dara pressed the phone to her ear, her heart beating loudly in her throat.

If Constance was calling her directly, and not Billie, it wasn’t a good signal.

“Hi Constance, how are you?” she started before the woman in the other side of the line talked, trying to not sound nervous. It didn’t help either that Dara had some sick respect for her. “Older than last time, kid, that for sure,” she replied darkly but with a tone that gave away she was distracted. “Yeah, right, do you want to talk with Billi-” it was the easiest way to make Constance Langdon talk, bringing up her wife because both had a different and stronger bond. “If I wanted to talk with Billie Dean, I would have called her, don’t you think?” and Dara’s silence invited her to keep talking. “Anyway, I was calling because miss Montgomery’s been acting weird,” Constance didn’t like Nora for the mere fact that she was the actual owner of the house and if she ever had to refer to her, it always came from a polite sarcasm. “She’s been in the front yard, sitting there all alone. Vivien and Violet tried to make her come in, they are still there with her in fact. I’m only calling because I have a bad feeling about this,” and Dara’s heart dropped even lower than all the good feelings already dropped. “Did she said something at all? Did you actually talked to her?” She had to ask because Nora wasn’t one to go out of the house on her own volition, only coming out on Halloween or the couple times they managed to take her to the backyard. “She asked for you, actually. And it scared the shit outta me that she let me see her in fact.” Oh yeah, Nora wasn’t a big fan of Constance neither, and that was what made everything more worrisome. Dara rubbed her neck, trying to stay calm, before giving an answer. “...I’ll be there in twenty.”

She hanged up without saying anything else, and turned around to go back to the table. Desserts were already there and the adults were laughing while Damien seemed embarrassed for some reason that escaped her knowledge.

However, Dara’s mind was racing in another line, thinking about how she needed to get to Nora as soon as possible.

This was when her secret card was played and also why she didn’t ever found herself asking Billie almost the same question she did. Dara never got in her enough courage to ask Billie if she cared, not loved or liked, but truly cared about the ghost anymore. Mostly because she knew the answer: Nora wasn’t actually there, she couldn’t provide of the warmth, she couldn’t change, she couldn’t grow, she couldn’t even leave the place she was confined to. It pained her, it pained her for the last four years, to know that everything had come to an end.

As much as Billie played it dumb, she had noticed how Nora’s wounds had closed already and that made her feel wary. She loved how Nora wasn’t a crying wreck anymore, how her true persona came out more often than not instead of the one generated by the trauma, but those times it made Dara feel how she was lighter in her arms and even one time she felt her fingers pass through her arm as if Nora was a mere smoke curtain.

“Everything okay Annie?” Billie’s voice was as worried as the glint in her eyes, taking in count Dara was spacing out just in front of them looking at her phone.

“It was Constance, there’ve been some problem at the house and wanted me to check into it,” Dara pushed herself to act more relaxed, as if it wasn’t something really important, and Billie frowned to that. “You know her, always getting worried the house is gonna burn down or something.”

“Let’s go then baby,” was Billie immediate response, moving to stand up, but Dara put a hand on her shoulder and leant enough to kiss her cheek briefly.

“Don’t worry sugar, I got it, okay? Just enjoy the rest of the afternoon,” Chuckling, Dara retrieved her bag and called for the waitress, signaling to her dessert. “Can you put me this for take out? Thank you,” her eyes went then to Billie again, smiling softly, and then to Audrey, Danielle and Damien. “You three take care of her while I’m gone, I’ll be chopping heads off if one hair is out of place,” she laughed with her joke and Danielle only rolled her eyes a bit.

“Actually Audrey has to be the one doing that, I have to go get some last minute work done this afternoon,” Dara looked with curiosity to her cousin and she shrugged a bit. “I’m taking Dada with me, so I think these two will be alone.”

It was then when Billie looked at Dara with some kind of uncertainty in her eyes, taking her hand in hers, as if asking if she really got it under control. Dara felt moved for some reason, taking in count almost nine years ago she was the one trying to stop Billie from going into that house all alone. But she only leant over her again, this time kissing her wife fully on the lips while her free hand grabbed her cane, ending the soft affectionate move with a mere brush of noses.

“Take care, okay? I love you,” Billie mumbled, placing her hand in Dara’s thigh for a second. “Call me if it gets too bad, promise it.”

And to that Dara, already swooning too much, kissed her again to seal that promise.

Audrey got a big goodbye kiss on the cheek, as usual, while Danielle was hugged from behind and Damien got a kiss on top of her hair and, like that, Dara was making her way to her car with a brownie for take out and all the worries about Nora bottled inside.

