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exosmutfactory · 4 years ago

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Six Phases 006 Pt 1

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: Hello!~ Long time no see. Are you ready for what comes next? 🤭😇

This chapter update is 20.5k so far... and it’s only the 1st “section” of Chapter 6 so you can imagine how this is gonna go (<.<) oops

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut (in part 2) ]

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⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010

(I was unable to tag one of you guys, sorry love💗)

If you’d like to be added next time, please check out this blog post. Thank you ^^ 🌹

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A/N: I will be making the story layout more pretty ^^ Hope you like it! Let’s go!~

Track 01

It's funny how the most important people in your life can enter your world at any given moment. So suddenly—so unexpectedly that you can't imagine your new acquaintance becoming one of your best friends, a flirty friend of friends looking out for you, or even winning a playboy millionaire's heart.

Sometimes these people come out of the blue, and you may not see it then, but they will become pillars to help you hold yourself up; practical family members that you can go to in times of uncertainty—and you will thank your lucky stars every night for not being dumb enough to push these pillars of strength away. Especially if one of them holds the key to your heart…

As dumb as he can be with some things.

And there's just something about observing a silver-haired man walking through a world of white. Snowflakes clinging to the top of his head and his brown winter coat as he struggles with a large box in his hands.

• • •

The adorable pout on his lips makes a giggle escape mine. I watch him from afar with a fond smile, cupping my hands around my mouth. "Baekhyun!"

My loud call seems to startle him. I burst into laughter as he stumbles over his feet again. "Here, here." Chuckling, I quickly run across the parking lot to assist him. Thankfully without slipping on a patch of black ice along the way. "Let me help you."

"Please do." His warm brown eyes meet mine under the dim street lights, a pout still on his lips. "You sure we'll be alone tonight? This box is quite heavy."

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, neatly tucking my hands under the box along with his, my mitten-covered fingertips brushing against his leather gloves. "Yes babe, it's just you and me~"

Baekhyun hums, unconvinced, as we walk the box to his car, carefully setting it on the floor in the backseat. I catch a whiff of his heart-fluttering, cinnamon-scented cologne before he walks around to the driver's side. "Ready to tell me what's in it?" He raises a brow, resting his folded arms on the top of the snow-covered Audi, a smile playing at his lips.

"I'll think about it~" I chirp, slipping into the passenger seat as he climbs in with a chuckle, hovering my palms over the vent when he starts the car and cranks up the heat. "It's a surprise though."

He hums, carefully backing out of the empty parking lot.

"Oh!" Turning to him with my best puppy eyes, I softly ask, "Can we stop by the convenience store?"

"If you tighten your seatbelt," He advises, taking a quick glance at me and a moment to adjust his own before turning onto the road.

I lean back in the comfortable leather seat, humming along to a familiar song on the radio as he taps his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. A smile forming on my lips while admiring his side profile against the snowy backdrop of the fogged-up driver's window.

He glances over with a smile of his own, "What?"

I can't help but giggle. "Nothing." Cheekily resting my chin on my palm and balancing my elbow on the handle of the door, I muse, "Just admiring my handsome boyfriend."

Even with only the glow from the radio and the occasional streetlight, I can spot the telling red color on his cheeks. "Shh, you're distracting me." He insists in a flustered murmur, steering the wheel.

Chuckling softly, I turn to face the window, sneaking a peek at him every now and then.

• • •

After I flashed the cashier my ID and purchased what I desired at the store, I held the bottle in my lap for the rest of the ride home, carrying it up as Baekhyun assured me he could manage walking the box on his own to the elevator. Of course, I held open the door for him to make both our lives—and my subconscious—easier, and I unlocked the one to our shared apartment.

He had asked me to move in with him the night of our one year anniversary. The question came so out of the blue, I nearly sprayed champagne all over his nervous features across our chandelier-lit table at an upscale Italian restaurant. I mean… I love surprises—and him as well—but damn man, not even a subtle warning!? And why the hell does he want to live with me anyway?

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," He murmurs, cheeks rosy. From his confession or the champagne, no one knows. My face doesn't feel like it's doing any better either. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to-"

—Okay, okay. Baekhyun is a hopeless romantic who I'm forever trying my best not to melt into a lovestruck puddle on the floor because of his heart quaking words. And what he wants is what he gets. Most of my clothes are stored in our closet, my purple toothbrush next to his golden one, and my 'emergency' duffle bag is stuffed in the farthest corner of the large space.

Now that I'm officially considered, "Baekhyun's woman," Among his group of friends, I have plenty of options for places to crash for a few nights if the need arises. I'm still getting used to his face being the first thing I see in the morning and sometimes I need a little breather, especially when I sense an argument on the rise. It's all fun and games until we're both running low on sleep and high on adrenaline. A girl's always got to have a plan B.

Even Jongdae offered me his guest bedroom for shelter—and sleepovers!—since Jenny moved in with him after graduating earlier in the year. Must be nice, I got a few classes to finish up while diligently editing the current novel that Park's Publishing is working towards welcoming to the public. It's a lengthy fantasy read full of cheesy romance and battling monsters I can't even think to name—typical shit, a few twists and turns along the way, you get the gist.

Baekhyun carefully sets the box down in the living room while I remove my white coat and snow-covered shoes, quickly skipping into the kitchen with the bottle in hand. "Still trying to figure it out?" I call over my shoulder, moving to get ice from the freezer.

"They're definitely canned," He murmurs, padding into the room on sock-clad feet; his arms wrapping around my waist and chin resting on my shoulder as I work on the countertop. "Did you order exotic food again?"

I shake the bottle in my hand, "What goes good with vodka?" Looking over my shoulder, I find his eyes shifting back and forth between the drink in my hand, and the two iced filled glasses on the counter. His brown eyes light up in realization. "Cheerwine?" He chuckles at my excited nod, "You were serious, weren't you?"

"I miss my homeland soda, okay!" I huff, grinning at his endearing laugh before batting my eyes up at him, "Mind opening the box, babe?~" My eyes flutter closed as he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"Of course," He murmurs, soft lips curled in a smile.

As he goes to unpack the drinks, I put my focus back on the ones in front of me, carefully pouring roughly an ounce of vodka in each glass. There is no desire to party too hard tonight when both of us have work in the morning.

"Are you ready, babe?" I tilt my head towards him, holding a glass in each hand. At the confirmation of him indeed prying open the box, I bring the drinks into the living room, neatly setting them down next to the two red cans on the coffee table. "Ready to relax?" I utter playfully to his lean body stretched comfortably across the entirety of our black & white striped couch. His black button-down shirt and matching snug jeans straining deliciously over his thick thighs and firm chest.

Baekhyun nods with a soft hum, and I won't even deny the way my heartbeat skips when he sits up, welcoming me into his open arms with sparkly brown orbs. "Come here."

Accepting the invitation—what am I gonna do? Say no? No way in hell—I carefully nestle myself in his lap, snuggling into his firm chest as my cheeks warm. They burn even more as my eyes catch his fond-filled ones. "Uh-uh." I gulp, squeaking, "Drinks?" Carefully pulling the tab on the first can he hands me before leaning forward to pour an even amount of soda in each glass. Relishing in the familiarity that washes over me in wake of the soft fizz.

Baekhyun hums, a soft smile playing at his lips. He hands me a glass and collects the other for himself. The feeling of his racing heart on my back has me hiding a smile of my own in the fabric of my pastel green turtleneck. I watch his reaction as he takes a tentative sip; his jaw moving while he seems to savor the taste before taking another, briefly meeting my eye.

I blink expectantly, "Well?"

Baekhyun chuckles, planting a heart-fluttering kiss on my nose. "It has a nice cherry flavor. I like it."

I hum, arching a brow, not quite satisfied. "Better than Cola?"

He laughs, nodding as I sip on my own. "Yes, baby," He murmurs, soft lips brushing over my forehead while pulling me closer, "definitely better."

With a nod, I let the conversation lull into a calm silence, nothing but the tinkering of shifting ice and the reassuring beat of Baekhyun's heart interrupting the blissful atmosphere. Nights like these are my favorite: staying in and curling up to each other for warmth. Away from the loud bustle of our daily lives.

Thankfully with my hard work ethic, (read numerous sleepless nights,) the higher-ups have allowed me to work from home as long as I come in for important meetings and I am present three days a week. I rarely miss more than a day every few weeks though; I have no issues working in my designated office there. However, having the option to pack up my laptop and go spend lunch with Baekhyun in his company a few blocks over is always a treat. And the cutest expression of surprise that forms on his features... I'm never taking it for granted.

I stir a little at a soft pressure on the top of my head, blinking a few times before looking up at an equally sleepy Baekhyun. Giggles soon escape us both. "Cheerwine is a sleeping drink, hmm?" He smiles, eyes twinkling.

"It's really relaxing okay," I smile as more laughter rumbles in his chest, melting further into him as his hand rubs soothingly over my back. "I had a lot through high school."

"Helped to prepare for finals?" He inquires, gently combing warm slender fingers through my hair, melted ice swirling around the bottom of his glass.

I nod, briefly closing my eyes with a hum. "That and facing idiots every day. I almost didn't want to go to college, man."

A gentle smile lights up his face, "But you did." The sparkle in his eyes as he gazes down at me warms me up from the inside out. "And then you met me."

"—The persistent idiot from a frat party."

"Yah!" He complains as I erupt into another giggle fit, squealing when he starts leaving ticklish kisses all over my neck.

"Hey, I'm drinking here!"

Baekhyun chuckles, stopping his playful attacks; his small smile pressed to my neck.

"What?" I mutter breathlessly, savoring the remainder of my drink while regaining my breath. Trying not to waver despite the heat rising in my cheeks under the warmth of his stare. His comforting grip on my waist isn't easily ignored either.

"Nothing," He murmurs, looking me over for a moment. Adoration shining clear in his bright orbs as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, uttering softly, "Want to take a bath with me?"

"H—Huh?" I squeak, wide-eyed, hiding behind my hand. My face damn near bursting into flames. "Why?"

Baekhyun laughs softly, briefly squeezing my waist. "I don't know, I just…" He falters, fingers fidgeting, an all-telling red hue filling his cute cheeks. "Just thought it'd be nice."

"Nice, huh?" I mumble over the rim of my glass, licking a few stray drops before they can fall while arching a brow; my lips curling at the tint of red crawling up his ears.

"Y-Yeah, I mean," He stutters, focused on my cherry lips.

"I think you just want to see me naked," I tease, leaning forward to set my glass on the wooden table behind his blushing form sitting against the armrest of the couch.

"No-" Baekhyun's breath hitches, tilting his head back at my cold lips softly exploring the warm skin of his gorgeous neck. "M-Maybe…"

"Mmhm." Gently nibbling where his neck meets his jaw and putting his half-full glass away as well, I murmur, "That can be arranged."

Baekhyun sits there for a long moment, blinking owlishly at me before he straightens up. He swoops his arms under my knees and behind my back, standing up without a word, his biceps flexing at the motion. Soft eager lips press to my squealing ones as he walks down the hall to our bedroom.

I wrap my arms around his neck with a shy smile, smirking inwardly at the rapid beat of his heart under my palm resting against his neck.

"Give me a sec," He mumbles, entering the master bathroom. He sets me down on the spacious counter and opens a nearby drawer. "Can you open the cabinet for me?"

"You're gonna light a candle?" I blink, eyes widening at the box of matches in his hand.

"Not a candle," He braces his free hand on the countertop, capturing my lips in an unhurried kiss that makes me gasp. "Many candles."

"How romantic," I chuckle, breathy as he pulls away.

"Everything for you," His lips curl into that adorable, boyish smile; his hand patiently waiting. I retrieve the container of cream-colored candles from beyond the mirrored door behind me, carefully closing it before turning back to him, watching as he lights the match. The flickering flame reflects beautifully in his brown eyes while he holds it to the first candle, the scent of vanilla filling the room. A knowing smile forms on his lips at my unwavering stare.

I clear my throat, gripping the edge of the counter, "I'll go start the water-"

Baekhyun wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back to him with a shake of his head. "No, I'll do it."

"But-"

"Baby," He has that pleading look in his eyes, lowering the lit match held between his fingertips. "Let me pamper you."

"You're gonna make me spoiled," I grumble, eyes fluttering shut at the soft brush of his lips over my cheek.

"You're my girl," He murmurs, chuckling, softly squeezing my waist. "Of course I'm going to spoil you."

My chest nearly bursts under the weight of my surging affection. "Well then..." I begin, calm despite my racing heart, sliding my hands down to unbutton his shirt and tug at the belt on his jeans. I pull up his tucked-in t-shirt, aimlessly searching for his lips. "Do it properly."

My eyes flicker open just in time to catch his adam's apple bobbing, his little nod causes my lips to curl up. He hands me the lit match before shrugging off his shirt; his black t-shirt not too far behind. I lick my lips, trailing my gaze over his honey-toned torso. Smiling before pressing my mouth back to his soft pillows, mindful of the flame between my fingers while wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "My favorite view."

Baekhyun's bashful smile presses more firmly to mine, strong arms holding me flush to his body. I don't know if the sudden heat in the room is coming from my thick clothes or the proximity of his firm chest.

Just as I start to feel overwhelmed by the warmth, he detaches our lips with a loud smooch, carefully taking the match from my hand. The passionate fire in his orbs burning brighter than the flame between his fingers is enough to make me scorching hot under the collar.

Baekhyun has that knowing little smirk forming on his face again, lighting a few more candles before blowing out the match. "I'll start the water."

I can only giggle, completely enamored with him. The twinkling sparkle in his eyes in response to my laugh makes my heartbeat skip even more. I duck my head to hide from his amused expression and adoring gaze.

He just chuckles, planting a fleeting kiss on my forehead before stepping towards the grand tub on the other side of the room. Grand because the damn thing has three white steps leading up to it and it's at least as big as our king-sized bed in the other room.

The soothing sound of running water fills the air, mixing with the sweet aroma of vanilla and the view of Baekhyun leaning over the tub. His back muscles flexing alluringly, black belt tugging perfectly on his hips.

I look away, covering my red face with a muffled giggle, tugging at the collar of my shirt. Just what has this man done to me?

"What?" He glances over his shoulder, an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Nothing." Hiding my smile is nearly impossible until it falls off my face entirely in wake of him running a wet hand through his silver hair. The soft strands pushed off his gorgeous forehead with those dancing brown eyes of his watching me. I'm not blushing, I swear it's the humidity in the room.

He steps back over to me with antagonizing slow strides, his hands resting comfortably on my waist. "May I?" He murmurs, sliding them down to take hold of the hem of my turtleneck. The warmth of them somehow manages to seep through the thick fabric of my shirt.

I can only gulp, nodding meekly as he smiles, pulling the soft material over my head. The way his eyes drift over my tank top makes my cheeks warm—even more so when he rids me of it without hesitation.

"I should consider underwear," He mutters distractedly, one hand swiping under the edge of my bra while the other slides warmly up my back.

"You wanna compete with them too?" I arch a brow, leaning into his touch.

"No," He shakes his head, wrapping his arm around my waist, lifting those brown eyes back up to meet mine. "I want to see you with my name."

I can't help but snort despite my racing heart, giving him a disbelieving look. "You'd make a whole clothing line just for me to wear?" My amused grin falters at his serious nod. "I wouldn't be the only one wearing them, Baekhyun."

He hums, leisurely peppering kisses to the exposed skin of my chest. Goosebumps rise under his gentle caress as he pulls off my bra, quietly muttering, "You're the only one that matters."

There's no hiding my quickening heartbeat with his lips pressed so firmly to my skin; his brief smile not helping the state of my flushing cheeks at all. Just as I part my lips, my breath hitches—words forgotten with his hands trying to slip under the waistband of my thick leggings. I tsk, lightly smacking them away. "Yours first, mister."

"Mmm." He smiles, his palms sliding down my thighs. He's got that look in his eyes again that tells of unspoken mischief. "I kinda like the sound of that-"

"Never in a million years, Byun."

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over my cheek. "Remember last time? When you just-"

"Baekhyun!" My hand clapping over his mouth does nothing to muffle his contagious laughter. I can only shake my head, reaching to unzip and pop the button of his jeans. He gets quiet as I push them down to his calves. "Don't give me that look," I mutter, running my hands over his back, already well aware of the barely concealed problem he has.

"Why?" He murmurs, seeming to be content with painting me in gentle pink hues with his soft lips.

"You're staring."

Baekhyun chuckles, lifting his head, meeting my eyes with his twinkling ones. "I love admiring art."

"Oh, so I'm an object now?" I arch a brow, leaning back on my palms braced against the countertop.

"No." He shakes his head, brown eyes still focused on mine, long strands of silver hair cascading down his forehead. "You're the source," He pauses, smiling almost shyly, "Of my love and affection."

I'm ignoring the urge to coo at his reddening ears, merely planting a kiss on his cheek before wiggling out of my pants and carefully sliding off the counter. I collect our scattered clothes from the floor, tossing them into the wash basket a few feet away, curiously venturing over to the tub. Funny how we haven't used it since I moved in with him months ago. Then again, dating a CEO or not, I still think it is a waste of water just to fill up half of this thing, let alone what kind of water bills come with turning on the internal jacuzzi mode that will set the water into motion. But tonight is a special occasion.