While driving, Dara tried to come up with a line of act. Would be Nora altered? Would she need to do an intervention? Would she have to get help from the other ghosts in the house? The only ones she manage to...befriend were the Harmon women and, stil, she wasn’t sure if Moira actually liked her taking in count the first time they saw each other...well, Dara didn’t see her in her true form right away. Hayden at times, and it was always weird. And in a very good day, specially good even, Nora’s husband exchanged some words with her.

That was maybe the weirdest part of it all, that Charles had seen her close enough to actually talk to her, because when Billie had tried to contact him - the couple few times for her research - he didn’t make a single sound.

When Dara pulled over, her head was full of all the things that could go wrong with Nora or any of the other ghosts in the house. If she had any energy back during the morning, it all went away in the fifteen minute ride to the house, making her feel as she was feeling all those days Billie was away.

Tiresome, too tiresome.

But when she crossed the fence, she fell in the spell the house always had around. Dara’s eyes went first around the front yard, taking in count every little thing she had done to keep the abandonment at bay. The lawn was a bit wet, the rose bushes as well and then Vivien was squat down in front of Nora, with Violet sitting by her side and taking her hand.

Dara walked slowly towards them, her cane tapping in the stones of the tiny path, feeling heavy with each step but getting confident as she went further and further. Vivien saw her first, then Violet, and both stood up giving Dara a pitiful and desperate look. Once they were gone, it was time for Dara to get near Nora finally, and she could only get her eyes on her back and her whole aura.

For Dara, Nora glowed that day in a different light.

“What’s the prettiest gal around doing here all alone?” she raised her voice, with enough sweetness and tenderness to sweeten up Nora’s mood.

“Waiting for the sun to come to me, sweetie pie,” for Nora, she was always something along ‘sweet’, because she couldn’t see her as anything else. “Did you see the rosebuds? They’re so lovely right now...”

Nora felt how Dara, her sweet Dally, kneeled with a bit of trouble behind her, soon getting the mint scent of her shampoo filling her whole. She could smell a hint of cigarette, Billie Dean’s perfume and the earthy scent that she came to associate with the woman that was hugging her from behind. Leaning back in the embrace, Nora lifted her hand to meet Dara’s left cheek still without looking at her, indulging in how she was resting her chin in her shoulder and pressing a light kiss in her jaw before looking at the bush with her.

“Not as lovely as you,” Nora chuckled at the flattery, knowing Dara didn’t lie when she said that. “Were you feeling better that you decided to come out?”

“Not really, but I felt like getting some watering done, can you believe it? Me, wanting to do such thing,” that drew a low laugh from both, making Dara tighten her hug. Nora went to put her hand over Dara’s, tracing her rings as usual to calm herself...even when she felt calm enough that day. “My mother would had been laughing at me for years if she ever came to know.”

“Then we are lucky she would never do,” Nora closed her eyes, feeling the warmth spreading in her chest. “Why don’t we move inside, darling? I brought with me some chocolate cake and we can make some tea, maybe tell me how was your day? I’m yours all noon.”

All mine. It rolled even more sweet in her tongue for the few seconds Nora took to react. God, she wished that was the whole and only truth in the world. She complied to that, however, whispering barely an ‘of course’ before helping Dara to stand up again. Nora waited then for Dara to retrieve the box with the cake at the porch stairs, feeling all the warmth in her body to gather where her heart was supposed to be, and once she was again by her side she quickly linked their arms to walk side by side inside.

Nora could feel the rest in the house withdraw to their usual accommodations, they always did that when she was wandering around, and she thanked them all inside because that’s everything she wanted right now.

Chattering idly about banal things, they made their way to the kitchen that looked much better without all the things Vivien had equipped it with when they moved back in two thousand eleven. Both Billie and Dara had spent their good money in remodeling the place, little by little, so it was more like it was used to be than what years and years of different owners made it to be. It made Nora feel better for sure, less confused and out of place, because as much as she made Charles’ life a living Hell when they were alive...she was still very much thankful to him for building the place, and sorry at times for being like that.

That much she could say, at least, because she didn’t ever love him.

Because ‘love’ was what she felt for the first time when, one night, she decided to come out of the basement, encountering a curious woman in their backyard. Same woman that was now with her back facing her, humming along a song while setting up the kettle over the stove. How curious it was that these days she could recall things like that, but she gladly took it in because it made her feel content.

She picked at the cake with the plastic spoon, knowing she didn’t need to actually eat, but indulging because Dara had brought it. In her days, things like that weren’t usual at all, so it was kind of a delight to be able to share this even when she couldn’t feel much of it aside of the taste before it went away.