No need for fancy anything—well, excluding the expensive bathtub—just being by his side is one of the most rewarding feelings in the world.

The steam rising from the still water makes my face feel dewy and refreshed. Coaxing me to dip into its heated depths. I gather my hair up into a bun, reaching for my hair-tie only to find out that it isn't on either of my wrists.

"Ah—do you need one?" Baekhyun mumbles, pausing mid-stride, pink lips pouting as he ruffles his silver hair.

Smiling adoringly, I make my way back to him with a shake of my head, grabbing his wrist. "No, it's fine."

"But-"

"It's alright, Baekhyun." Noticing the uncertainty playing on his features, I giggle. "It's not going to melt off, you know?"

He still has a furrow between his brows.

Fighting my smile, I shrug after a few moments, scrunching my nose, "My hair just gets a bit puffy—but." Holding my hand up at the sight of his dancing orbs, I narrow my eyes, muttering, "If my head ends up underwater, we are going to have a problem."

"Alright," He nods, lips curled up in a sheepish smile. "I can work with that."

I smile softly, taking a deep breath as he steps closer; heart palpitating when his familiar scent hits my nose, mixing with the aroma of vanilla permeating the air. His wet hair flops over his forehead in the most endearing of ways, outlining the cute droop of his eyes and his brown irises lit with the flickering candle flames. I doubt I will ever find a more comforting place than the shelter of his strong arms, fully content with melting into the security of his honey-toned skin.

"The water's getting cold," I blurt, muffled in the safety of his shoulder.

Baekhyun laughs, briefly dipping his hand into the water. We strip off the rest of our clothes and slip into its pleasantly warm depths.

'Wow,' I mouth, settling against the far side of the tub, relaxing under the water comfortably lapping at my shoulders.

"Nice, hmm?"

"Nice!?" My eyes drift to him as he moves closer. "Dude, I could spend an entire lifetime here if I wouldn't shrivel up like a prune."

I catch a glimpse of his sugar-sweet smile before he moves to sit behind me, pulling me close until my back is resting on his chest. Relaxing completely against him, all tension seems to leave my body, only a sense of warmth and security fills my being.

This kind of closeness—this intimacy—is something I'm definitely up for getting used to. The steady beating of his heart, the soft puffs of his every breath... It makes me inwardly scold myself for not doing this with him sooner. But when I stop to think about it…

I shoot down the thought quickly, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. The past is in the past. It shouldn't define the present, nor should I think about it. No matter how painful it is, I rather focus on Baekhyun's fingers gently playing with the ends of my hair instead of getting lost in the reminders of why my chest aches from time to time. The unanswered questions and concerns that easily plague my mind if I'm not careful enough.

I'm brought back to the calming waters of the tub by the feeling of Baekhyun's hand sliding down my stomach. "What are you doing?" I grumble, peeking an eye open.

"Appreciating," He murmurs with a small smile, wet strands of his hair tickling my ear as he plants a kiss on my shoulder. "I want to wash your hair. May I?"

Both my eyes flutter open with a quiet hum, a lazy smile forming on my lips. "Only if I can too," I propose, peeking over my shoulder at him. The view of his slender neck bared while his head rests against the back of the tub with water lapping at his chest is damn near intoxicating. Like what the hell, I swear this man grows finer by the day—or maybe I'm just a sucker for him... At this point, it's probably a mixer of both. Possibilities are endless when it comes to being in love—especially the cringe-worthy ones.

Baekhyun hums, brown eyes shimmering brightly as I turn around to face him, resting my palms on his lean abdomen for stability. "I'd love that," He murmurs, arms wrapping around my waist.

I shoot him another sweet smile, reaching to grab his shampoo bottle left on the edge of the tub. An all-too-familiar citrus scent wafts into the air when I open it. Squeezing a bit in my palm, I rub my hands together. "Close your eyes—just in case," I mumble sheepishly. I'm not about to risk him getting soap in his eyes tonight. Between his luck and my clumsiness, we must take all precautions.

Baekhyun chuckles, his eyes fluttering shut as I carefully run my hands through his hair, shifting into a comfortable position on his lap. He rubs soothing circles on my back, making me smile shyly, treating his soft strands with care.

"Your roots are showing," I note, gently ruffling his silver locks.

"I know." He tsks, cracking an eye open. "I'll get it done in a few days. When inventory calms down."

Humming, I swipe away shampoo drifting down his forehead, looking into his eyes sternly. "Enough of that. Less talking, more washing."

Soft laughter rumbles in his chest. "Yes ma'am," He mumbles, brown orbs shining in amusement, shutting his eyes again.

I massage the shampoo into his scalp, thoroughly covering the hair at the nape of his neck, pausing at the soft peck he presses to my lips. My cheeks burst into flames, "Lay back for me?"

"Oh?" He peeks, soapy suds sliding down his jaw. "This isn't what I was expecting, but I'm not complaining," He murmurs, smirking.

"Baekhyun!"

He's full-on laughing, causing the water to ripple around us. I shake my head, smiling a little, shielding his forehead and scooping up water to rinse his hair.

"Almost done," I mumble distractedly, my gaze drifting over his handsome features in the meantime. There's nothing like seeing a peaceful expression form on his face, or being the one to help him relax after a tiring day. Witnessing the way his stern eyes soften into the purest brown pools of love makes me feel like a criminal. "There."

"Thank you, baby." He hums, eyelashes brushing his cute cheeks before his sparkly brown orbs focus on me. He leans up for a sweet kiss that washes my every worry away, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form on my skin. "Your turn."

I don't even try hiding my smile, relaxing at the rare feeling of his hands carding through my hair. Something about the gentle way he does it makes me giggle, giddiness bubbling in my chest.

"What's so funny, hmm?" He murmurs, biting my ear.

"Baek!" I squeal, nearly opening my eyes as he chuckles, pressing a ticklish smooch to my neck.

Stealing a peek at him, I could melt at the adorable concentrated look on his face. Moments like these remind me how much I love this man. His every habit and cute mannerisms. Even on days when we've had enough of each other, where we teeter close to the edge of a breakup, I rather try a thousand times with him than start over with someone else. Stubborn personality and all, no pride of mine outweighs my never-ending love for him.

Nothing compares to how much I would do for him. Rain, sleet, or snow, I'll be there—and knowing he'd do the same, that he feels the same—is the greatest feeling imaginable.

"Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" He lifts his head from the edge of the tub, holding me close to his beating heart, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his gaze and the familiarity of his palm cupping my cheek send my adoration to new heights.

Taking my time to gaze over his features, I map every soft slope, every stunning curve, every unique freckle of his skin to memory. The little imperfections that make him even more perfect to me, reminders of why I haven't given up completely on humanity. I could spend forever with you. "I love you."

His beaming smile is the most heart-fluttering gesture in the world. "I love you too."

The sizzling of meat and the mouth-watering aroma of seasoned beef fills the air, popping to the tempo of my anxious heart. I blow away annoying strands of hair dangling in my eyes, painstakingly swirling the steadily cooking, thinly sliced marinated strips around the pan. Monitoring the rice cooker on the other side of the stove while being mindful of the glass plates neatly set out on the counter. I'm grateful that this recipe is as simple as the online articles have stated, who knows what kind of disastrous mess the kitchen would be in by now if it were any more difficult on this Friday night. 8 straight hours of back and forth with a picky, opinionated novelist has left me ravenous, I can't imagine what Baekhyun must be feeling.

The familiar sound of the security code being typed in is audible over the quiet atmosphere, bringing a smile to my lips as the front door opens.

"Honey," That honey-filled voice chimes, beautiful even with the tiredness in his soothing timbre. "I'm home-"

I carefully slide the food out of the pan, giving his plate the bigger portion, glancing over my shoulder at him while trying a piece of meat. He's just standing there in the middle of the room with parted lips, his white dress shirt straining against his chest and black blazer hanging off his biceps.

"Welcome home, Baekhyunee," I murmur, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

He hangs up his coat and blazer with an acknowledging hum, neatly placing his dress shoes on the shoe rack before slipping into his black house slippers, entering the kitchen with quick resounding footsteps.

My eyes flicker over to the beeping rice cooker as I finish emptying the meat from the pan, barely taking two steps before he's wrapping his arms around my waist. "You're home early."

"That I am," He muses, pressing a kiss to my hairline, strong arms tightening around me. "What's all this?"

"...Do you not recognize Bulgogi?" I frown, giving him the side-eye while scooping rice out of the cooker, smiling at the result. It's not overdone or undercooked. Perfect. "—Wait, is it that unrecognizable? Did I fuck-" I gasp, disoriented from being spun around so quickly.

Baekhyun chuckles, brown eyes twinkling in awe as he smiles down at me. "You didn't, baby." His thumb brushes over my lips, dexterous fingers curling stubborn strands of hair behind my ear. "I'm just surprised is all. What's the occasion?"

"Well..." I mumble, spooning a piece of meat on top of some rice. "I'm tired of getting takeout all the time. We may be busy, but I'll be damned if we buy food that we can cook in mere minutes like what's the point? When we can just-" My eyes flutter close, heart rate exhilarating at the feeling of his soft pillows pressed to mine.

"Let's cook more often," He proposes with a smile, leaning down to take a bite of the spoonful of food held in my frozen hand. Not even two seconds go by before his eyes widen.

"What?" My eyes enlarge the longer he's quiet; he's chewing so nonchalantly I have the urge to run away in a burst of panic.

"It's amazing," He mumbles after a few minutes, eyes sparkling so brightly while gazing at me, planting a kiss on my nose. "I love it."

"You…" I blink a few times, lightly smacking his arm. "You jerk!"

Baekhyun just laughs, pulling me further into his warm embrace. Brown eyes forming cute crescent moons.

"I thought you didn't like it," I mumble, slumping in defeat, unmistakable warmth rising on my cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I?" He murmurs, planting a kiss on top of my head. The tiredness from a long day of work only amplifying the sexy rasp of his voice. "Even if you burnt it to a crisp, I'd compliment you."

I scoff with a racing heart, stepping out of his hold, "That's not very honest."

"Mmhm, but-" He chuckles softly, taking me by the hand and spinning me back around, love shining in those deep brown orbs of his. He's breathtaking under the dim overhead light of the stove that will need to be replaced soon. The faint glow and coupling shadows cast over his features in a captivating way, making him appear older and reformed yet reflecting the youthful emotions in his eyes all the same. His silver hair is blinding under the reflective light; surprisingly the least bit ruffled in its state over his forehead. How someone can look so stunning after working all day will always astonish me, but that's just him.

"I'm honestly in love with you," Baekhyun utters in a heart-quaking hush as if sharing a secret, setting my cheeks aflame. "—And your cooking. Holy shit, what did you put in this?"

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, resting my hand on his bicep, "It's a secret~"

"A secret, huh?" Baekhyun muses, arching a brow, fighting a smile. He briefly glances down at my mouth at that moment, licking his lips before leaning in.

"Ah-" I take a step back just as his soft pillows brush against mine, bracing my hand on his firm chest when he steps closer. "Don't you dare."

"What?" He mumbles, meeting my eyes, pink lips jutted out in the tiniest pout.

Shifting my gaze away from the unfairly adorable sight, I mutter, "I spent all afternoon marinating that meat. You better not let it get cold."

"I'm hungry for something else at the moment," He murmurs lowly, biting his lip. Just those words alone from his sinful mouth make my insides quiver. I clear my throat, trying my best to keep a flush from reappearing on my face as he runs a hand through his silver hair, giving me those darkening brown eyes.

Spotting a magazine out of the corner of my eye, I grab it just as he's leaning in again, promptly smacking his arm. "Dessert comes after dinner—if," I breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, "you're lucky."

"May luck be on my side then..." He hums thoughtfully, swiping his thumb over his lips; slender fingers softly squeezing my waist. His dark brown orbs lift back up to mine, eyeing me intensely for a long minute. My cheeks redden at the implications.

Baekhyun finally shifts his attention back to the steaming plates. "I'll handle these. Go sit down."

"I-"

He turns those dark brown eyes onto me again, the mischievous promises swirling within them enough to weaken my knees. I spin around on my heel without another word, hurrying to the dining table. He brings both the plates over, setting them down on the winter-themed table mats placed in front of our designated seats. We prefer sitting next to each other when having meals together at home—some nights spent with my right hand being held securely in his left one.

Baekhyun slides into his chair just as I pick up a pair of chopsticks, the faint scent of his cologne tickles my nose. Would it be silly to say that the room seems to warm up whenever he is around? He's like a little source of comfort and warmth, relaxing me in any situation. It doesn't matter where I am; if he is there, I'll know I'm safe, that everything's going to be alright.

"Say ah," Baekhyun's melodic voice rings, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I pause mid-bite, glancing over at him. He continues to hold up a piece of meat despite my incredulous stare, "Really?"

He just smiles sweetly, patiently waiting, his bright brown eyes sparkling when I take the offered food with a playfully annoyed sigh.

"I missed you today," He murmurs warmly, pointedly staring down at his plate. My heart nearly jumps out my chest at the sweetness. I bite my lips to fight back a smile, holding back a giggle. It's always heartwarming to know that even after all this time, I'm not the only one bursting at the seams with my love for him. He's so fucking adorable.

"I missed you too," I mutter, kissing his rosy cheek before shifting my attention back to my food. "Eat up, you've had a long day."

"Oh baby, you have no idea." He groans. The familiar sound of metal cutlery clinking against glass dishes fills the room.

"Wanna share?" I inquire, resting my chin on my palm, carefully picking up a few pieces of beef and rice. I gaze intently at him with an encouraging smile.

"I've had three meetings since the afternoon," He grumbles, a tired smile briefly tugging at his lips. "Someone kept messing up the orders and a truckload of the material conveniently ended up shipped to the wrong facility."

"Conveniently?" My gaze flickers to his glass of water on the table, dangerously close to the edge. I move it closer to the center of the table mat, eyes widening slightly at the clench of his jaw. His eyes are full of that stern businessman gleam he only gets when he's restraining the urge to go off on a subordinate.

"Mmm." His body is rigid despite his calm tone, voice deeper than usual, "I swear that they are out to get on my nerves." He speaks slowly as if containing his anger. "We've been at this for years, why haven't they got their shit together yet?"

"Did you get the shipment?" My voice is soft as I tentatively rest my head on his shoulder, stroking his arm.

Baekhyun hums, relaxing a little, resting his head on top of mine. "It's frustrating." He sighs.

"Good thing you're the boss then," I chirp, peeking at him, cheekily adding, "You can yell at them and you won't get fired."

Thankfully, my words make him laugh, breaking the tension in his broad shoulders. The joyous sound rumbles his chest and echoes off of the walls.

"Shh!" I whisper, softly covering his mouth, making a show of looking around. "Yah, don't wake the neighbors. They might think I'm watching questionable comedy again."

Baekhyun only laughs harder, pressing a kiss to my palm before taking my hand into his own, his brown orbs lit up in amusement. "That movie was a wild ride."

"Literally," I agree, raising my brows to broaden his smile. "How much longer do you have to work these long hours?" My tone comes out whiner than intended, but I just hide my face in his neck, basking in his comforting scent.

"A few more days," He mumbles, kissing my head, gently tangling his fingers in my hair. "Why? Do you miss me?" He teases, curling a strand around his finger.

My heart downright quivers. "Nah, I'm just curious—of course, I miss you!" I retort, scoffing, shooting him a look. "12-hour shifts are too much. You're gonna start getting gray hair for real."

"Just until Thursday, baby." He murmurs, chuckling at my doubtful expression, tucking hair behind my ear, and cupping my cheek in his warm palm. "Two more days and then I'm all yours."

"Are you sure about that?" Muttering under my breath, I get lost in the mocha brown of his eyes, my own fluttering shut at the light kiss he presses to my lips.

"Mmm as sure as I am about loving you," He smiles, caressing my cheek with his thumb, gazing adoringly into my eyes.

If I was standing, I'm positive I would have stumbled over my feet by now. I swear this man and his affection will make me melt into a damn puddle one day—possibly today at this rate.

The loud buzz of a phone goes off in the room. Heavy vibrations come from the left pocket of Baekhyun's black slacks, warmly pressed against my thigh. He pulls it out without breaking eye contact, but the sight of a child out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. My heart quickly sinks at the realization that…

This kid looks just like the man next to me.

"Hello?" Baekhyun hums, closing his eyes, a peaceful expression forming on his features until they snap back open. "What did you say?" He breathes, straightening up, face going pale the longer the person's muffled speech filters through the phone.

My eyes shift back and forth between him and the blank screen of his phone, the image of that child still circling around my mind. Who is he? Why is there a picture of a child that resembles him so much on his phone?

Baekhyun and I never really talked about his family, despite him meeting mine. I just assumed that it was a touchy topic or something, so I never—

"I can't—I can't," He grits out, abruptly leaning away from me, knuckles white from his tight grip on the device. He roughly runs a hand through his hair, growing more agitated by the second. "My schedule is packed for the next two weeks. I won't be able to..." He goes quiet, listening as his brown eyes drift over to mine. The nearly blank look in them makes my heart race, and not in a good way.

"I understand," He mutters, ending the call.

The silence that stretches out in the space between us while he re-pockets his phone is unbearable. Even more so with the way he seems to avoid my eye, crossing his arms over his heaving chest; a faraway look within his dimmed brown orbs.