However, her focus changed when Dara finally set their cups of tea in the counter and sat close to her, letting the kettle close in case they wanted more. Fishing her phone - and this time Nora didn’t make a face! - from her pocket, Dara put it there too before turning all her attention to her. It was easy to notice that for Nora, because her sweetheart always spread her legs a bit, letting enough space in case she wanted to come even closer, and had her left hand resting in the back of Nora’s tall chair.

“Dally, are you okay?” was the first thing she asked, watching how the lovely features of her darling were filled with dread even when her smile was on. She could see the light dark circles under her eyes behind the make-up and how she bit her lip every few minutes.

“Yeah darling, why wouldn’t I?” she laughed in response, moving her hand to accommodate Nora’s shawl better.

“You look tired, spent even,” Nora wasn’t the best at being subtle, so she preferred to be direct. “Do I have to call Billie Dean and put her arse into place? I swear if she’s treating yo-”

“Everything is fine Nora, don’t worry,” Dara laced her fingers with Nora’s then, making her feel that calmness that she loved about the woman in front of her. “My leg has been acting up for a few days already and work has been...awful, so I couldn’t rest much. Also how can it be Billie’s fault when she barely got home yesterday? Give her some rest.”

No, I can’t give her some rest. Nora thought squeezing Dara’s hand a bit in hers. Not when she’s in charge of giving you all our love. But she nodded, agreeing to not put in place the other socialité, because if Dara asked her to do something she would do it right away. It visibly calmed her having Nora to agree, though, and it was a view to sore eyes having her smiling in that way her dimples showed up.

"Then tell me, who do I have to terrorize the next time the house let me go out," Nora asked, not wanting to break the contact, while tracing Dara's knuckles with her thumb. "You know I can get quite scary."

"I think at this rate I'll be quitting before Halloween," Dara laughed at that, the stress lacing in her words. "But I don't want to talk about work, I'd prefer to talk about what are we doing this year in your day off, do you want to go to the movies? Or maybe this year you want to go to the beach? We can even go home and relax there, you name it, you have it."

Home. The word tasted sweet in her tongue again, and Nora really wished that apartment to be their home...or well, even the house they were in right now. It didn't matter for her to be honest, because anywhere Dara was, for Nora was already home.

And while they started to talk about it, all the possibilities they had to fulfill in twenty four hours, Nora's mind started to wander in all those things she usually thought when she was alone.

At times, Nora pictured Dara in the time she was alive. Oh, she would totally be a charmer, one of those flappers that Nora’s mother hated so much and made sure she wasn’t even close to by making her attend parties full of ‘proper’ ladies and gentlemen alike. But she knew that Dara would manage to sneak in, her manners blending perfectly and ‘innocently’ hanging around her, sharing with Nora stories about dancing freely along the music that was played in ballrooms and about a house in the coast where they could do whatever they wanted.

Not only that would made Nora fall in love with the concept of freedom, but also with the concept that maybe her future wasn’t tied to a man nor to a child of her own...nor even tied to the status and the money. At first lying about the nature of their hangs out would be almost the rule, but then eventually moving together because ‘they liked to be around each other too much’, and then the rumors would start of course. But Nora found herself not caring at all, because as long as she was by Dara’s side that's all that mattered to her.

Cake and tea gone, Nora listened to something Dara was telling her with passion, barely asking for permission to lit up the cigarette she had been rolling while talking, before keep with the topic. Of course Dara would smoke back in the twenties too, but Nora imagined her smoking cigarrillos more than the regular or even smoking pipe, the room note hanging wonderfully in her clothes and Nora imagined herself wrapped in one of Dara’s shirts, getting comfort from that solely when she was out of the house.

“I think I’ve never seen you in this dress,” Dara’s fingers brought her back to the present when they fixed the white shawl, giving her a soft caress in her chin. “It suits you, brings your eyes and lips out.”

“You’re terrible,” In that moment, and back in her time, she blushed as fiercely as she allowed herself, her hand going quickly to shush Dara. “I had it since forever, it’s one of my favourites! I wore it before.”

“Okay, okay,” Dara chuckled again, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out of her nose and mouth in a swift move. “Sorry, these days my mind isn’t that sharp...still, you truly look beautiful Nora.”

You had nothing to be sorry for. Nora thought while finally giving in and getting her chair closer to Dara, which only looked at her warmly before leaning to kiss her temple and place her right arm over Nora’s lap, resting her hand in her hip. She missed the days they could kiss openly, mostly because she found herself comfortable being held by her and pampered in love just like that, but she understood that now things had changed.

Damned you, Billie Dean, seven times damned. Nora couldn’t blame her, indeed, she felt...at peace knowing that her favourite people finally made themselves official. But that couldn’t stop her from being jealous of the medium, jealous because many times she wished to be the one that had gifted her that gold ring with tiny rubies that rested in Dara’s left ring finger, jealous because...well, Billie was alive and could give everything to their pretty flower.

“You aren’t that bad yourself, sweetheart,” she mumbled in response, leaning a bit better and resting her head in Dara’s shoulder, her hand tracing her necklace and fixing her shirt.

“Miss Montgomery, you’re terrible! Scandalous even, wow,” Dara imitated her and Nora closed her eyes, feeling how her laugh vibrated through her skin like a soft hum that made her chuckle in response. And then a sweet silence settled between them, until Dara broke it again. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, mhm?”

Oh, Nora didn’t know how to start to reply to that.

In fact she didn’t even know why Dara was there to begin with, but she found herself not caring because it was like her own feelings had summoned her that day to the house.

Nora had opened her eyes in the morning as if she had the longest nap ever, those days being like that, like a never ending nap that gave her enough energies to go through one and only day; and she felt somewhat free. The basement was in silence, as it always was after her Thaddeus had passed a few years ago, but something was calling her to go upstairs. She had done that and the first person she crossed ways with had been Hayden, that looked at her half worried half shocked, and then Violet had almost knocked her down while asking if she was feeling alright.

‘More than alright, I think I’m gonna take a walk around the house today.’ she had tell her and it didn’t come from the white lies she always told. Nora had been feeling great the moment she was out of her usual place in the house. It had been like something had set off from her chest and she could breathe again.

So she had done that with Violet by her side, listening to all the stories Nora had of the house. Stories of the past but also of the present, and it came a moment in which she could only talk about memories she made with the woman that was holding her so tightly in her arms.

“Not much,” Nora decided to reply, closing her eyes again to indulge in the warmth. “Just that I’m glad you are here...I kinda felt like dancing today.”

When the little walk around the house had came to an end, Nora had felt like a spark starting in her belly, the one she always got when she was ready to do something fun and new. That same spark was what had brought her outside, feeling the sun in her like as if it was something she never experienced before. Then her eyes had fixed in the rose bushes - white roses starting to bloom, white roses that were planted because they were Nora’s favourites - and she found herself wondering once again if she ever felt that content with something so simple.

“Dancing? Well, I can fix that then,” Dara finally moved and Nora almost yelled at her to not go, a sudden panic rising in her chest and her throat, but then she placed her lips to her forehead lightly to not stain her skin with lipstick. “But first I need to go to the bathroom, you wait me here okay? I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Sure, I’ll clean this...mess to entertain myself,” Nora said, letting out an exasperated breathe that made Dara laugh in response, retrieving her cane from where it was resting. “Making a girl wait, her manners’ been rubbing off on you miss Lynch.”

Nora had managed to get some already bloomed and do a simple arrangement to put as decoration somewhere in the house. But the second she had looked at her work, her energies fell to the ground and her legs hadn’t been able to hold her anymore. Alone, but without the need to call out for help, she waited there just feeling her body lighter, in hopes the sun helped her to regain some energies to keep moving. Oh, what her mother would had said if she passed out in the lawn? Her eyes could only keep themselves busy in those roses about to bloom, soft rosebuds she wasn’t sure if she was going to see them at all.

“Nora?” Violet’s voice made her hum just to let the girl know she was being listened, but her fingers were moving along the form of Dara’s cellphone. “Where’s-”

“Bathroom, in the other house,” Nora didn’t look at her, with a mere move of her head in the correct direction. “Could you give me a hand, dear? I need...well, I don’t know how this works aside that you can call, so...I want to speak with Billie Dean.”

“Why don’t you wa-”

“Privately, Violet,” she felt the tears tingling in her eyes, threatening to spill, but Nora held them. “Please.”

It wasn’t until Dara had arrived, all of a sudden, that she actually felt that both Vivien and Violet had been trying to make her go inside. The time in between when she felt her energies fall until Dara was hugging her from behind was blank in her mind, but she found herself yet again not minding at all because her sun was there already to take her home. It was the only thing she needed at this point to keep going...and now that Dara was there, she felt complete...

However, there was still a little something in her, waiting to be untied and set free once for all. Something that had to do with the woman she, along Violet, was trying to reach. The teenager was quick to find Billie’s contact and when the phone started to ring, she wasn’t nervous at all. Her hand went to where she knew the bullet hole was, out of habit, just to find the spot clean of any wound, and she smiled softly when she found her mouth didn’t taste like iron and salt.