It takes a few deep breaths for me to dare to say anything, reaching out towards him only to lower my hand back to my lap, curling it into a fist. "...Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps up, blinking a few times before meeting my gaze. The unfamiliar daze in his tired eyes is worrisome, "Yeah, baby?"

"That…" I bite the inside of my cheek, not sure how to go about the question I'm dying to ask. Baekhyun rarely gets like this—he gets angry, yes, but to reach this extent of...rage? I only recall witnessing it last fall when I had my phone off all night, and that one time I almost sliced off my thumb while trying to peel potatoes. Multiple chirps of his phone has my eyes darting back down to his pocket.

Baekhyun follows my line of sight, realization dawning on his features. "Ah..." He nods, adam's apple bobbing in his throat, smiling a little before reaching out for me. "Sorry about that, my love."

"Who was that?" I try my best not to seem stiff when he pulls me into his arms, but by the way his smile falls off his face, he already knows.

"My brother," He mumbles, pressing kisses to my forehead, gathering me closer despite the protesting squeak of our chairs.

"And the kid?" I look at him dead in the eye, leaning back regardless of the frown forming on his face.

"Hmm?" He tilts his head for a moment, brown eyes soon widening. "Oh! That." His sheepish smile is borderline guilty as he ruffles his hair, uttering quietly, "That's my nephew. Isn't he adorable?"

Nodding slowly, I hum, turning to poke aimlessly at my cold food. "Looks just like you."

Baekhyun's arm tenses up under my hand. He pulls the phone back out of his pocket. "You mean his father. See?" After a few swipes of his finger, he holds it up; the device displays an image of the little kid and an older-looking version of Baekhyun. "Baekbeom and I got confused a lot growing up."

Uh-huh... My heart squeezes uncomfortably in my chest as I twirl a chopstick around my plate. "Why do you never talk about them?" I whisper, taking a peek at him.

"Why don't you ever ask?" He shrugs, lips twitching—an almost annoyed tone in his voice.

"O-Oh well..." The painful throb in my chest is immediate. I grit my teeth, lowering my head and pushing away from the table. "I'll go wash the dishes-"

"No—wait." Baekhyun grabs my wrist, gently pulling me to him. "Come here." He whispers, wide eyes flickering all over my person.

"The chair's gonna break," I mutter, avoiding his eye, reluctantly sitting on the edge of his lap.

"Shh—baby." His voice has taken on that soft comforting timbre he reserves for dreary nights and hushed calls between meetings. His strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me further into his warmth. "Look at me, please?" He tucks a finger under my chin, coaxing me to face him.

Shaking my head, I keep my eyes down on my hands, fully content with examining the state of my chipped nail polish instead.

Baekhyun sighs after a while. "I'm sorry," He mumbles, hugging me to his chest, nuzzling his nose into my hair. "I had a long day and shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"And I cooked for you." I huff quietly, crossing my arms. "Next time I'm making food for myself. You can stick to your precious takeout."

"No," He whines, hiding further in my hair. "I want your food. Your cooking is the best."

"You only had one meal." I roll my eyes.

"And I want them all." He pulls back, cupping my cheek in his hand, staring deep into my eyes. "I want all of you."

There's no holding back the smile that automatically forms on my face, but his words do nothing to ease the lump in my throat or the burn of his actions. No amount of butterflies in my stomach can hide the fact that... there are parts of Baekhyun's life that he refuses to share with me. But there's no point in getting upset over something I've known for over a year, is it?

Baekhyun peeks over at me mid-bite. "What?"

"Nothing," I murmur, breaking out of my daze, mustering up a smile. Gently wiping away a grain of rice from the corner of his lips. "You're just so cute, I bet you were adorable as a kid."

"Mmhm." He nods nonchalantly, though his reddening cheeks are a dead giveaway. "Our kids will be lucky."

I splutter, damn near dropping the glass in my hand. "Baek!" My light slap on his chest does nothing to disturb his laughter. "Stop playing, I'm still upset."

His chuckles evaporate in an instant. "I'm not." The serious tone of his voice mirrors the determination in his eyes. "I mean it."

My eyes widen, "Oh..."

"Do you ever think about it?" Baekhyun's voice barely reaches a whisper, he meets my eyes with a bashful expression before looking away. "Having kids, I mean."

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" He breathes, wide brown eyes focused on me. The utterly surprised look on his face is refreshing to say the least.

I nod, choosing my words carefully, "I wouldn't mind 2, 3, 4 mini me's."

"Four!?" The chair creaks as he leans back in astonishment. If his eyes were wide before, they are the size of saucers now. "Are you mad, woman?"

"No! I just-" It's hard to formulate words with his fingers mercilessly tickling my sides. "Stop." I groan, laughing, batting his hands away. "Can't I dream about having a bunch of cute kids?" I shrug, looking away. "I dream big, so what?"

"Nothing." He smiles, bright orbs dancing, softly squeezing my waist. "Keep dreaming, baby."

"Mmhm." Relaxing against him, I wrap my arm around his neck, giving him a look. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me." His widening smile is contagious, I just want to kiss it off of him. "How many kids you want?" I murmur, picking lint off of his dress shirt, peeking under my eyelashes at him. He stays quiet as I gently curl his hair around my finger, "Go on. Spill."

"Doesn't matter," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to my palm, picking up his chopsticks again.

"Really?" I arch a brow, not the least bit convinced. "Are you sure? I bet you want two."

"Nope." The word comes out muffled around the cheek-full of food in his mouth. Even his audible chewing is adorable and attractive.

I scoff in disbelief, smiling a little with a tilt of my head, resting it on his shoulder. "How many do you want then?"

"Doesn't matter the number or gender," He shakes his head, neatly setting his chopsticks down on his empty plate. "I just want them." He peeks at me, "With you."

My brows raise in surprise. "Thinking ahead, are we?"

He shrugs, a smile quirking at his lips. "I like being prepared."

"You know life is unpredictable, right?" I mutter, narrowing my eyes at his cheeky expression.

Baekhyun smiles sweetly, pulling the collar of my oversized shirt off my shoulder, brushing his lips over my skin. "Then I hope life predicts me with you."

It takes everything in me to hold in a gasp, tangling my fingers further in his silver locks. "What are you up to now?"

"Making it up to you." He leaves a trail of soft smooches up to my collarbone, nibbling at the sensitive skin, gently digging his fingers further into the swell of my waist.

"Making it up..." I mumble, melting into him, resting my hand over his heart. "How exactly?"

"Well." He pulls back with a tiny grin, biting his lip, pure mischief swirling within his sparkling eyes. "There are many ways my mouth can apologize..."

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: What is Baekhyun up to now? I swear he grows more complex by the day. Do I write the fic or does the fic write itself? (>.<) let’s not talk about the filth that leaves his mouth (<.<) *coughs* 😳🔥🌹 onto part 2 we go~

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #Six Phases

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enterprisetrampstamp · 4 years ago

Note

General #42 t'pura plssss <3

I have written so many "bustling marketplaces" lately. I think it's projection; deep in my subconscious my ideal self is at a weird little booth on King St in Charleston poking through sterling silver jewelry and touching the pavement every thirty seconds to make sure the dogs' paws are okay.

(AO3 Link)

***

The market was bustling and vibrant, a cacophony of sounds and sights and scents as vendors hawked their wares and the savvy populace argued back. The streets were wider and less claustrophobic than Nyota was used to, the sky above lit brightly by pale binary suns instead of the singular pulse of Sol, but it still put her in mind of the market her family had frequented when she was younger. For their everyday needs, her parents had shopped at the usual grocery stores and department stores and corner markets among the glittering skyscrapers and bustling streets of Nairobi, but once a month her mother would pack Nyota and her sisters into the car and take them down to the open air market that sprawled across several city blocks on the outskirts of the city, where fresher produce and more unique items could be found.

Besides, it was fun.

Nyota and her sisters would buy fruity popsicles and play tag; as they grew older, they might haggle over jewelry and scarves and that perfect trinket for their father's birthday or a sister's graduation. Her fascination with language could be traced back to those afternoons in the market as much as anything else, listening to hundreds of voices arguing in nearly as many dialects-- Swahili, English, and Standard, of course, but Dholuo and Kamba and Somali and the voices of all of Kenya's other indigenous peoples, too. Hundreds of voices, loud and unapologetic and alive as they pushed and shoved their way through life. Nyota had had her first date at that market, with a boy who lived down the hall-- and, later, she'd shared her first kiss there... with his older sister.

Oops.

Nyota grinned at the memory, hitching her bag higher into the crook of her elbow, and trailed her hand through a selection of beautifully intricate scarves hanging from a delicate display made of thin, curving pieces of brass. Janice's birthday was coming up, she noted thoughtfully. The bright purple one was very much the yeoman's speed, embroidered with silver thread in a dizzying geometric pattern. She pulled it from the rack, running it thoughtfully between her fingers as the sun-- the suns, she corrected herself with a snort-- beat down on the back of her neck.

"This one will better highlight the undertones of your skin," a woman said, her voice light and warm and catching on the soft Standard consonants.

It was the accent that caught Nyota's attention; that unmistakable curl of a native Vulcan speaker in the way she pronounced the thorn at the start of "this." She looked up as the woman draped a scarf-- silky and deep red, decorated in a delicate swirl of tiny golden beads-- about Nyota's neck and trailed one end back over her shoulder, her long, gloved fingers carefully avoiding the brush of bare skin.

(Somehow, that half-centimeter's implication of a touch was more sensual than if she'd truly trailed her fingertips along the line of Nyota's shoulder.)

"It's beautiful," Nyota agreed honestly, because it was. She raked her gaze over her new friend, resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow. The Vulcan woman was tall, dressed in a romper with loose, flowing pants that tapered back to her ankles to tuck into simple leather (faux, presumably) boots and a stiff vest that shimmered subtly beneath the sunlight, reaching high up her throat but leaving her lightly freckled shoulders bare. All of it, from head to toe and including her gloves, was rendered in a deep, eyecatching purple. Her hair was braided simply and fell heavily over her right shoulder, thick and so darkly black that the sunlight turned it faintly blue. The leather tie at its end was that same, vibrant purple.

(A cosmopolitan Vulcan woman, Nyota supposed. It was a far cry from the robes and elaborate hairstyles Nyota was used to seeing, but then she usually saw the diplomats and the Council members-- women dressed formally and in pointed representation of their culture.)

"But," Nyota added, placing a delicate emphasis on the word as she unwound the scarf and returned it to its place on the rack, "I'm not shopping for myself."

"Pity," the woman said, her dark eyes likewise sweeping over Nyota. (She, for the record, was dressed comparatively simply in a blue dress and ankle boots.) "It did look good on you."

Nyota leaned towards her as if confessing a secret, a smile pulling teasingly at one corner of her lips. "Everything looks good on me." One slanted eyebrow twitched high on the Vulcan's forehead, and Nyota laughed, straightening, and lifted her hand in the ta'al. "Dif-tor heh smusma, my new friend."

"Peace and long life," the woman returned in Standard, flashing her own-- purple gloved-- ta'al and lifting her other eyebrow to join the first. "Your accent is very good."

"Well, if it wasn't I'd probably be out of a job," Nyota replied easily. She watched the Vulcan in her periphery as she decided against the purple scarf for Janice-- the yeoman could be finicky about clothing and would probably rather Nyota pick her up some tourist-y magnet that would be wildly embarrassing to have to purchase-- and debated an emerald green for Christine instead. (Her birthday wasn't coming up, but it never hurt to be thinking ahead.)

"You are employed as a translator?" the Vulcan guessed, picking at the scarves herself. The motion seemed less like she was interested in them, and more as if it was an excuse to keep talking to Nyota.

"Sometimes." Chris would love it, she decided. She half-turned towards the vendor, lifting the scarf, and had started to ask "How much--?" when she caught a glimpse of the scarf that had been hidden underneath it. With a laugh, she traded the green scarf for the new one and turned back to the Vulcan, holding it up consideringly.

"It's your favorite color," she said, too many teeth in her grin.

"Having a preference for a particular color would be illogical," the Vulcan returned archly, but there was something in her voice, some teasing irreverence hiding beneath the lack of inflection, as she plucked the scarf from Nyota's hand and held it against her chest to compare the shades of purple.

"Too red," she said, her gaze flicking up to meet Nyota's as she raised an eyebrow.

Nyota scoffed. "Oh, please."

A tiny, almost imperceptible corner of the woman's mouth twitched in a smirk. "Your disbelief will not change the fact that the scarf is too red."

"Those Vulcan eyes of yours must be missing some rods and cones. It's a perfect match," Nyota insisted, reaching out to drape the scarf about the woman's shoulders-- the motion pulled them close, each of her hands wrapped loosely in silky fabric, and she smirked up at the Vulcan as she took another, deliberate step forward.

"Are you flirting with me?" the Vulcan asked, amusement smoldering in her dark eyes. They stood so near that, had they each taken a deep breath in, Nyota's hands would be trapped between them.

"You started it," Nyota pointed out, teasing, as she unwound her hands from the scarf. "And I'm feeling nostalgic this morning," she declared, fondness curving her lips into a smile, "for a different dark haired beauty I flirted with in a market not so different from this one, once upon a time."

"Vulcans do not flirt."

Nyota's grin spread wider. "Now that I know from experience is a lie."

"Vulcans do not lie either," the woman said, and there was that self-aware edge of irony once again-- Nyota didn't even feel like she was insulting her when she tipped her head back and laughed.

"Oh, sure," she said, flashing a few credits at the vendor and receiving a word of confirmation as she plucked the green scarf back off of the rack. "Vulcans don't lie, as a generality." She handed the credits to the vendor, glancing over her shoulder to add, tartly, "That doesn't mean they can't, or that Vulcans in the individual won't."

There was that little twitch of a smirk again.

"A wise woman," the Vulcan observed, falling into step next to her as she tucked Christine's present into her bag and walked away from the booth. "I hope, when you are not engaged as a translator, that you make use of your skills as a counselor-- or perhaps a bartender."

Nyota barked another laugh, shooting her a grin. "I do mix a mean martini," she agreed.

"Metaphors," the Vulcan sighed. She spread her hands in a shrug, the movement loose and fluid. "I have never understood what qualifies a drink as 'mean.'"

"Usually it's because it insulted your mother," Nyota told her, straight-faced, and was rewarded with a rise and fall of the Vulcan's chest that she chose to interpret as a silent sigh of exasperation.

"So what do you do?" Nyota asked, as she paused to peer at a display of sterling silver jewelry, bedazzled with a variety of inexpensive-- but beautiful-- gemstones, most of them imported from the other side of the galaxy. Spock probably could have told her exactly where with a single glance, and the thought made a smile tug at the corner of her lips. Her hair slipped over her shoulder, falling in a soft brown wave, and she reached up to brush it back as she looked.

The Vulcan spun a rack of earrings, sharp enough to make it rattle, and the artisan behind the booth barked out a remonstration in her own native tongue. Then, she repeated it under her breath in Vulcan-- pointedly, loud enough for both Nyota and the Vulcan to hear it-- as she returned to her soldering.

With a slow blink, like a cat reaching out to shove a mug off of a coffee table, the Vulcan spun the rack a second time. "I am employed as a record keeper aboard a small civilian spacecraft," she said, staring down the scowling artisan.

Nyota looked up, her interest piqued. "You mean you live out here in the black?" she asked, surprise sharpening her tone. So few Vulcans lived or even worked away from New Vulcan for any extensive period these days, in deference to their ongoing efforts of cultural revival.

She hadn't realized quite how open the woman's expression was-- for a Vulcan-- until it shuttered. "I do," she said, neither her tone nor her body language inviting further questions.

Nyota thought of the way Spock still, all these years later, could not think of New Vulcan as anything more than a pale imitation of a home he would never replace, and she gently eased off. It had been an intrusive line of questioning, anyway.

"What do you think?" she asked instead, pointing to a necklace with a delicate silver charm with a soft pink stone at its center.

The Vulcan leaned closer, her shoulder pressing against Nyota's, warm and solidly muscled. Her hair smelled faintly of orange blossoms and incense, and there was a hint of that prior teasing tone in her voice as she observed, "I have been told that everything looks good on you."

Nyota smiled, turning to look at her. "And how," she agreed. "But I told you, I'm not shopping for me."

"Of course." The Vulcan looked over as well, her dark eyes studying her with a heady intensity and the strong curve of her nose nearly brushing Nyota's. "May I?" she asked, and the slight tilt of her head, the imperceptible lean forward indicated the meaning of the question.

The artisan made an inarticulate noise of fury, but they both ignored her.

"I don't even know your name," Nyota teased, even as she closed the distance between them to press a featherlight kiss to the other woman's lips.

(Oh, don't look at her like that; like you wouldn't kiss the mysterious, clever stranger who's been flirting with you all morning. There was something a little fun and a little daring about it, and in a few hours she'd say goodbye and head back to the ship. Maybe they'd exchange comm frequencies; maybe not. They call them whirlwind romances for a reason, you know.)

"T'Pring," the Vulcan murmured, their lips still brushing.

"Nyota." She returned to the array of jewelry, a crooked grin turning up one corner of her lips. "Dated humans before, have you? That was no first kiss, darling."