“Annie?” oh, how jealous Nora was because she took the softer name to make it hers. “It’s me Billie Dean.” Nora said, moderating her voice because Dara had taught her at least that she didn’t need to yell at all. “Nora...is Annie with you? Is she okay?” Billie was nervous, panicked even, but she was trying to sound composed to not give it away. “Yes, she just went to Constance’s for a second. I wanted to speak with you before she comes back, Violet helped me with...the demonic device.” and at that, Nora shushed Violet with her hand so she could be alone in the kitchen. “One day you’ll call it by its name, ‘s way easier darling,” Nora chuckled at that because God, how different it felt be called sweet names from different people, even if it was the same one. “Of course.” she rubbed her hands together for a second, not knowing how to say those words. “Then...what did you want to talk about?” Billie encouraged her and Nora caught a laugh from behind her voice, not Billie’s at all. “I...thank you, Billie Dean. Thank you, for everything you have done for me.” and with that, the little something was gone and she felt even more light, her head feeling more clear. “Simple as that, just thank you.” and the silence arrived in the other side of the line at the same time the front door unlocked.

Nora’s hand pushed the red button quickly, as Violet had told her to if she wanted to end the call, and then left the phone where it was before she decided to move towards the living room and wait for Dara there.

It wasn’t as simple as that, because that would probably the first time Nora ever thanked Billie. A thank you for not letting anyone else to come into this cursed house by buying it, a thank you for restoring it for her, a thank you for letting her come in their lives…

...a thank you for letting her love Dara in a way she died without knowing it was possible.

“Did the ballroom started without me?” Dara said in a happy-go-lucky tone, hobbling slowly in the living room with her phone in hand. “Which song are we playi-”

“Can you sing today, dear?” it wasn’t an usual request, but Nora wanted to hear Dara’s voice as much as possible. “I love your voice.”

“Of course, anything for you,” when Nora looked at Dara, she looked younger, almost like she looked ten years ago when they met. Her features full of that softness she usually got when she was looking at Billie…but now, her girl got it all for her. “Then I’ll start with my favourite one.”

Once Dara was holding her close to her body, Nora knew that was where she belonged. An arm over Dara’s shoulders, the other one sandwiched in between their bodies, all of that while holding her handkerchief with one of her dearest one’s hands resting over and pushing it to her chest, where her beating heart sounded for them two. Nora found her right place in the hollow of Dara’s neck, where she could feel how the woman was starting to sing only for her.

Oh, it felt beautifully to experience that.

She chuckled when Dara changed the lyrics to fit a bit better, all of that as they swinged ever so softly, and she could feel more eyes watching them. The energy of the rest occupants was starting to beat too fast for her, in a pace she felt herself not belonging, and she decide to press her lips to Dara’s cleavage - in the start, almost in the middle of her chest - to make herself feel anchored to something. It left a lipstick mark, but who cared in that moment? All Nora could hear at this point was how Dara’s heartbeat felt more easy to follow than anything else.

And because she finally found her own beat, her own pace...that’s why Nora felt brave enough to say those next words.

“I love you Dally,” Dara didn’t stop from moving but she did stop from singing, just so she could meet Nora’s eyes. She felt so full, so light at the same time, so very much at peace. “I love you, and I will always do.”

Easy as it was, Nora stood on her tiptoes to initiate for the first time a kiss. A kiss that was returned as if it was meant to be...as if it wasn’t going to be the last.

When Dara opened her eyes, Nora wasn’t there, but her handkerchief was still pressed in her palm. She looked around for a second, her fingers pressed then to her lips with the lingering warmth Nora left, and the silence started to press all over her body in a way she never felt before.

“Nora, where are you?” she asked out loud, moving to retrieve her cane once again, looking around not only the living room but in the kitchen. “Nora! C’mon darling, you know I don’t like playing hide and seek,” her voice wavered and for a second she tried to reach for Nora’s energy in some way, like Billie once taught her to, but not working at all. “Nora!”

Every second that it passed, Dara calling the name of the ghost, it was a torture. Not only because she didn’t get any response back but also because it started to wake other ghosts in the house. Vivien and Violet appeared when she rounded the stairs, ready to go to the basement alone - a voice really similar to Billie’s screaming at her to not do that -, and made her go upstairs along a confused Tate that was drawn by all the ruckus. Hayden’s voice was heard outside the house, calling for Nora too, but any of them got a response.

She was starting to panic, panic like she never did before.

The tension in her whole body was enough to make her grit her teeth, piling up in her chest and starting to burn with the buzz of all the souls trapped in the Montgomery's house. That’s why she didn’t like that part of her powers, that’s why she was so overwhelmed that there was too much activity in one place. It made her feel she was going to explode.

And when she got to the open kitchen again, Tate behind her almost pulling all his hair out, Dara finally saw Charles.

Vivien, Violet, Moira and Hayden were looking at him too, as if they had never seen him before. He looked...clean, out of her scrubs and with a proper suit. Dara knew that suit, it was the same he was wearing in that family picture Billie and her found of the Montgomery’s. Somehow, he also looked more...free, as to speak, his energy felt almost refreshing when his was always one of those that reeked in a different intensity.

Dara felt her heart beating so loud in her ears, however, making her see red again today and feeling a sudden burst of heat in her chest. In a swift movement of her hand, she held her cane more like a bat than a cane, ready to smash his head if that meant to know where Nora was, but before she could take the first step Charles spoke up.

"She's not here," his eyes went then to the rest in the kitchen before landing again in Dara. "It's useless that you keep on calling out for her.."

"What are you saying? Where did she go," it came out of Dara's mouth more like a growl than a question, one that hanged between all of them as if it was an unspoken truth and made Dara to feel multiple chills running down her spine. "I'm not joking Charles! Where the fuck is Nora!?"

"I think you know where she is, dear," this time it was Moira the one that talked, her voice filled with sadness, relief and maybe a bit of jealousy. "We all know."

No, no, no.

"For a really long time we avoided each other, even before we...ended like this," Charles kept going, walking now to the middle of the empty living room. "Money, the house, our son... everything was something ideal to argue about. It pained me, those times I was lucid, to see us like that," he chuckled lightly and Dara's heart beated harder, painfully even. "To see that I couldn't make her happy in any possible way. It's macabre to say we got what we deserved, mostly because it was my fault what transpired in the last moments of our lives, and as the years passed by...well, let's say a hundred years gives you enough time to think and see as much as I was lost in myself."

Dara didn't want to listen to him, she really didn't. She closed her eyes and tried harder to reach Nora's energy, feeling even more strained by doing so, and then she fell to her knees without strength. A set of hands reached for her, burning like molten metal that she couldn't roll away from. But her eyes, now open again, went to the man that had stopped in his advance.

Tears blinded her, making Charles blurry in short distance along the tiny child that was crawling towards him.

Charles looked around then before leaning to take his son in his arms, smiling tenderly upon seeing his perfect face instead of what he became because of him. Giving him a cuddle in his cheek, perfect round cheek so similar to his wife, he finally looked at the woman that was breaking down in front of him. How she was being held by that young lady, the daughter of the last owners of the house; how she was crying her eyes out, the loss hitting her like icy water; how it made him see that his most wanted wish was finally fulfilled.

Didn’t Charles wanted to make Nora happy since the moment they met? Didn’t he wanted her to know he loved her?

He wasn’t able to do it, but through the last decade he had seen how someone else did. How someone had pulled all the broken pieces that he contributed to smash and put them together again; how someone else heard his Nora, made her feel important, made her grow out of many of the things that remained in her from her youth, loved her as she was instead of wanting to change her, and overall made her happy in the palace he built for her to enjoy to her heart’s content.

And that helped him heal along the way in the shadows, where anyone was noticing him, until the same woman that swiped his wife of her feet reached for him too.

“Above all the wrong I did, above all the chaos that we were,” Charles felt himself smiling truthfully after too many years, feeling how Thaddeus started to fall asleep in his shoulder. “I do have to thank you, miss Lynch, because you made us see what we truly needed.” And it felt so peaceful saying that, the heavy weight remaining in his presence lifting and flying away. “I would suggest, however, to take some vacation from my dearest house...I’m afraid there are still too many evil forces and our darling Nora isn’t here to protect you anymore.”

When Charles walked away, his silhouette and energy gone of the house, the whole place seemed to hiss and creak under Dara’s body.

A new rush of energy filled her, the adrenaline pumping in her veins with such strength that when Violet and Vivien pulled her up she didn’t feel any pain. That wasn’t the only thing she was feeling, because the energy of the house was trying to pick at her all at once. She overheard steps all over the place, not only upstairs, but also downstairs and her sense to flight ringed louder than ever when she saw Tate launching himself against another ghost that was entering the living room in that moment. The house was trying to eat her alive, not only her energy - or what was left of it at this point - but her whole body too.

"You have to go," Vivien said before Violet took Dara's hand to make her run. "Don't worry about us, you have to make it home."

The only thing Dara did was to tighten the grip on Violet's hand as they started to run as much as they could through the back door in the kitchen.

Billie had a bad feeling installed in her stomach the second Nora hanged up the phone. Not only because it was the second time in her life that someone hanged up on her, but because she had this heavy pressure in the back of her head. Pressure that was only making her more and more restless as the minutes passed by.