"Well, there are just so many of you," T'Pring returned, with that remarkable Vulcan ability to both maintain perfect stoicism and also come across dryly sarcastic. "And you have dated a Vulcan before, have you not? Your ability to maintain a mental shield against touch telepathy is impressive for a human." A beat. "'Darling.'"

Nyota barked a laugh. "Yes, I have." She patted T'Pring's cheek, winking. "Don't worry; you're prettier than he is."

T'Pring raised one slanted eyebrow, conveying amusement without ostensibly altering her expression. "I find myself much assured."

Nyota caught her wrist-- careful to stay below the edge of her glove, avoiding skin-to-skin contact so she wouldn't need to maintain that mental shield-- to tug her back into motion. "Lunch," she suggested.

T'Pring allowed herself to be pulled along in Nyota's wake without complaint. "One of my crewmates tells me there is a bakery with excellent savory pastries on the next street over."

"Mm, I heard about that place, too." Her smile was pleased as she looked over her shoulder at T'Pring. One of Hikaru's husband's friends had raved about it; the whole bridge crew had been looking forward to it for weeks.

"A satisfactory choice, then?" T'Pring asked, with a raised eyebrow, and Nyota laughed.

"Most satisfactory," she agreed, tone teasing.

Once their pastries were in hand-- a spicy, aromatic beef filling in Nyota's, and a potato and vegetable one in T'Pring's-- they ignored the tables arranged outside of the bakery in favor of tucking themselves into a semi-private alcove. Nyota hopped up onto the low stone wall separating an earthy, plant-filled garden space from the rest of the market, and T'Pring propped her hip against it. She removed one of her gloves, tucking it into a pocket of her pants, and picked thoughtfully at the pastry with dark-eyed curiosity.

"Reminds me of an empanada," Nyota said, inhaling the fragrant steam rising off of her choice, and T'Pring huffed, ever so slightly.

"'The closest you will get to decent food in this corner of the galaxy,'" she said, pitching her voice to a deeper octave in a way which implied it was an impression. "My crewmate hails from Chile," she added, as an explanation. "As the pilot of our ship, I do not believe he intended to allow us to skip this planet once our path turned us in this direction, regardless of our captain's acquiescence."

Nyota laughed, tipping her head back. She didn't miss T'Pring's thoughtful, appreciative glance. "A man after my own heart," she declared. "Food is a unifying experience. There's nothing quite like it--" she gestured, a piece of pastry in hand, between herself and T'Pring. "It says, 'I care about you,' and it says, 'I want you to survive,' and it says, 'I want you to enjoy it, too. Share this with me.'"

"The exchange of fruit is an inherently romantic gesture within Vulcan culture," T'Pring agreed. "And the act of sharing a meal has proven an invaluable ritual in building a rapport with my human crewmates."

"Is that what we're doing?" Nyota asked. She set one hand on the stone between them, leaning towards T'Pring as she is watched by dark eyes that glitter with the barest hint of amusement. "'Building a rapport?'"

"How would you describe it?" T'Pring challenged in turn.

A smile spread, slowly, across Nyota's face. "A date," she said.

"And how would you describe what happens between two people on a date?" T'Pring raised an eyebrow.

"Which part of the date are we talking about?" Nyota asked, her smile impish, and T'Pring's other eyebrow raised in turn.

"That was an innuendo," she observed.

"And not a subtle one." Nyota patted her cheek, forgoing any attempt at mental shielding in favor of letting T'Pring feel the full brunt of her amusement. She sensed more than felt the moment that T'Pring tensed, attempting to subjugate whatever emotional response-- laughter, lust-- she was experiencing, and she backed off politely, both physically and conversationally.

They lapsed into a companionable silence as they finished their meal. The spices were certainly alien, unfamiliar and sharp but not at all unpleasant, and there was a buttery quality to the bread itself that was-- in a word-- heavenly. Nyota crumpled the waxy paper her pastry had been wrapped in, sighing with satisfaction, and accepted the napkin that T'Pring passed her to wipe off her fingers.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said, glancing up from the slick buttery feeling between her fingers, and promptly rolled her eyes at the tiny smirk T'Pring had turned in her direction. "Yes, I am aware I have just asked one. Spare me."

"As long as you are aware," T'Pring said.

"Spare me."

After a moment in which she somehow broadcast her amusement in just the slightest smirk and the tightness of the muscles at the corners of her eyes, T'Pring requested, "Make your inquiry, by all means." She pulled her glove back on, her own fingers wiped clean, and then turned to face Nyota more directly. Her expression was polite, inquisitive.

"Why did you approach me in the first place?" Nyota asked. She dropped her legs from their folded position, sliding down to stand beside T'Pring and brushing off the back of her skirt. This put her a head lower, once more, but she didn't mind the way she had to tip her head back to meet the Vulcan's heavy lidded eyes. "You don't need to tell me that it's unusual for one of your people to make such an overt overture."

T'Pring tipped her head lightly to the side in acknowledgement of the point. "I wanted to. You are beautiful," she said, and the simple, matter-of-fact manner of the statement was more flattering than any purple prose. Nyota ghosted her fingertips down the inside of T'Pring's forearm, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and T'Pring's dark eyes flicked, briefly down to her lips. "I saw no need to deprive myself of the opportunity to speak with you; it is not as if I seek a sustained liaison. My ship departs later this afternoon."

"Mine, too," Nyota agreed.

T'Pring blinked. She had probably assumed Nyota was employed on-planet, as few ships bothered to employ a living translator, when universal translation technology is so ubiquitous. Only diplomatic ships-- seeking to impress and flatter-- or Starfleet exploratory vessels-- likely to come across unknown species-- had enough need for a xenolinguist. But she evidently decided to file the information for later discussion, blinking again and then returning to their current topic.

"That I stayed to talk further is a factor of your intelligence and humor," she said. "You are... intriguing."

"Some have said, 'Fascinating,'" Nyota said, with no small hint of irony, and then she offered, "You are a distinctly interesting woman yourself, T'Pring of Vulcan."

T'Pring inclined her head in a nod. "High praise."

"For a deserving specimen," Nyota quipped, reaching out to tap her index finger against the tip of T'Pring's nose-- and promptly threw her head back, laughing, at the disgruntled expression of shock which the action earns her.

"Most illogical," T'Pring said, obviously fumbling for a response as she took a hasty step backwards, and Nyota gathered their trash to dump in a nearby wastebin as she hooked her bag up onto her shoulder.

"Well, I am a human, after all." She shot T'Pring a look over her shoulder, grinning. "Are you coming?"

"One moment--"

T'Pring caught her wrist, pulling her back into the relative privacy behind the corner of the building. When Nyota shifted to face her, T'Pring's fingertips-- the leather of her gloves supple and warm-- tipped her chin back and leaned down to kiss her again. This one was deeper, longer; Nyota hooked her elbow about T'Pring's neck for leverage and pushed herself onto her toes.

"Wow," she said, dazed, as T'Pring drew away.

"Mm." There was self-satisfied amusement in those dark eyes. One of T'Pring's hands had found its way to Nyota's hips, and it was warm and strong.

"You're a weird Vulcan," Nyota told her, still slightly breathless, and T'Pring shrugged. Somehow, that simple motion carried a great deal of the unspoken.

"I consider myself a singularly driven individual," she said, dry like desert sands.

"You see what you want; you go after it."

"It can be difficult not to gain a certain perspective." It wasn't a complete thought, though T'Pring voiced it as if it was.

Unfortunately, Nyota could fill in the rest. Trauma changed things; the trauma of losing nearly your entire people could change a lot of things. (Not to mention, she'd clearly spent much of the intervening years processing that trauma amongst humans.) She brushed a thumb over T'Pring's cheek, fighting down the sympathetic words that she could tell the Vulcan didn't want to hear, and settled down off of her toes. "Coming?" she asked, again.

T'Pring tucked her hands into her pockets, posture loose and casual as she fell into step next to her. "Where do you wish to go?"

"I-- Oh!" Nyota caught a glimpse of blonde through the crowd, taking a winding path towards the bakery, and quickly waved a hand. "Jim!" she called.

He spotted her, too, and his face broke out in a wide smile. He held up a finger, turning to smack the arm of a dark-haired man next to him, and Nyota may not have been able to hear Dr. McCoy's response, but she could guess at it by the scowl he turned towards their captain, gesturing to the stain of water down his jeans where Jim's attempt to get his attention had made him nearly drop his water bottle.

"Friends of mine," Nyota told T'Pring as she pushed through the crowd towards her crewmates and Jim led the way to meet her in the middle.

"Nyota!" Jim cried, throwing his arms wide.

"Oh," Leonard said, "finally, some sanity on this damn shore leave--"

"What, is Spock not enough for you?" Nyota demanded, as she let Jim sweep her up and spin her around in a hug-- thereby missing the way T'Pring snapped straight, her eyes widening.

"Spock?" she repeated, loudly, and the man in question looked up from a booth of antique astronomical devices which had previously held his attention.

"T'Pring," he said, with similar wide-eyed shock, nearly fumbling the astrolabe in his hands.

"You know each other?" Nyota asked, her eyebrows shooting high as she takes in the uncharacteristic uncertainty in Spock's movements, and she exchanges a look with Leonard.

The Vulcans both ignored her--or, perhaps more accurately, neither of them heard her.

T'Pring recovered first. "You look well," she said, somehow awkward with her impossibly straight posture.

"As do you," Spock said, something indefinable in his tone, "considering I was under the impression you were dead."

Leonard choked on an ill-timed sip of water, and Nyota had a sudden, horrible thought about the childhood friend turned betrothed who Spock had broken his Bond with just prior to absconding to Starfleet. "Oh, god," she said, covering her eyes with one hand.

T'Pring considered Spock's statement for a moment. "My apologies," she said, finally, and Spock's stoic expression broke in favor of something murderous.

He took several stiff-legged steps towards her, catching her elbow and drawing her off to the side so that they could engage in a hushed, incredibly blank-faced argument. Jim watched with bright, delighted eyes, and Leonard squinted over towards Nyota.

"You know who she is?" he asked, gesturing towards them with the hand holding his water bottle.

"I have a guess," Nyota hedged. She folded one arm over her chest, tucking one hand into her elbow as she pressed her mouth against the knuckles of the other. "He never mentioned her name, so it's difficult to say."

"Exes," Jim said. He tilted his head towards them, clearly trying to catch what they were saying beneath the din of the marketplace. "Gotta be exes."

Leonard was still giving her that side-eye. "Nyota," he said, slowly, studying the expression on her face as she watched Spock say something that made T'Pring close her eyes and reach up to rest her hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "Were you on a date with your ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend?"

She breathed in. She breathed out. "Worse," she told him, grimly. "I'm pretty sure I'm on a date with my ex-boyfriend's ex-wife."

"Spock was married?!" Jim yelped, as Leonard did an actual, literal spit take.

Spock and T'Pring both snapped up to look over at them; Spock looked pained and T'Pring simply raised her eyebrows. She looked back at Spock. "You did not tell them?"

"I told Nyota," he said, voice tight.

"A name would have been great, though," Nyota muttered, and T'Pring looked back and forth between them.

"I see," she said, clearly making a swift, accurate leap of logic. "Your taste in women remains impeccable."

Nyota burst into hysterical laughter, for lack of anything better to say. She buried her face into her hands and felt Jim's shoulders shaking with his own sublimated laughter as he slung his arm over her shoulders. "Now, his taste in men," he said, joking, and Leonard snorted.

"Speak for yourself," he declared. He laid the Southern charm on thick as he stepped towards T'Pring, extending his hand for her to shake. "Leonard McCoy, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet an old friend of Spock's."

"Experience with humans tells me you're simply hoping for embarrassing stories from our youth," T'Pring observed, but she shook his hand with the slightest hint of a smile hiding in the corners of her eyes.

"Who wouldn't?" Leonard countered, grinning, as Spock looked at him, drawing an air of exasperation about himself with just a twitch of his mouth.

"Perhaps another time," T'Pring said, with impeccable grace. She glanced, briefly, towards Spock, but after a moment of hesitation she stepped away and turned her attention towards Jim. "And you are..."

"James Tiberius Kirk," he declared. He extended a hand, but when T'Pring reached out to shake it like she had Leonard's, he switched his grip and dipped into a bow to brush his lips against her gloved knuckles.

T'Pring looked at Spock, who shrugged.

"Ignore him," Leonard said, dryly.

"I intended to," T'Pring informed him, and Leonard barked a laugh as Jim staggered with faux insult.

"Why do Vulcans always dislike me when we first meet?" he complained, throwing himself against Spock's side and draping an arm over his eyes dramatically.

Spock clearly made the decision to let the theatrics break the tension of the moment the way Jim had calculated them to. "Your personality," he said, quite frankly.

"It's why most humans dislike you, too," Leonard added, and he caught both Jim and Spock by the elbow, jerking his head towards the bakery. "C'mon, morons; lunch. Let's let the ladies get on with things, shall we?" He winked at Nyota as he nudged his partners into motion.

T'Pring watched them, quiet with her hands folded tightly behind her back, and Nyota drifted back towards her. "I can give you the necessary information to contact him later," she offered softly. "I'm sure you didn't cover everything in just a couple of minutes."

"That would be..." T'Pring breathed out. "Appreciated."

"Sure," Nyota said. She cleared her throat, glancing aside. "I could also give you the necessary information to contact me."

T'Pring looked at her, her eyes dark and thoughtful. "That would also be appreciated," she said.

"Yeah?" Nyota asked, a smirk curving her lips as she tipped her chin back to meet those heavy-lidded eyes. "Intriguing enough to speak with again, am I?"

"Perhaps I am just hoping for more recent embarrassing stories of Spock."

Nyota laughed, ducking her head. "Well, I certainly have plenty of those," she said, dryly, and caught T'Pring's wrist once more. "Want to keep developing our rapport?" she asked, with a twitch of her lips.

T'Pring hummed. "I believe there is a booth nearby selling citrus fruit," she said thoughtfully.

"The inherent romanticism of sharing an orange," Nyota agreed, letting herself be drawn into motion, and T'Pring smirked but did not disagree.

#a tramp stamp original #nyota uhura #t'pring #t'pura #femslash #I wrote this #and less importantly:#spock #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #this is like. an au meeting for them from a longfic I'm working on #but I think I've done enough to make it accessible and explain my thoughts about AOS t'pring regardless #and I have. a lot of thoughts about t'pring in general and aos t'pring in specific.#I really really like the idea of her and spock having also been friends as kids #anyway she gets back to her ship and her captain is just like ''what trouble did you get into this time :/''#''made out with my ex-husband's ex-girlfriend.''#''..........well at least nobody almost died for once''#yes I couldn't resist throwing in some background mcspirk

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago

Text

20. Tenya Iida

Theme: Vampire, Southern Gothic

Kinks: Outdoor sex, biting (duh), slight blood kink, mild spanking, mild punishment play, brat calling

All underaged characters are aged up. Tenya is 18+. Don’t come for me unless I send for you.

(The original Master List will change slightly from story to story. I keep adding stuff that I did not put on the original list)

Masterlist

You closed the ornate French doors behind you and stepped out into the night. The evening was sticky with the high humidity, but it was better than the sweltering heat inside. You fanned yourself with a silk fan and wandered into the garden. Cicadas hummed wildly in the trees while crickets chirped in the grass. In the air hung gardenia, wisteria, and homegrown lemongrass. So much better than the cloying, choking smell of cheap perfume, and even cheaper cigar smoke. You were dragged here almost against your will. The only things you liked about the party were the cocktails and the lovely new cocktail dress you got to show off. It was a silk and chiffon dress that wrapped around your body like a second skin. Best of all, it was in your favorite color.

Here in the deep south of Louisiana, the silk and chiffon were welcomed in the heat. The evening had cooled a great deal since the afternoon when you arrived at this southern palace. If it had been hosted at an actual plantation home, you would have chosen to wear your new favorite dress to a different venue.

Thankfully, the house was less than fifty years old and was owned by your boss, who liked a certain amount of Americana, odd for someone who was Japanese. But who were you to judge Mr. Toshinori?

Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to walk into the night all by yourself. If quirks weren't bad enough, add vampires into the mix, and you have a world turned upside down. Before you ask, vampires were never real until someone had the misfortune of having a literal vampire-quirk. It spread by accent when that civilian had gone too long without sating themselves on living blood, they infected another. As it came to be known throughout the world in news and social media, the vampire quirk was passed through bites and the exchange of blood. The victim still kept their original quirks, but now they had to have blood to live, they can't step out into the sun unless the victims wanted serious burns, and they grew pale or gray like death, depending on skin tone.

But the party was too stifling.

Half the guests were strangers to you, friends of Mr. Toshinori. The other half of the guest list included people who just made you feel terrible. They weren't bad people, but they reminded you of a time when you had someone special. Tenya has been missing for two years since the vampire quirk first infected Japan. Though a lot of work had been done to quell the problem, many were still missing. One day he was there, fighting crime and protecting you and the city. The next, he was gone. Vanished. His family and agency didn't know where he'd gone, much to your horror. Two years later, there were more questions than answers.