Audrey was being a sweetheart, like always, being the one carrying the conversation most of the time or suggesting that they should do a marathon on that show they promised to watch together. She had let Billie put her legs on her lap, she had turned a blind eye on how Billie checked her phone every few minutes - when usually she didn’t like to have it near at all, now she had it pressed to her chest as if having the device in her skin would calm her-, she had offered to make tea and sandwiches and...and Billie couldn’t be more thankful to at least have Audrey here.

When Billie spied on Audrey making the afternoon snack, she had wondered where she had learnt to be like that. Even when she was feeling uneasy, Billie’s mind dug up everything she had learnt in those years about her best friend, and she was sure the way she was trying to act more homie wasn’t something she had in her before. Half hidden between the cushions, Billie’s mind also started to wonder and wonder, and in between wondering she asked herself for a second if maybe once was remotely possible to have that view everyday.

But soon she found that the view didn’t happen in her old kitchen, didn’t belong to this time nor even to this her.

This her wasn’t what Audrey needed, that for sure, what she neede-

Audrey thought she was going to have a heart attack the second the door opened wide all of a sudden. It banged against the wall with such strength that it startled her enough to drop what she had in her hands. Turning around, the only two things Audrey saw was Billie standing up of the couch at light speed and Dara in between the couch and the kitchen counter, panting harshly as if she was barely catching her breath in that moment.

All that before falling to the ground as if her whole body had given up.

It sent Audrey to panic, making her let out a loud gasp, and she rounded the counter to find Dara sobbing loudly on the floor, clawing at her shirt as if she was trying to get out of it unsuccessfully and she was clearly hurting herself in the process.

“Annie, Annie, stop!” Billie’s panicked scream made Audrey react enough to hold herself in the counter. She silently watched in horror how her best friend reached her wife, the first thing she did was to hold her wrists to stop her. “God, you’re...bleeding, what...Annie, please, don’t-”

In all the time Audrey had known the couple, she hadn’t seen the youngest part of it to act differently as calm. Dara’s sobs were heartbreaking, choking on her tears and own breathing, making her cough violently because she was trying to speak at the same time. It was a mess, a scary one in fact, and Billie was handling it all by herself as best as she knew.

“Baby, please, I need to see...” Dara had managed to break free from Billie’s hold and was now protecting her neck for her dear life while Billie was trying to pull her up against her chest, so Dara’s back was resting there. “You’re boiling in fever...Annie, c-can you stand up? Love, listen to me, you need to calm down…”

But the best that Billie knew, wasn’t enough right now.

How could she handle Audrey so well, yet when her wife was the one she was about to panic? She didn’t ever see Billie panic, getting mad for sure, but panic? Ever. And as scared, anxious and confused as Audrey was, something inside her tried to clear her head to help two of the three people in her life that always came to rescue her when the bad days were too much to handle.

“Bills, we need to get her in the shower,” Audrey’s strained voice surprised Billie, but watching her move was what made her react again. Dara was pretty much still a mess, but now she was trying to hide in Billie’s chest with any energy she had left. “You hold her body, I get her legs.”

Watching Dara whine and cry harder just because she seemed to think Billie was leaving her was one of the hardest things she saw. Billie kissed her head and whispered things Audrey couldn’t understand for a solid minute before they managed to lift her joining forces. Dara hissed in pain as soon as Audrey pulled her legs up and Billie looked even more in panic, eyes even more full of unshed tears. But they made it to the ensuite bathroom as fast as they could, which made the suffering end quickly.

“I’ll start the shower, get her out of her clothes and...try to see if she’s more hurt,” Audrey was trying to keep her cool, let Billie handle her wife, by being useful and ease things for them.

“Yeah, I-I’ll...yeah,” her hands were unbuttoning Dara’s shirt when Audrey turned around to give them some privacy, which she always tried to give them even when they were together. “My love, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere…” ‘My love’ sounded right in Billie’s lips when she directed i to Dara. “There you a-your knees are scraped too...Annie, what happened…”

Dara only sobbed harder with that and when Audrey turned around again, she felt her heart squeeze very tightly inside her ribcage upon seeing Dara like that. Stripped down except for her underwear, she realized then that she wasn’t as full as she used to be, her skin was glistening with sweat and Billie had used her own t-shirt to clean the blood coming out of her nose and out of the scratches in her chest. Did she always had that scar in her left collarbone? Even the scar from the accident in her right hip was even more scary. And all of that as whole made Dara look so...small and vulnerable, that she could understand why Billie was crying finally.

“Billie,” Audrey called out for her and Billie seemed so lost once she managed to look back, so sad, that she had to put her bravest face on to not let away her own fear. “If she has fever, we have to lower it.”

Billie looked then at Audrey with new eyes, her arms tightening around Dara to protect her from anything.

The uneasiness she was feeling suddenly made sense, the voice talking to her from another side telling her something completely different to what she was hearing in reality. And it was a shock that she totally wasn’t prepared for. How bad she wanted to kiss, to hide, to do anything in her power to take the suffering away from her wife.

“Sweetie,” she felt her body restarting, letting go a ragged breath for a second, her hand cradling Dara’s head against her chest better. “She’s burning up and if we don’t do something, it will go worse.”

“Yeah, we have to,” Billie felt herself nod, only making worse the raging headache she felt building up behind her eyes, and she wasn’t sure how but with Audrey’s help they both lifted Dara again to make her stand in her feet, even when it was clear she couldn’t keep herself standing. “Let’s do it, I got you...we got you.”

Upon saying that, Billie suddenly felt the scent of million roses filling her. Oh, you were always so extra. She felt herself tearing up again and Dara got a new whole wave of sobs, because obviously she was feeling it too. Audrey couldn’t, God blessed her, and she felt more eager to get Dara under the shower just because of that.

Billie didn’t care her clothes got wet, she just stood there holding her close to her chest and letting her cry. When was the last time she was like that? Not even the breakdown in the morning compared to this one, it wasn’t even similar. And she let her do that, to cry, to be held, to let go of all that; because she deserved it. Trembling as she was, Dara kept mumbling and sobbing what it seemed apologies, and Billie shushed her with all the care in the world.

They would overcome this too, she was sure of it, as they did all those times before...but this time, Billie was going to be the one guiding her love through it.

Once Dara managed to stop trembling and to be separated from her wife, Audrey got her wrapped in a towel, firm arms holding her while Billie took off her clothes and went to retrieve dry ones for both. Asking her in a mere whisper if she could walk, Audrey also managed to make Dara move little by little towards the bed, where she sat her and started to check the superficial scratches she had. Billie left a pair of her own pajamas by Dara’s side before going to retrieve something to patch her wife up, and, along with her best friend, they worked through the tiny injuries before helping Dara to get in new clothes.

“I’ll go get some tea,” Audrey said finally in tiny voice, once Dara was settled under the covers like a crying ball that she still was, and Billie was trying to kiss her tears away. “Do you want something else dear?”

“C-can you stay tonight?” Billie asked right away, looking up at her friend in a way Audrey never saw her before. “I know you have a lot on your plate, even more after these days, and I’m sor-”

But Billie got silent went Audrey walked towards her to kiss her forehead first and then put her hand in Dara’s cheek tenderly. How could she say no when they both had done bigger things for her? How could deny her best friend that, seeing how much she needed a hand with this new situation, when she never asked something in return?

“I’ll do, don’t even apologize,” she said in a whisper before leaving the room. “I’ll also get some hot towels just in case, okay?”

When they were alone, Billie didn’t lose time to get in bed with Dara, who reached for her as soon as she was close to bury her face in her chest once more. She wasn’t sobbing anymore, thankfully, but it was scary how she seemed unable to stop from crying. Billie brushed her wet locks of hair out of her face and kissed her brow with love, kissed anywhere she could to not let her think she was alone.

“I’m sorry I let her go,” Dara cried, her body shaking with a sob that never reached her lips. “I’m sorry Billie, I’m sorry...I had to do something, anything...and now she’s...she’s gone Billie, Nora is gone…”

“Your love took her there,” Billie whispered with the warmth she felt in the back of her neck intensifying because she knew they were being listened. “You healed her, my love, you helped her to finally move on...and that’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Billie knew too many things Dara was completely oblivious of, oh that she knew, too many years holding all the secrets the ghost confided in her. And her last words for her wife were full of those secrets and the truth.

Maybe one day she would be able to tell everything to Dara, because she was sure Nora wanted her to know eventually; maybe the next morning she would ask for the whole version of what truly happened; maybe Billie would find a way to let Dara go back to the place she loved.

But for the rest of night, once Audrey came back with everything and with her help they kinda sandwiched her wife between them, she was pretty much okay with finally resting of the whole madness that this was.

Rest from all the countdowns that came to an end in two days. Rest from all the doubts and wonderings, rest from ten years of being a total coward.

Rest knowing that, finally, she was free to love Dara as much as she deserved.

#nora montgomery x original character #ahs murder house #ahs roanoke #nora montgomery #billie dean howard #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard x original character

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