The fresh air was necessary for you not to lose your mind or get plastered in front of Mr. Toshinori's friends. Tonight felt similar to summer evenings in Japan, so it wasn't out of place. You stepped further away from the house and squinted into the yard. A full moon pierced in between the branches and shed some light. You found a path that led out into an unfenced part of the yard. You weren't sure if Americans were fond of wide open backyards, or if the fancy house was built so far from the nearest neighbors, a fence seemed silly. You glanced over your shoulder, then continued. You didn't mind the grass tickling your legs, but it was the bugs treating you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. You found a pebbled path and took it to avoid all the bugs. Your heels weren't very high at all, so walking down the trail wasn't a significant feat. You circled the property, always making sure that you could still make out parts of the house.

The night grew longer. Sooner rather than later, someone was going to miss you at the party. Your quirk wasn't strong against most people, let alone someone infected with a vampire quirk. You think about going back but only think. The night air is so clear and breathable. You didn't even mind the bug bites and humidity. You made another circle around the house's property before your legs started to hurt. Behind a gardenia bush stood a stone bench perfect for you to rest. You sank down with a sigh. The smell of gardenias was almost too much before a new smell wafted towards you. It was a smooth, masculine cologne. You smelled it before and knew it well.

You sprang to your feet to follow the scent. It led you back around the house where no one in the windows could see you scurry through the bushes. The lights of the house slowly began to disappear the further you traveled. A finely manicured garden gave way to the wilderness. Moonlight and starlight guided you deeper still with frogs croaking around a small moss-covered pond. Moonbeams split between the branches of a weeping willow to outline the shadowed figure sitting at the base of the tree. You stopped in your tracks. Your heart started pounding.

The figure rose to their feet and turned towards you. A summer breeze brushed the leaves out of the way to reveal their full form.

"Y/N?"

Tenya's voice froze the blood in your veins. Tears welled in your eyes at the first intonement of his voice, and you took a cautious step towards him. Your legs shook to the point that you weren't able to stand any longer. Your heel snagged on an upraised root and sent you tumbled over. Tenya's superior speed let him catch you before you landed on the loamy ground.

"Are you alright?" Iida asked.

You balked. Your jaw dropped to the ground.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? What happened? Where have you been?" You had a thousand more questions. Instead, you chose to grab hold of his shirt and bury your face inside his chest.

His arms hesitantly wrapped around you. You breathed in his scent deeply. You missed this smell. Almost as much as you missed the man himself.

"I've missed you so much," you sighed.

"I…I missed you too," said Tenya.

You didn't bother to dry your eyes as you lifted your head to look up at him. Tenya's eyes glowed red in the dark. Gasping, you pulled away slightly. Tenya ground his teeth and turned his eyes away from you. You felt his arms slip away from you even though you still clutched his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I couldn't stop him. I wasn't trying to apprehend a criminal, but he bit me. I couldn't face my family or you after knowing what I became."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I made arrangements with Toshinori. I only wanted to see you one more time. I wanted to see how you were if you were eating right. If you moved on." Your heart sank. You reached up with both hands and held his face and turned it slowly over to yours.

"Move on? You hoped I moved on?" Your voice cracked at the insult. "All I wanted was to know what happened to you, Tenya. I love you, I don't care what you've turned into! You gave yourself up in the pursuit of justice. You're my hero, Tenya. How could I move on from you?"

You didn't give him a chance to make a rebuttal. You kissed him hard on the lips, licking and biting where you could. You both stumbled to the ground, Tenya being too distracted to stop the fall. You straddled his hips and held his head between your hands. Your tears watered his cheeks as you kissed his lips and each cheek, his eyes, chin, forehead, and both of his ears. You kissed him all over until his face was cherry red.

"Y-Y/N! Calm down, I understand! You, you love me. But there's something you need to know."

You stopped for a moment. More so to catch your breath than because he told you to. You wanted to kiss him all night. His eyes glowed red in the dark. Tenya leaned forward and braced his hands against the moist earth. As he sat up, you felt his hardened member poke between your cheeks. Tenya parted his lips. Two slivery fangs protruded from pinkish gums.

"I've been infected by the vampire quirk, which makes things like this…awkward. You have no idea how many nights I thought about you. Wondering if you would still want me after finding out I was infected. I wanted to go to you and," Tenya swallowed hard. "Do unspeakable things to you."

His face grew redder. The tips of his ears turned bright pink. You stifled yourself to keep from laughing. No matter how adorable you thought his face looked, that didn't make the situation any less severe. You needed to focus on what he was about to say.

"I found myself going to your apartment and thought about how your neck would feel against my new fangs as I thrust inside you. I wondered what you would sound like as I…fucked you and sucked your blood. I was afraid that you would think of me as nothing but a monster."

You reached behind your back, where Tenya's cock stood at attention. You wrapped your hand around him and pumped him through his clothes. This made the man beneath you buck his hips.

"Does this look like I think you're a monster?" You asked slyly.

Tenya grunted as you pumped him harder. You shifted forward a little, so you could unzip his pants pull it out. You couldn't tell whether it was the vampire quirk that made him so big and hard all of a sudden, or your administrative kisses were enough to make him rock hard.

In a flash, you were pinned to the willow tree, shielded from all view except for Tenya's. The wind was knocked out of you that you didn't get the chance to recover. The sounds of tearing fabric reached your ears before you realized that it was Tenya, your sweet Tenya, who was doing the clothes-ripping. Your silk panties were reduced to shreds by the time he was done with them. The seams of your dress were also ripped in his furor to get you to spread open for him. Tenya gave no warning before plunging right in. You moaned at how full you felt, how the veins of his cock rubbed you the right way. You tossed your head back as Tenya slammed his hips into yours. His teeth left indents in your shoulders and the tops of your dress, where it slipped from your shoulders. Tenya's speed and rough treatment made the willow tree shiver along with you.

"You're devious, you know," Tenya growled. "Fucking a vampire in the middle of the woods. You should be punished for having such a lewd mind."

Tenya held your legs wide open and pulled them taut behind his back. Your ankles instinctively crossed each other at the small of his back, and your heels dug into his flesh. Not that Tenya seemed to mind or notice. Tenya held you tight against him until there was no more space between you. In your lust-filled haze, you could no longer tell where you ended and where Tenya began. He pounded your cunt with the ferocity of a starving man at a buffet. You giggled how earlier you thought yourself an all-you-can-eat buffet for mosquitoes, and here you were being served up to someone who likely hadn't had sex for two years.

One of Tenya's broad hands came down against your thigh, turning it bright red with his handprint.

"Laughing…at a time like this, YN?" Tenya grunted with a deep thrust that kissed your cervix. "You should pay attention when you're getting punished."

If this was punishment, then you were going to be a very bad girl for your boyfriend.

"Mhmm, Tenya. Do it again. Fuck me harder, spank me more!"

Tenya slowed only to give you a stern look. His hips never stopped moving, and his cock was still heavily buried in you. He glowered at your sheepish smile.

"Is that how you want to play, little brat?"

You challenged him to a fight you could not win. Still buried deep within your inner walls, Tenya laid you out on the grass, hair and torn chiffon rumbled on the ground. He held your legs up to your chest and demanded that you hold them there. Your shoulders pressed into the dirt, but you didn't mind. Tenya resumed his seat in your warm walls and started stretching you out anew. This new angle was superb for reaching deep inside your cunt and hitting your cervix over and over again. Tenya clawed your body like it was his own toy to play with. Having never before seen this side of Tenya before, you moaned at the rough treatment. Your juices spread all over your lower belly, thighs, and the Tenya's pelvis. Stars danced in front of your eyes as you felt your whole body tighten. Your back arched taught like a bow. Your hands clutched the ground for support as you felt yourself falling. Tenya snapped his hips with enough strength to break your bones. Heavy ropes of cum warmed your walls and lower belly as it spread. You were utterly boneless despite Tenya slowly pumping more into you.

His head leaned down and pressed his lips against your throat. You felt the pinpricks of his fangs jut against your flesh, teasing and threatening at the same time. Slowly, you nodded your head.

Tenya waited for no more. He sank his teeth into as he started his pumping again. His thrusts were slower but harder. Each bone-shattering snap of his hips dragged you back up to that wonderful precipice you'd just fallen over. You moved your hips against him and wrapped your arms behind his neck. Tenya was careful not to take too much or too quickly. He suckled your blood with a strange gentleness that contrasted the harsh thrusting inside your womb. That only changed when he climaxed again, fangs and cock still fully sheathed inside you. You milked him while his mouth laved up the crimson rivulets.

You reached up to cling to his shoulders as Tenya carefully pulled away to avoid hurting you further. The ache in your legs was proof that you had never experienced the like before. However, it was a delicious pain. You vaguely remember Tenya rearranging your clothes and his before picking you up off the ground. You fell asleep in his arms, listening to the hum of cicadas.

#kinktober week #kinktober my hero academia edition #my hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #mha smut #tenya #tenya Iida #vampire!Tenya

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the-cat-at-the-theatre-door · 4 years ago

Note

Gus and Skimbleshanks for the character ask!

All of them?? Oh, gee, okay um...

I'll tell you what - I'll answer all of them for Gus for now, and then perhaps answer them all for Skimble in the future (depending on interest level).

Alright, let’s see...

Gus

Already answered 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 here!

1. Something this character is truly proud of

Gus is extremely proud of his accomplishments throughout his life, and extremely proud of how he worked up from nothing to get where he is - and he will humbly boast about these accomplishments until the cows come home, ask anyone in his proximity.

But, if I may take a moment to be as sappy as a possibly can, what Gus is *most* proud of is his legacy - aka, his children and his grandchildren. Though he never thought he’d be the nurturing type, and he still really isn’t, there is not a soul alive that has come into contact with Gus the Theatre Cat that does not know of his son and daughter, and later, his group of grandkittens. That’s why he’s always lamenting at the young ones that they “think they’re smart” when they do the bare minimum when he *knows* that they’re able to accomplish more than that.

2.Who they want to please the most.

Gus is, quite literally, a crowd pleaser. He’s a showman, so of course he is. He wants to please his audience, his director, his fellow castmates...all at once. He is also very proud when he manages to please his fellow cats or people in his family - for making a name for himself, for getting somewhere, for reaching such prominence as just a *cat* for crying out loud. He’s made it, and that makes him feel happier than anything else considering where he started.

When kittens tell him that they want to be like him someday, he positively beams.

3. Who depends on them.

His children depended on him for the longest time, but he kinda blew it with that one for a good chunk of their lives - and by the time he had started to come around, they were already independent, and it’s one of his biggest regrets that he didn’t come around sooner.

Nowadays, no one really depends on Gus for physical things or favours, but there are many members of the tribe that depend on him to listen and to talk to them. Gus has a way of spinning situations simply so that they make sense, an eccentric conversation style that is both pleasant and distracting, and is able to read the room *extremely* easily. It’s a little spooky how easily Gus can pick up on a situation, with very little conversation, and how smoothly he can transition conversation/interaction style if necessary. Gus can be rather blunt and honest to a fault, but you’d be hard-pressed to find better life advice than from him.

(If we go with my Gus and Bella are siblings, theory, she used to depend on him a lot when they were young, since their parents also weren’t around much - what goes around and all that - to protect her and watch her)

4. What they would do if they had one month to live

Well...I mean...what is he doing now?

Sorry. A younger Gus would have said he would press on with whatever he was doing at the time. He’d want to be back in the pub with his friends, late into the night. He’d love to get a final dramatic monologue in, a final curtain call; die doing what he loves instead of caught up in a bed.

Now, well, Gus is well aware - somewhere in the back of his mind - that he’s not going to live a long time. He knows the end is nearing. All he really wants is quiet - after a life lived out loud, if he could just collect himself enough to sort everything out one thing at a time, and quietly work through each day he would be grateful. Bored to death, perhaps, but grateful.

He’d like to maybe see Bella again, before he goes.

5. A cherished personal belonging.

The blanket Gus began to wear around his shoulders used to be where his wife and children slept and where his grandchildren currently play, and it has a whole cacophony of different scents attached to it. He hates being parted with it. When things get overwhelming for him, he buries himself in it, curling himself under a literal blanket of familiarity - even if he isn’t quite sure *why* it’s familiar.

11. This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

He has a pair of gloves that his wife also made for him that Jelly has patched over the years because they’ve worn thin. She ended up having to cut the fingers off and hem them when they became more hole than glove.

He also has a scarf given to him by one of the theatre patrons from an earlier show of his - a little girl with her mother who was only truly fascinated with the cat on stage, and didn’t understand why they didn’t give him a costume as well. She was helping by giving him hers.

12. How they sleep.

He snores and mutters in his sleep, to the point where he seems to have entire conversations with himself. He’s also rather fitful. The kittens are wary of sleeping anywhere near him, since he has been known to jerk awake suddenly and kick out in alarm (and doesn’t he feel guilty the few times that *has* caught a few of them in the ribs or the legs)

13. What kind of parent they would be.

Well he *is* one, and the answer to that question would be not a *great* one, but not a *bad* one either. Gus is a fun parent, a loving parent, a proud parent, but he isn’t the best parental figure. He isn’t so great with discipline, nor is he great for showing up to anything on time.

I’d say Gus’ strength as a parent came from his unfailing willingness to go along with whatever scenario his children would cook up - from pirates to knights and princesses to aliens - Gus was always willing to jump into the game should they invite him to play with them. And you know he threw his entire self into it, too.

14. How they did in school

Gus would have a been a “graduated from Juilliard” kinda guy, if the timeline matched up - or if he could have afforded it.

As it stands, he didn’t really finish school. Not necessarily out of any inability to do so, but a complete and total lack of interest. He held odd jobs mostly, to support his family, which led him to quietly quitting school. He figured anything he wanted to learn would be just as good coming from direct experience or working under a mentor than a formal education - and it got him where he is today, so all in all not bad.

15. What cologne or perfume they would use

There is a very specific one that my grandfather uses that smells exactly like something Gus would wear - it’s that standard older gentleman scent - kind of like...Aqua Velva but softer - that is slightly on the pricy side, but not ridiculously so. He doesn’t bathe in it, but he uses it religiously.

He *used* to dip into a Chanel perfume that one of his actress friends gave to him after one of their shows wrapped, that he *kinda* thought just smelled a lot like lightly spicy rubbing alcohol but felt it polite to at least...use it - when that finally ran out and he curiously checked on its price...he never even looked at it again.

(”Ridiculous...I may as well douse myself in a bottle of gin it’ll give off the same effect!”)

16. Their sexuality

Gus is bisexual and biromantic, with a preference for Queens, but he’s had several trysts with Toms as well. He was quite the paramour in his younger days.

17. What they’d sing at karaoke

Gus finds karaoke to be absolutely *dreadful* in that he legitimately does not see the fun in it OR its purpose. And that’s coming from a cat whose whole job it is to perform.

So count him out of that. He’ll monologue on the spot for you, though, if he is so inclined.

18. Special talents they have

Gus used to be extremely good at remembering people’s names - even after just one introduction or overhearing it once (Jelly gets that from him).

He's very good at patter songs and tongue twisters. He also used to delight his kits by speeding through the alphabet backwards.

He can clock a person's personality within literally seconds of knowing them - and he's usually right.

He plays piano and was the one who taught Jelly to play. He can’t so much anymore with his shaking hands.

19. When they feel safest

Gus feels safest in the light when he's able to see everything. He never got stage fright, per say, but would get waves of nerves when he was directly in a spotlight - with the rest of the stage dark around him...like he was being swallowed. He would get nervous to move out of it - the lighting techs needed to be *very* on the ball if the director called for a total blackout (he only really trusted two of them).

20. Household chore they hate the most

Cooking. 100%. Can't stand it. Does not know how the oven works. Cannot adjust to picky palettes well. Definitely a take out dad.

21. Their fondest childhood memory

(Sibling AU) When Gus and Grizabella were children, they put on “Cinderella” (which Bella insisted would be changed to “Cinderbella” because of course. Gus goes along with it because *whatever fine his mother told him that he was the big brother and had to be nice to her*) as one of their very first collaborative plays together - they were around 8 and 6 respectively. They had already put on dozens of little skits and read-throughs and imaginary games, and they loved doing it.

Bella *refused* to be anyone other than Cinderella and Gus refused to play the prince (because it meant he had to *kiss his sister yuck*), so instead it was really “Staring Grizabella as Cinderella and Asparagus as *literally every other part except for Prince Charming*.- they spent hours trying to figure out how the quick changes would work, and making script changes, and hanging sheets behind them for curtains, and Bella glued together a tiny little suit for her teddy bear who would play the prince instead.

All in all, it went about as well as they could have expected - a bit of a disaster. They put it on for their father, who watched with tired eyes and a patient smile, and applauded enthusiastically at the end - and they both decided right then and there that that was what they would do for the rest of their lives.

He considers that his first stage credit.

22. How they spend their money.

Honestly, Gus’ money spending habits are very strange. He will buy himself a new car *once* and then run the thing into the ground until it physically can’t run anymore, won't buy new clothes until you can see through the old ones, will *always* weasel his way out of paying for alcohol at a bar (he has *many* tricks up his sleeve for this one), and he will refuse to spend his money on other frivolous things, but you bet your dollar that he is literally always shelling out money to his grandchildren just because - saying it would be their little secret, and one time bought a bird house because it "spoke to him" but never bothered to hang it up or actually use it.

23. What kind of alcohol they drink

Well, he used to be a “whatever I am given I will drink and I will probably drink *too much*” kind of guy, but since cutting back he’ll moreso partake in brandy or gin, but only in very small doses.

24. What they wish they could change about themselves

There are several things that Gus wishes he could change from the past, but the one thing he wishes he could truly change about himself in the present is how much of a burden he feels he’s become to the others (he's not but he feels that way). Gus is a proud cat, he will admit that. And with that pride comes mourning of his own independence.

Sometimes, when Jelly is helping him do things - like button up his coat or helping him to eat - he just looks at her forlornly and murmurs “My poor dear. You shouldn’t have to do any of this.”

He also wishes that there wasn’t a period of time that his familial relationships were so strained because of him putting his career first, but he can’t really change that so much as try his best to make up for it.

25. What other people wish they could change about them

Gus has the tendency to be a little...let’s say *long-winded*. And a little hypercritical. He holds himself to a high - near-impossible - standard, so he also has a bad habit of holding others to that same standard.

#sorry it took so long i had to think hard about some of these!#jellicles ask because jellicles dare #is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer #my headcanons #Gus the Theatre Cat

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omgsquee2001 · 4 years ago

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Pirate Queen - Luffy’s Ending

~Luffy’s POV~

I paced on the deck of the Moby dick, the rest of my crew were sitting on benches, waiting for Law to come out and tell us the [Y/N] would be okay. Marco and Ace sat with my friends.

“Luffy, stop pacing will you? You’re going to wear a hole into the deck.” Ace scolded. I frowned and looked at my older brother.

“But I can’t! I need to see that she is okay.” I said. It was my fault she was in this state in the first place. If I had only stayed with her the day she saw that ship. Then maybe I could have kept Zeo from coming and taking her. I liked [Y/N], more than a friend. I had this weird feeling whenever I was around her. My stomach would hurt and my heart felt like it was doing backflips. I went to Chopper to see what was wrong with me, and he said that I was in love. I liked the idea of being in love with [Y/N]. A few days after Chopper told me I was in love, I confessed to [Y/N], and she accepted my feelings, and we were now together. My heart was ripped in two when she was taken. Nami sighed and walked over, she placed her hand on my shoulder, causing me to halt my actions of pacing. She gave me a kind smile.

“Luffy, she’ll be fine. Law’s a good doctor. He’ll be able to save her.” She said. Just then, Law walked up and on the deck, holding an unconscious [Y/N] in his arms. My eyes widened. Law looked at us.

“She needs rest. You can see her when I lay her down,” He said. He walked into the infirmary and lay her on one of the beds. I got up and rushed over. Law set a stool down next to her bed, allowing me to sit next to her. I sat down, and took her hand. “She might have nervous breakdowns and nightmares from what she had to endure,” I looked up at Law. “Take care of her, Strawhat-ya. She’s special.” He said. I nodded, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips.

“You bet I will, Tra-guy,” I smiled up at him. “And thank you,” Law nodded, leaving and closing the door. I sighed, looking at [Y/N]’s calm, sleeping face. “Wake up soon, [Y/N], you still need to be my Pirate Queen.” I said quietly.

________________________________________________________________________________

~[Y/N’s POV~

Darkness.

That was all I saw. One minute I saw my friends and my family standing before me and the Celestial Dragon, the next, I saw only darkness. I then remembered being held gently in the arms of someone I knew. Their body was warm and comforting. It had to be Ace or Marco. They were the only ones who produced fire, so their bodies were constantly warm no matter what. It had always sparked envy in the crew when they docked on winter islands. The next thing I knew, I was laying on something soft. The sounds of a creaking ship and the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils. I scrunched up my nose, and opened my eyes, letting out a groan. Once my vision became clear, I saw that I was in a wooden room, laying on a bed. The white sheets covered my pajama clad body. I was wearing my favorite lavender colored nightgown. I felt some pressure on the side of my bed, and I looked over. I smiled and tears formed in my eyes. There, sitting on a stool next to my bed, was my lover, Luffy. I squeezed his hand. Luffy jolted up, and squinted, looking at me. His eyes widened and he held my hand tighter.

"[Y-Y/N], you're finally awake!" He shouted. I let out a sob mixed with a laugh as I reached out my hand for him. He took my hand into his warmer and larger one, kissing the back of my hand. He reached out his other hand and cupped my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against it. I leaned into it and smiled up at him. Before I had been taken, I had slowly fallen in love with the rubbery and childish Captain of the Straw-Hat Pirates, and he had slowly fallen in love with me, and thus a happy and lovely relationship blossomed.

“I’m so happy you’re alright. Tra-guy barley managed to save you.” He said, tears formed in his eyes. I smiled and brushed the tears away as they fell, cupping his cheek.

“Don’t count me out just yet, My Love,” I said softly. Luffy chuckled and brought me in for a tender kiss. When I pulled away, my eyes looked around the room. “Where’s Father and the others?” I asked. Luffy smiled.

“They’re all here, on the Moby Dick. They’ve been anxiously waiting for you to wake up.” He said.

“May I see them? With the Captain's permission, of course.” I said. Luffy smirked and put a hand to his chin in mock thought.

“Hmm, give the Captain some much needed cuddles and he might consider letting you see your friends and family.” He said. I giggled and gently moved over, being careful not to hurt myself any further. Luffy placed his hat on the stool and crawled into the bed with me, gently wrapping his arms around me, bringing me closer to him. I sighed in content. Luffy started stroking my hair.

“I missed you so much,” I said quietly. Luffy looked down at me, he saw the far away look in my eyes and frowned. “When I was chained to those walls, the Celestial Dragon told me that no one was coming to rescue me. I knew he was wrong. I knew you would come for me, but each day he brought my hope down,” tears started to escape my [e/c] eyes. “I-I was so scared.” I said, letting out shaky breaths. Luffy tilted my head up to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said, bringing me into another gentle kiss. My breathing became even, slowing down. He pulled back, staring into my eyes with love. He wiped away the tears. “I promise you, I will never let anything happen to you. I will never let anyone take you away, not since I just got you back.” He said. He could tell that I wanted to see my friends and family, so he kissed my forehead, nuzzling into my hair, breathing in my scent.

“Am I all clear to see my family and friends now?” I asked, glancing up at him. Luffy chuckled and nodded, helping me sit up. He sat up and put his hat back on. He took my hand, and opened the door. My vision was blinded by the bright light of the sun. I covered my eyes with my hand, squinting. Luffy placed his arm around my shoulders, leading me to where my friends and family were. My eyes widened and tears filled them. There, sitting in his throne, sat my father. His eyes met mine and he smiled, tears of his own falling. He opened his large arms. Luffy let go of me, and I raced towards my father and jumping into his arms. Our laughter mixed as we embraced each other, tears of happiness falling. Father sighed and he pulled away, holding me in his large hands. I sat in his palm.

“My daughter, I am so happy to see you.” He said. I smiled, but then frowned as tears fell from his eyes. I stood up and pressed my hand against his cheek.

“Father, why are you crying?” I asked, worried. Father brushed his tears away, but they were replaced by more.

“I-I’m crying because I feel like a terrible father.” He cried. My eye brows furrowed.

“A terrible father?” I asked. He nodded.

“W-when your mother died, I-I promised I would p-protect you with my life. I-I failed at that when I lost you at sea. T-then I find you beaten and starved half to death. P-please, forgive me, [Y/N].” Father sobbed. I smiled and kissed his nose.

“Oh father, there is nothing to forgive,” I said. He looked at me in surprise, his tears still falling but slowly now. “You would have had no idea where I was, if not for Zeo giving Luffy my location. It’s not like the World Government would have just told you where I was,” I gave him a closed eyed smile. “Besides, I knew you would come for me.” I said. Father smiled and closed his eyes. He opened them and the tears stopped falling.

“You are so much like your mother. You iron strong will, your loving heart and most of all, your sun bright soul that is willing to forgive anyone, only if they deserve it,” he said. He gently lowered me to the ground, and I joined Luffy, intertwining our fingers. Whitebeard smiled at the happy couple as Luffy kissed the side of my head. He looked out across the people gathered on the Moby Dick. “Now, let us have a feast to celebrate my daughter’s recovery and the alliance of the Heart and Straw-Hat Pirates with the Whitebeard Crew!” Father shouted. My eyes widened and I looked behind me. There stood Law, Sanji and Zoro. Nami and Robin stood with their ally and crew members. I smiled and rushed over, giving each of them a hug. Nami and Robin pulled me into a hug.

“It's good to see you, Tiger Lily.” Nami said. I giggled.

~Later That Night~

I laughed as Izo and Jozou had a drinking contest with Marco, Ace and Zoro. Nami had joined, only because there was Belli involved. I had changed out of my nightgown and into a red, off the shoulder dress. My hair had been pulled back and into a beautiful French braid updo, courtesy of Nami and Robin. Lufffy sat next to me, his arm wrapped around my bare shoulders. He smiled down at me.

“You can choose, you know.” He said. I looked at him, confused.

“Huh?” I asked. Luffy gestured to the Whitebeard and Heart crews.

“You can choose to go or stay with them,” he set down his meat and wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my shoulder. “Or you can leave with me and the Straw-Hats.” He said. I smiled and cupped his cheek, bringing him into another passionate kiss. We pulled away.

“I think I’ll leave with you and your crew. It’s where I belong,” I said, looking out across the activities. I then looked back at Luffy, smiling. “Besides,” I said, tracing the scar on Luffy’s chest. “You still need to become the Pirate King, and I, your Pirate Queen.” I said, smiling.

The next morning, with a heavy heart, I said goodbye to my friends and family. Ace, Marco and Pops waved down at me.

"Bye [Y/N]! See you some other time!" Ace shouted. Luffy smiled as he stood next to me, his arm wrapped around my waist. Luffy looked up at Pops.

“Hey old man,” he shouted. “You just wait! I’m going to become King of the Pirates and [Y/N] will become my Queen!” Luffy shouted. Pops laughed.

“I’ll be looking for that in the newspapers. Take care, my daughter. May our paths cross again!” Pops shouted. I laughed as Luffy, the Straw-Hat crew and I all waved to my Father and his crew.

//I apologize for the long wait guys. I’ve been really busy with online college and haven't really gotten the chance to update in a while. Here’s Luffy’s Ending. Next up will be: Something to Fight For; Zoro’s Ending//

#one-piece-x-reader #luffy x reader

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eleanore-delphinium · 4 years ago

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DamiRae Week 2020: Marriage

JLDAW AU

NOTE: This is PART 3. (kinda stand-alone)

@damirae-week my entry

Part 1: DamiRae Week: BOUND TOGETHER

Part 2: DamiRae Week: SOULMATES

Part 3: (YOU ARE HERE)

Part 4: I Remember You

DamiRae Week 2020: MARRIAGE

Damian led me to where Dick was confined in and when I saw the state that Dick was in, it felt as though someone had clutched my heart from within my chest. It felt awful seeing him like that, and the emotion I was feeling off of him was intense and then hollow, and the cycle would continue. He did not understand what he was feeling when there were emotions to feel and did not know what to do with it when it’s there, and when it’s gone, he is left confused but sometimes empty. And I felt that confusion he was going through in its fast pace.

This might make me an awful person but I wanted to end his suffering through death. The thought made me forget what he was emitting and it felt like it was the right thing to do. But, how could I?

Damian had used the Lazarus pit because Dick was his brother. He longed for family in the state that we were in. And I had told him that I would have done the same if I were in his place and had his resources. So how could I find the heart to kill Dick?

“I can help…” Hearing my father say that made me think that I could heal him.

I approach Dick slowly. My perception of time and space altered. It seemed that my footsteps were too loud. My breathing uneven and my vision blurry. When I dropped to my knees beside him, the thump felt a little too loud. He looked like he was about to scream but he had a gag on his mouth, so he couldn’t. I was informed, as we were making our way here, that it was to prevent him from hurting himself or anyone else.

“Hey…”I say as gentle as I could as not to freak him out but it sounded too loud to me. I wrap my arms around Dick. His eyes were reflecting his insanity, I propped a leg up and leaned his back against it. He squirms in my arms but I try to hold him down as much as I could, as I start healing him to at least ease his mind.

And Azar, did it feel so awful.

It feels like I couldn’t breathe. I was starting to lose myself with Dick. I wrap my arms tighter around him and bury my face on his shoulder as I began to rock our bodies.

“Shh…Shh…” I kept repeating. I wonder who was I comforting, him or me? And the shushing suddenly stopped as I started seeing flashes of Dick’s life and his emotions tangling up with him. I gasp and I sobbed and was on the verge of screaming-- but maybe I already was.

“Raven!” I hear Damian call out; his voice filled with worry and urgency. I could feel someone embrace me, and I assume it’s Damian. I held Dick closer to me maintaining focus as I fight with the surging emotions I was feeling and the visions I was seeing. I wanted to puke and yell and destroy.

And oh-- how I wanted to destroy.

Dick had become quiet—no everything around me had become awfully quiet. I could smell Damian’s scent, and was aware of his firm hold on me and his hard chest. My eyes closed and I felt water on my cheeks--tears were streaming down my face, I had realized. I must be weeping so loudly, but I couldn’t hear myself. And everything just stopped-- everything went black. I felt oddly relieved.

At first, I did not understand where I was, but it slowly sunk in that I was looking at my bedroom ceiling. The bedroom that I was assigned in when I arrived at the compound. It was rather dark and I was confused—wasn’t I with Dick? I heard shuffling against the wood and I try to get up as I turn my head to the direction of the noise. Damian is by my window which is covered by thick curtains, I notice that it was day because of the small cracks from the curtains that allowed sunlight in.

He notices me, my head is aching badly, I took notice of the disheveled state that he was in. He looked as though he has not slept well for a while.

I attempted to ask him what was wrong and how I got here, but I found that my throat was dry which adds to my confusion. I had closed my eyes and looked down, the throbbing in my head worsening in my confused state.

“God. Raven!” Damian was suddenly beside me, his arms wrapped around me. And I felt every ounce of worry and relief he felt and it felt like a slap on my cheeks. I was already confused and being suddenly overwhelmed with his emotions was a little too much. But he was shaking against me and I found that I could not afford to be overwhelmed right now. So, I lift my arms weakly to hug and comfort him. However, I found that my body felt rather weak too.

“You’ve been asleep for three days!” Damian’s face is buried against my shoulder. The way he was acting made me recognize the fear he felt. I felt something wet on the shoulder that Damian was leaning on. I realized that he was crying and the despair in his voice solidified his emotions into me.

Hearing him sound so broken made me decide to heal myself, I had to be strong for Damian. But something had changed. I felt it. Something was different.

“I’m alright, Damian.” I comforted him, but his hold does not weaken nor his emotions. My voice sounded weird to me.

“You were asleep for three days—you weren’t healing yourself.” He sobbed, and I felt it, the full extent of his fear. He had thought that I was going to die, the only semblance of love he had. The person he adored so much. The only one he can walk this path with him and yet still care for another individual in this way.

“Healing…” I mumbled breathlessly. I was overwhelmed already with the situation and I realized—healing. My eye twitched and a tear falls and somehow, I found the strength to hug Damian tighter. That was what has changed.

“Your healing has changed.” My father confirms what I already know. “If you let me—” No.

I started wearing a full body suit that is purple close to black with purple accents. I couldn’t heal the same anymore and healing Dick became a long and tedious process.

Damian insisted that I did not have to treat Dick, not at the expense of my health., not after what happened the first time, I attempted to heal Dick. But I love Damian and I want to give him this. I want to give him more.

Love from me was different from love from a family member, and maybe that was why I wanted Dick to be healed for Damian. The family love I could never experience now, cannot be changed. But to Damian who had a taste of it before this shit-show-- can still have a portion of it. And I want to safeguard and give that to him.

I am now part of the league of assassins. I am now Damian’s partner. And despite my father becoming significantly nosier, I am happy with Damian and the league. This happiness is what I am willing to protect. That very moment my father had threatened Damian, I had long decided—I will protect this. Him.

I have been with Damian for almost over a year now. The world is left in rubbles after the parademons attacked. Thankfully, nowadays the parademons don’t come in big hordes as they did the first time of the attack. But I suppose it makes sense, there isn’t much to destroy or kill now. Damian has been training me to fit the league’s standards, and he is a rather strict instructor. Sometimes I wonder if he got it from Batman or his grandfather.

Whenever we were training, he would not hold back because of his relationship with me. Something I appreciate because I won’t learn anything if he holds back. But I also feel his conflict when we train and even more so when he lands a hit on me.

And because he was the leader of the League of Assassins, he felt that he couldn’t even show favoritism towards me. Despite that, he obviously had a soft spot for me. I just can’t help but be charmed by it. His duality was adorable, and yet I knew it was a burden to him, and I try my best to ease him.

Damian could get a little uptight and protective but it stemmed from the fear of losing the only person he had left-- me. And in all honesty, I felt the same exact way. It just so happens that I am willing to do what is necessary to ensure his safety from the one who possesses the most danger—my father, Trigon.

But Damian wasn’t alone, he had Dick. I had reminded Damian that once, and the feelings he felt at that moment made me never mention Dick again in correlation to Damian’s fear of losing me. This past year, I had felt so many awful emotions and situations, but that moment, when I told him he still has Dick and if he lost me--Dick would still be there. That moment—that moment had a nuance that cannot be compared to other awful feelings. Recalling it made me feel like I was falling for a moment. It made me feel guilty.

I look at Damian, whose head was on my lap. We were under the shade of a tree. You could say we were on a date; but these moments were frequent. And as Damian have confided in me, not as special as being able to bring me to dinner to meet his entire family. Or being able to flaunt me to the world, or simply book an entire five-star restaurant just for us two. And I see his point—but I also see that he just missed his family and friends. And that small guilt that he wouldn’t be with me had the situation not turn sour for the entire world. I felt the anger he had for himself for not understanding his feelings sooner and not having the courage to say them.

I stroke his hair; his eyes were closed because this was the few moments he could truly relax. And I understood clearly his desire to show the entire world of the amazing girl he—Damian Wayne—fell hopelessly in-love with. And I froze from stroking his head and I close my eyes.

“You see me too highly, my love.” I couldn’t help but whisper as a gust of wind muffle my words and as I put him on a slightly deeper sleep.

A few days later, Damian and I were alone together doing some reconnaissance. I was ahead of him but we were still at the forest outside the league’s outpost. We have kept parademons at bay with a relatively big radius away from the outpost and right now we were in the safe zone. We also had to distract the parademons from coming closer to the outpost every now and then.

“Raven.” He had called out to me. I turn to look at Damian he was about five meters away from me. I look at him confused.

“I have something to tell you.” He approached me cautiously. I couldn’t help but furrow my brows. A moment ago, I was focus on the recon task and had reinforced my empathetic shield heavily because of it. Despite it almost being two years since the attack, the animosity, grief and hopelessness that plague the world remained, and it can become rather overwhelming for me. The change of tone from Damian baffles me.

“Okay. What is it?” I ask him as I walk towards him. He was making me worried. My father snickers.

“I love you.” He says as he stopped a meter away from me, I took one last step in front of him. I was so confused and worried that I decided I have to put down my empathetic shield. It was the only thing that would bring me peace of mind because his putting me on edge.

“Will you marry me?” He says at the exact time my shield went down. I gasped overwhelmed. I felt his love for me as he said those four words, and I was blind sided by it. It wasn’t what I expected to feel-- or hear. But I felt his overflowing love for me.

“Don’t you dare say yes!” It sounded like a screech and I closed my eyes and tilt my head a bit because of my father.

“I know we are still just teens. I’m still eighteen and your nineteen, but I don’t want anymore regrets.” The love he had for me had turned into fear. And I knew why he was afraid; he had told me about them before.

“I know I said we would keep it slow, and go through us step-by-step to be able to appreciate each other’s company. But we also both feel like were always standing on an edge of a cliff, just waiting to be pushed by strong winds. And I—” His rumbling is stopped as he took in a sharp breath, I could tell he was struggling but I couldn’t help by smile at him with love in my heart that felt like it would burst. “I don’t want to regret not being able to call you my wife.” Hearing those words made me gasp.

Those words, I exhale softly, changed the fear to that same overwhelming intensity of the love he had for me. And I bit my lips trying to contain the tears wanting to fall.

“Don’t you dare!” A scream from my father as I nodded repeatedly, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t even seem to form the words. Yes. I couldn’t help but put my face into my palms, wanting to hide my pathetic self from Damian.

Overwhelmed. I have used that word so many times and it meant so many different things. But this time, this overwhelming moment—this was more than all the other overwhelming moments I have ever had. This moment—is what I never ever want to forget. The love I feel for this man—I never ever want to forget.

“Raven?” Damian said his breath just above my head, his hands gently pulling my hands away from my face. I look at him and looking into his eyes made me hold my breath. His emotions dancing around me like fireworks. He wipes away my tears and I decided to stop crying.

“Yes.” I whisper and he smiles. I could tell he knew from my reaction that it was a yes as our eyes continue to be locked with one another, more so I could feel he knew my answer. I give him a sudden hug. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!” I repeat, finding that I need to say those words. Yes.

“Yes.” He whispers into my ear as he embraces me back and does a little spin. I felt his joy and his love—and somehow it became ours. I pulled away from him and collected myself, I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat.

“The-the ring!” He rumbles around his body and I felt his nervousness. “This-this wasn’t how I wanted to propose.” He admits and I can’t help but giggle at his current dorkiness. My heart felt so full.

“But-but as I was looking at your back—I knew I had to ask now. I had everything planned and all.” That was why I could not seem to find him often these last few days. I wondered when he decided that he had to propose marriage to me.

He pulls out a blue velvet box from his pocket and he opens it and there laid a ring. The metal was mostly gold but in the center of the band, there was a thinner line of silver. And there laid an emerald the exact shade as his eyes in seemed to be embedded in the relatively thick band. I glance at him—specifically his eyes to confirm. Yes, exactly his eyes, I look back down at the ring as he pulled it out of the box with his right hand.

The emerald was maybe just less than three centimeters in all sides of its square-like shape, the edges of the square rounded. And I had lifted my left hand as I take the box from him with my right hand. He uses his freed left hand to hold my right hand.

“I was going to kneel down and all.” He says as he slips the ring into my finger. And I chuckled, envisioning Damian pacing as he recites his every move for his proposal. “But I knew that I need to ask now.” And I felt his serenity at the decision, and it took my breath away.

“So, I suppose the recon mission is a ruse?” I look at him and he places a hand behind his neck as he looks away.

“Well, actually we still have to do that.” And I couldn’t help but laugh, it sounded so melodious. I was rather embarrassed by it and so I turned around from Damian and took a few steps and stopped. I was so happy that my laughter could not hide it.

“I suppose you have thought about this right?” I turn around to face Damian and he looks at me questioningly and I pointed to the gem on my forehead. His face twisted and crunched up and I laughed whole-heartedly. He had completely forgotten.

“We-well. I—” He looks away. “I did not get to think of that part yet.” He blushes and I smiled, and I raised my hand still holding the box.

“We can totally make use of this.” I grin as my father yells.

“Well, let’s go, my love.” I turn again. I realized that my father must have been yelling as Damian proposed but I could not recall if he was. I must have been too happy with the turn of events that his voice was completely blocked out.

“I will kill him. Raven.”

“No, Father. I won’t allow it.” I say under my breath.

Damian and I were at the underground caves facing each other. On my left was an altar with a huge old book that was opened and facing us. There were two equally old looking candles on either side of the book providing light aside from the candles, there were torches around the cavern.

A silver chalice with some liquid I could not identify in front of the book. And in front of that is the ring Damian used to propose to me on top of a small green cushion. Beside my ring is another ring with a similar style as mine, but bigger and catered for a man with an amethyst instead of an emerald on it. The exact same color as my eyes, I couldn’t help but marvel at the shade.

He wore his league of assassin’s uniform but with a red cape. I was told a little after I arrived, that normally the cape should be green. But Damian opted for the red to pay homage to his robin identity. And I wore the same armor but with a purple cape to pay homage to my hero identity. Starting today this is my new uniform, we were a couple in matching clothes.

Damian sighs and looks at his surroundings. I could feel his disappointment, he glance at Lady Shiva and I could feel the knot on his chest. He continues to gaze at his guests, Titus and Dick being one of them as I observe him. The select were here as witnesses. He looks at me with remorse.

“I know this isn’t much, and not what you deserve but--” I look at him and gave him an encouraging smile. “Writing our names on this book is just as binding as having a marriage certificate. Which in the state of the world we cannot have. Well, I mean we can-- we just can’t have the necessary signatures for legalization, not that there is anyone to process the papers.” He sighs ending his rambling. Probably thinking how foolish he sounded.

“I get to marry you, that is what matters to me.” I say as I reach out for his left hand with my right, fighting the laughter bubbling in me because of how adorable he was and because this was a serious moment. He smiles at me and he leans his forehead on mine, he closes his eyes and I close mine.

“If there is another life, I will get married to you in the grandest way to compensate for this.” I really wanted to laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes, if there is.” I whispered back and he probably did not think much about it and I place a peck on his lips. He opens his eyes, startled as I pulled my head away from his.

“Damian Al-Ghul,” I say firmly “Wayne.” I whispered so softly. “Marry me.” And his eyes sparkle and he chuckles. He places his name on the book and signs it, and I do the same.

“Our names have been written in the sacred book. This marriage is binding and our witnesses can testify to this union. Our names have been placed with our ancestors and will be seen by our descendants. They will remember our names for they are written within this book. You and I will be remembered for all generations to come. You are an Al-Ghul and you are part of thy legacy.” He recites.

This was one of those moments I get to glimpse the Damian who follows the leagues tradition strictly.

“I have shed my former name and have forgotten who I was. All I am and all I know is—when I had awoken, I am part of thy legacy. I am an Al-Ghul. My ancestors are written within this book and my descendants will know who I am. I have always been and always will be an Al-Ghul.” My father must be screaming but I could not hear him because I warded the gem on my forehead. He was not going to ruin this moment for me.

He takes my ring and places it on my finger and I put his ring on his finger.

“And now, the chalice.” He says as we both reach for the chalice, his hand overlapping mine.

“As you give me blood,” He continues as we brought the chalice to my lips and I took two gulps of the liquid. Azar, I hope this isn’t actually blood. Damian had reassured me this is all formalities, but this does not exactly taste like juice.

“And as I give you blood.” I say as we guide the chalice to his lips and he takes two gulps too, and we both place it down on the altar.

He had said that it was laced with a special aphrodisiac and explained to me the details. It did not have an automatic effect though. The giving of blood was to represent a child born from both parties—but Azar the liquid really did not taste like wine or juice.

“We are now officially married.” He announces to the handful of witnesses. “Now the witnesses will sign on the book.”

After they finished signing the witnesses left to wait with the other members of the league. Damian and I stayed a little bit longer by the altar.

“That was not how I wanted to say my vows.” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine.

“Hmm… I think it was interesting.” I reply. “Slightly cult-ish” He chuckles.

“Raven.” He looks at me intently and pulls his head away by a few inches. He puts his callused hands on either side of my face.

“I love you, and I trust you. I am honored to be called your husband. I am honored to be able to walk this path with you. Words can never express how much I love you.” And I felt his love, I take his hands off of my face and brought them to my chest.

“Damian Wayne.” Silence and I can feel his expectancy. “I can tell you for a fact: that exact feeling you are feeling-- is what I feel for you.” I hear him gasp his lower lip twitching. “I love and trust you as you do—exactly as you do.”

And I could feel that he believes me. Maybe it was because I am an empath and he knew that well. He will always be assured that I feel the same way he does for me—because I actually feel his love for me.

I put my right hand on his cheek and bring him close for a kiss. He kisses be back as he put his right hand on my left cheek. Our left hands still holding one another, the back of his left hand against my beating heart. And I’m sure he can tell how much it was racing. I wonder if he can feel how full it is too.

Two years after the attack, Superman with Constantine and Etrigan comes looking for Damian. And I had allowed them to be here, just to tell us that Damian might be the key to turning the tides against Darkseid.

Shit. What am I going to do!

I had said we will think about it instantly after their revelation of their intentions. But—I have to tell him. I arrived at our bedroom and closed the door. My eyes adjusting to the darkness but I walk to the chair I know was facing the door. I have been sleeping in this room long enough to know where everything was with my eyes closed.

In the dark I allow my thoughts to run wild. I was nervous, yes.

“I have something to tell you.” I whisper as I put my forehead against Damian’s.

This was the second time I had repeated the same line, he must be confused.

“Whenever I disappeared whenever we do missions, or when I do solo missions. It’s because I was looking for spells.” And Damian stays quiet allowing me to give my explanation.

“These spells Damain…” I look at him wanting to just cry and scream. “The first ones I learned are ones to block my father, to make sure he does not know what I am doing. And it works, but the main spells I was really looking for, they are for you.” I gaze at him to observe his reaction but he doesn’t look and feel upset. “I had slowly used them on you, when we got married that gave me an opportunity to lay everything down. I could do longer spells. But this spell…” I look away feeling so guilty of what I have done. I feel his callused hands touch mine, and I look at him, and he gave me a smile—he was still not upset. He was just patient.

“The spell.” I continue our eyes locked with one another “It is a very convoluted spell. It covers and overlaps so many factors. It is a spell made of other spells. It is risky and dangerous—” The word made me gasp knowing very well what I had done, but Damian just hugs me. His love for me was still the same despite what I have already said.

“I risked our lives to bind ourselves to each other. I did it to protect you from my father.” He pulls away, and for a moment I was afraid that he was finally upset. I look up at him with wide eyes. But he just looks down on me with a soft smile.

“If I could, beloved. I would lock you up if that will ensure your safety.” He confesses as he leans his forehead against mine again, his eyes closed. “I told you long ago and repeated it when we got married and after—and despite this revelation—still remains true. I trust you. And will always love you. No matter what.”

“You’ve always been so patient with me.” I tell him as he pulls away again.

“Nonsense, it is you, who have been patient with me.” Again, his adoration for me radiated from him, it was still the same. But the moment Superman told us his plan, I knew that everything has changed. The happy life we have been living has finally come to an end.

“I can never be upset or hate you for what you did. You made a good choice, beloved.” And that was that, on the revelation, Damian had already put his foot down on the matter. He could never be upset over what I had done. I was worried for nothing. I couldn’t help but smile.

“We have to go.” I say.

“Yes.” He replies instantly and a moment of silence is shared between us. We both know what we have to do the moment Superman asked. It was just I had not been completely honest with my precious husband.

“I am glad I proposed to you when I did. I have no regrets, Raven. These past two years felt like we were already married. And being able to make it official, in the only way we could—that makes me the luckiest man in this apocalyptic world.” His gaze on me was gentle.

“I am glad that we got married, my love.” I stroke his jawline with my right thumb. “I was wrong, I thought I could never feel family love after I lost my mother. And I sought out love from my demon of a father as replacement. I had the team-- but it was just ever so slightly different. But now—” I return his gentle gaze.

“Now, I can say: that this was the family love I have been yearning for.” I bring his head closer to mine, and he brings our lips closer. And we shared a passionate kiss.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Raven, hurry up we have a new member coming!” I heard Garfield yell from outside my door. I give him a hurried reply and I prepared myself to meet the new member.

“Meet at the yard!” Garfield yells outside my room.

When I got to the yard the Batmobile was coming to view from a far. I felt a tug on my heart, I couldn’t help but frown.

“Is Dick the surprise, Kori?” I couldn’t help but ask. And she looks at me with a smile.

“Of course, not silly! Don’t you remember? Today we are going to take in a new member—I told you all about this a few days ago.” The car had stopped in front of us and the doors opened. I saw black hair and my heart skipped a beat. “The new Robin, Damian.”

A boy with black hair stood before us in his Robin uniform. And my heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. And my eyes couldn’t help but follow a certain person’s black hair.

Part 4: Teaser

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taebinzdimples · 5 years ago

Text

You are the Father

Pair: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon had been your boyfriend for four years and your now husband for three. He was winding down from his American Tour and it was their last one before their band disbanded. As hard as it was for him, he was ready to stay home and start a family. You couldn’t be happier to tell him the news.

Warnings: There isn’t really any except form pregnancy talk, smut and, small celebratory sex.

A/N: I got this idea from @amethysthope and I just had to write it! The idea of Namjoon as a father has been gut wrenchingly soft so I hope you guys enjoy!

When you first met Namjoon, you never knew just how drastically he would change your life. Meeting through your mutual friend, Jimin, it was hard to keep you two away from each other after that. “Love at first sight” most would say. You had to agree. Something drew you to him instantly and he to you.

The band life and schedule made Namjoon hesitant for date you at first, and it scared you as well. However, after a year of flirting, talking, small dates, and just about everything else, you two decided to make it official. At first the fans were skeptical, but they wanted Namjoon to be happy and he was with you. Eventually, you learned to get over the press, the fans, pretty much everything, and accept that your boyfriend was an Idol and he loved it.

It was three months after Namjoon had returned from a tour and asked you to marry him. Now three years later, you’re married and BTS is wrapping up the last of their tour. It was late and you knew Namjoon would try to call when it wasn’t drastically late into the night to talk to you. They had two more cities to play before he came back and BTS would be done.

It was a sad thought to think about. You watched them because of Jimin and they were the reason you got together with Namjoon in the first place. To see them no longer together broke your heart. But, time moves on, and there are just some things we cannot control.

You laid in bed watching tv when your phone began to buzz. You should’ve been sleeping, but you really missed him. “Joonie.” You said playfully as you answered. He smiled softly at you through though the camera lens and it made your heart swoon. “Hey (y/n), how are you doing?” He asked as he set his phone down so he didn’t have to hold it.

“I’m okay. Really missing you.” You told him as he nodded. “I agree, I miss you too. But, I’ll be home Saturday, so you don’t have to wait much longer.”

The thought of having your husband back home and in your arms was teasing to your heart. He smiled at you and you watched the dimples in his cheeks become deeper. God you loved those dimples. It was the first thing you noticed about him. The day you walked into the practice room to grab Jimin for lunch, Namjoon had been laughing at something one of the other members had said and from there you were in love.

It was silent for a moment when Namjoon spoke again. “(Y/N), I’ve been thinking..” He started slowly watching you as you nodded. “What is it love?” You asked seeing the look on his face.

“Well,” He continued, “I was thinking, when I get back, do you think we could start our family?”

This shocked you. Not because you weren’t ready or anything, mainly it was just because you didn’t think he would ever bring it up. You had mentioned it a few times here and there to each other, but with his busy schedule, you didn’t want to start until it was all said an done. You didn’t want to raise a child alone.

Your heartbeat began to race and your smile was big. “Of course Joonie. I would love to grow our family.” You told him happily and his dimpled smile for bigger. “Really?” He asked you and you nodded excitedly. “Yes! Namjoon that’s all I’ve wanted since I met you. You, me, a baby or two, and a dog of course.” You giggled. Namjoon wasn’t always so big on the dog idea, but he loved you so much, he would do it if it made you happy.

“Then when I get back, prepare for all the sex you can possibly have.” He smirked at you and you just laughed shaking your head.

—-

Saturday.

Today was the day. Namjoon’s flight would be in soon and you couldn’t wait to see him. You had cleaned your penthouse a million times over, even if Namjoon had hired someone to do it for you. You didn’t care. You had to distract yourself. You had taken every calculation to make sure you could get pregnant. Within the week, you had went to the OBGYN to make sure you were able to conceive and bear children, as well as make sure you wouldn’t have any pregnancy risks.

You had tracked your ovulation every single day and this week was perfect. Your ovulation cycle would end Monday, so the gap wasn’t particularly big but enough to at least try. You had also made sure to buy some early response pregnancy tests. You weren’t going to be upset if it didn’t happen right away, but you were just happy to try.

3:00pm.

Namjoon would be home any minute. You had offered to go to the airport to pick him up but he had told you that Jin was going to drop him off. They had one final meeting before the final goodbye. It wasn’t like they were saying goodbye to each other, just go-go life they had experienced.

Suddenly you heard keys jingling. Your heart began to race. The door knob turned and you stepped into the middle of the way as Namjoon looked up seeing you. The tears in his eyes were obvious and you could tell it was hard. It hurt because you knew he was saying goodbye to his family and that was the hardest thing to experience.

He walked over to you and pulled you in his arms as you wrapped your around his neck. He was taller than you, so you had to stretch and stand on your toes a bit. “God I missed you.” He said burying his face in your neck. You inhaled his scent as you held him. “Me too.”

—-

You sat at the table eating as he talked about the final leg of the tour, and what went down at the studio before he came home.

“They said in maybe three years, we can talk about a small reunion or something. I think we’re all just happy to have our own time and work on ourselves.” He said stuffing a bit of ramen into his mouth. You nodded. You didn’t really understand how this stuff worked, but then again, you weren’t a K-POP idol.

You could see the tiredness in his eyes as you watched him. You didn’t realize how long you had been staring until he called you on it. “Do I have noodle on my face?” He smirked tilting his head. This made you chuckle but you shook your head. “Not at all, I’m just excited to have you home and to myself.” You cooed softly.

He stood up coming over to you pulling you towards him. “I didn’t forget you know. I still want to start our family.” He said softly putting his forehead to yours. “I know. I just didn’t want to make you feel like we had to try right now.”

You put your hand on his face cupping his cheek. The feel of his skin beneath yours had your body igniting with a burning fire. He looked at you as you made your way to his hair feeling the softness of it between your fingers. You had this man memorized like your favorite and you knew exactly what ways to touch him before he caved.

His breathing became softly staggered but you could tell. He leaned down pressing his lips to yours as you let out a small moan. You missed him. Eight months he had been gone, and eight months you had to take care of yourself. Toys weren’t as fun as the real thing.

The kiss became heavier and sloppier and you needed this man now. Like,

Right now.

You broke the kiss as you took his hand leading him to the bedroom. Of course, you had a plan of action. You wore his favorite bra and pantie set, and even cleaned yourself up a little. You had lacked in the shaving department for the past month, and your toenails and fingernails lacked a good mani-pedi.

All these things you wanted to have done because you wanted it to be perfect. Of course, you knew Namjoon didn’t care about that stuff, but you wanted this to be perfect for you too. He slowly lifted your shirt up as his fingers teasingly touched your skin.

Your body shook from the small intimate touch, but you were ready to give into any desire he asked of you. He threw your shirt god knows where into the room, and your hands were reaching for him. He didn’t stop you. You undid every button, but slowly as your anticipations made the heat for each other grow. He stood before you shirtless, his broad chest heaving as he took each breath. His shoulders broad in all of their glory.

He drank you in. The beautiful white lace accented your skin and the way your stomach was flat and toned. You had silently thanked him for getting you a trainer. You never needed one before, but you always wanted to keep up with Namjoon when it came to certain things, and sex was one of them.

The kiss had picked up the intensity that it left in the kitchen and Namjoon was practically ripping your pants off before you could even blink. He laid you down as his body weight sank you into the mattress. It was just you in your bra and panties, and Namjoon in his boxers. You needed to be closer. You needed to feel his skin touching you. You were craving it like a ravenous dog who hadn’t eaten in months.

He moved his wet kisses down to your neck as you moved your head to the side to give him more access. He moved up to your earlobe lightly tugging on it. Your moaned. It was one of your sweet spots and he knew it. Even tortured you with it from time to time. You moved your hand down and palmed him through his boxers. “Fuck.” He hissed as he felt your hand on him.

Your body arched in response to his harsh wording. Namjoon rarely cussed, and when he did, it was usually because your mouth was wrapped around him giving him blowjobs. Finally, you were both naked and his head was between your thighs.

You didn’t want to wait, you were practically dripping from how bad you wanted him, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. “Patience (y/n), I want to take our time. We have all night.” He teased as he flicked his tongue against your clit. Your back arched and he smirked. What a beautiful view he had of you. “Namjoon,” You groand. “Please.”

You hated begging, but you missed him. It wasn’t even about trying to get pregnant, you just needed him. Of course, your cries were ignored as he comtimued working you over with his tongue. You felt a finger enter you and your toes curled. Gripping the sheets, you put your head back. He worked you over and it was driving you crazy.

“Don’t come.” He commanded and that made you almost smack him.

“Namjoon, either you fuck me, or you let me come.” You retaliated. You weren’t in the mood for games tonight. It’s been eight months and all you want is to be fucked into next week by your husband. You felt him stop and your head was spinning. Being brought close to your climax then pulled away from it was making you mad.

“Nam-“ You were cut off by your own cry as he entered you. The sound that escaped Namjoon’s mouth drove your senses mad. Your husband was the sexiest man alive, and you had him all to yourself. “Oh my god.” He groaned as he started moving in you.

You felt a small pain since it had been awhile, but soon it subsided and your body was responding to every single bit of him. You were gripping the sheets, your body was arched, your head was back, and you were in ecstasy. You pulled him down to you as you kissed him. It was sloppy and needy but you didn’t care. The small clashing of your teeth against him only turned you on more.

He was hitting you g-spot over and over. He was angled so perfect and it was making your body start to shake. You knew this wouldn’t last too much longer because, your husband had been gone, there was only so much you could do yourself.

“Fuck Namjoon! I’m so close!” You whimpered as he wrapped your leg around his waist. He went deeper hitting you in just the right way as he smirked. “Come for me (y/n).” He grunted. You couldn’t hold it back much longer, you had to release. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He warned and that was all it took before you exploded around him.

Your cries probably had been heard through the whole penthouse, and you were silently thankful that you had given your housekeeper the night off. You made a mental note to take of the sheets tomorrow.

Riding out your orgasm and Namjoon came. He stayed in you for a moment to recover before pulling out. The feeling was bittersweet. He moved climbing into the bed as he pulled you to him. “I missed you (y/n), so fucking much.” He said putting his nose into your hair. “I love you.” He spoke softly.

“I love you too Joonie.” You said softly before you both passed out.

—

1 month later.

You sat in the doctors office waiting as you sat in the gown. You had taken multiple tests and all of them, except two, had come out negative. You were confused. You and Namjoon had been going at it like rabbits and only two tests came out with plus signs.

Jimin shuffled in the chair next to you. You were going to ask Namjoon to come, but you hadn’t told him about any of the tests because you didn’t want to disappoint him. “What if you’re not..you know..?” Jimin asked as you internally groaned. Maybe you should’ve asked Namjoon to come with.

“That’s why I’m here Jimin. To get a finalized answer.” You replied. Before Jimin got another word out, there was a knock. The doctor stepped in and she gave a bright white toothed smile. “Are you (y/n)?” She asked and you nodded. “That’s me.”

“And is this the father?” She asked shaking Jimin’s hand. He chuckled and shook his head. “No ma’am, I’m just here for emotional support.” He told her and she nodded. “Of course. Well, the results came in from the test. It came up positive.” She said happily and that made your heart beat quicken.

“Really?” You asked practically falling off the small bed and she laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just, all of my other tests came out negative except too. I thought maybe the two positives were possibly false.” You explained and she nodded. “Of course. Lucky for you, all of our tests are 98% accurate, so you should have a healthy baby in you.”

Your stomach burst into butterflies. Before we begin, I just need you to fill out this paperwork which just states you’re okay with the ultrasound.” She explained. You nodded taking the papers and reading them quickly over before signing.

She took the clipboard back as she set it down slipping on her gloves. “Alright, I’m going to apply some gel to your lower stomach area. It’s going to feel a bit cold.” She warned you. You took a deep breath as she rolled up the gown a bit before applying the gel. Your body jumped in response and you felt your cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry.” You apologized and the doctor chuckled. “It’s a normal response, don’t apologize.” She said lightly.

She took the probe and began running it over where she put the gel. You watched the monitor and saw nothing but basically grey. The doctor searched and finally landed on something. “Ah, there you are.” She said softly as you looked at the screen. “Where?” You asked as she looked at you then back to the screen. “Well, this little bean right here is your baby.” She said leaning forward touching the area of where the baby was sitting.

You felt your stomach drop. Holy shit. It was a little bean.

Jimin leaned forward scaring you a little since you had basically forgotten he was in the room. “Holy cow (y/n). You really are pregnant.” He said taking your hand and you squeezed. You all watched the monitor as the bean sat there minding it’s own business.

When it was finished, you cleaned up the gel and got dressed. The doctor had went to print the pictures and you were in complete awe. You were pregnant. Not only were you pregnant, you were pregnant with Namjoon’s child.

Jimin looked at you before asking, “Are you okay? You look like you might be sick.”

You chuckled softly shaking your head. “No, I’m okay. I’m just shocked. I really was scared that I might not be pregnant.” You told him honestly and he nodded. “Really (y/n), congratulations. You and Joon are going to be great parents.” He said touching your shoulder. You hugged him happily.

You just wondered how you were going to tell Namjoon.

—

When you arrived back home, Namjoon was nowhere to be found. You had heard some music playing from his little studio he had made and went to see him. He was working on making a new track and you didn’t want to mess with him. Even if he wasn’t in a band anymore, he still had work for do. He was still an artist and loved to write lyrics. You knew he would either collaborate on songs, or sell the ones he wrote.

You snuck back down the hallway and headed to your room. You set the bag of stuff down that you had grabbed on your way home and took a deep breath. Placing a small hand on your stomach, you smiled.

Pregnant.

You were actually carrying a child. You took out the small box and placed the baby onesie inside and the picture on top of it. You closed it and tied the bow neatly. You went to your bedside table grabbing a pen and grabbing the card you began to write.

“The only thing better than having you as my husband is..

Having you as the father of our child.

Baby Kim due in 9 months.”

You clicked the cap shut on the pen and took some tape before taping the small card to the box. You walked back down to the hall where you heard the music still going. You knew it would be a little but before Namjoon found the box outside of his door, but you were just happy to be able to tell him in some way.

You had just finished showering up. You pulled your towel around you before sliding the door open. You didn’t heard the music playing anymore but you didn’t think much of it. He was probably writing anyway. You walked to your bedroom as you stopped seeing Namjoon sitting on the bed with the box in his hands. Your heart was pounding.

“Joonie?” You said softly as he looked up. “Is it true?” He asked as he looked at you. You bit the bottom of your lip as you nodded. “It’s true.” You said softly. He set the box down before standing up and walking towards you. “You’re really pregnant?” He asked almost in disbelief but it was more shock and happiness mixed into one. You nodded again and he pulled you to him.

“I’m really going to be a father?” He asked you and you slightly chuckled. “That is what you wanted isn’t it?” You teased. He moved to look at you and nodded. “More than anything in the world.”

You saw the look in his eyes and before you could react, his lips were on yours. The heat between you two picked up quickly and you were on the bed. He didn’t hesitate with his pants before spreading your legs and entering you.

Your groaned as you felt him fill and stretch you. “Namjoon..” You panted as he thrusted into you. “You’re all mine baby.” He smirked at you. And you were, you were always his. From day one you had always known that this man...

Was the love of your life.

—

2 years later.

You were sitting on the floor with your son, Ian. He was attempting to walk on his newly found legs that he didn’t know he had. It made you giggle as he used something to balance on. He had a good mop of brown hair on his head but he had his fathers eyes. He squealed in excitement as he balanced. “Come here love!” You called to him as he squealed again.

He didn’t take more than a step before falling into his butt. It made you laugh as he stood up walking over to him. “Come here love, lets get you something to eat.” You took him to the kitchen placing him in his high chair. “Pears or bananas?” You asked him as he happily patted on the small table in front of him.

You nodded. “Bananas it is.” You agreed with the nonexistent answer that your son gave you. You had just finished grabbing the food as you felt movement in your stomach. “Hello princess.” You said placing your hand on your stomach. Six months pregnant with your second child, you couldn’t be happier.

You sat down to feed your son as the front door opened. “I’m home!” Namjoon sang which made you and your son laugh. “Da!” Ian squealed as you looked at him. “He’s home!” You said as Namjoon walked into the kitchen.

“There you three are. I thought maybe you guys had left me.” He smirked as Ian reached out for his father. Namjoon walked over picking him up as he ticked Ian’s stomach which sent him into a fit of laughter. Your heart was warm for the pair. They were bonded and it was obvious Ian would learn to be just like his father. He set him back down as Namjoon kissed you softly. “And how are my two favorite girls?” He asked placing a hand on your stomach. “She’s active today.” You told him as he smiled. “Three more months and we’ll finally get to meet her.” He said happily.

You nodded. “I can’t wait. Hopefully she won’t be as rambunctious as the little one over there.” You laughed as Ian was making a messy display of his banana food. “Well would you look at that! You’ve made quite a mess little one!” Namjoon chuckled grabbing a wet cloth to clean him up.

He walked over to Ian as he started wiping off his face. “How cute that you would act like just your dad when it comes to food. Messy.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Then it’s a good thing that you are the father.”

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naptoons · 5 years ago

Text

Official Girl— Zion Kuwonu

Warnings: mild mature language.

Theme: Angst / Fluff ??? I guess I vauguely know the diff.

Summary: you and Zion have been together for almost half a year, but it didn’t feel like it cause when it came down to the public eye, he was single. And you were just his friend.

A/N: I did not proofread any of this so if there’s some spelling errors I apologize, and I hope it isn’t cringe! Enjoy🖤

You and Zion have been dating for almost a year and to your surprise no one even knew expect the PRETTYMUCH members along with their girlfriends. Neither of your family members knew either. You had a million thoughts going through your brain debating which thought was the placebo of why he would want to hide your relationship for almost a year. Don’t get it wrong, your relationship is great, he makes you happy. But hearing him tell the rest of his friends any beanz that ‘you’re aren’t his girl’ and ‘just a friend’ kinda made you think back on the days where you were stuck in the friend zone with him.

Sighing you slouch in your chair turning in your essay. You decided to go to los angles to study for your major. You wanted to get out of your hometown experience new places and people. You met Zion through one of your friends. You’ve never even heard of ‘PRETTYMUCH’ until she showed you a few of their music videos and interviews you started to hone in on them. Next thing you knew your friend bought you guys tickets and meet and greets in los angles.

Zion had his eyes on you on and off the entire time on stage. And boy was he thrilled to see you at meet and greet. And that’s the cliché way you meet Zion and became his “girlfriend” more like “girl-friend” groaning you hop out the bed going to grab a cup of water but your phones text tone vibration on the cherry wood table stops you. Moving towards your phone you see a text from the devil himself. Crazy how the universe works.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Hey mamas you wanna go to a birthday party with me? I promise I’ll stick by you the whole night ❤️

Moral of the story to the last sentence Zion typed was prettymuch had a album release party with a lot of their friends and Zion invited you. But twenty minutes into the party Zion left you and was faded and tipsy.So you ended up taking an uber back home and went to sleep. Zion didn’t get a wink of sleep that night worrying about you.

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Hm. Fine I’ll go but you better keep your promise.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

I promise babygirl. The party isn’t until late around 8pm so I’ll come pick you up. I love you can’t wait to see your fine ass🥵

Rolling your eyes at his flirty remarks. One thing you can’t knock him for is he always reminds you how beautiful you are. Sitting your phone down you go back to the previous task, grabbing the glass and sticking it on the dispenser filling it half empty half full. Sipping on the ice cold water you make your way back to room deciding how you would kill two hours worth of time.

Waking up an hour and a half later you decided to go ahead and take a shower. While waiting for the water to heat up you grab your phone turning on your Bluetooth speaker to blare music for your invisible fans. First song to come up on shuffle was official girl by Cassie. You place your fingers in the shower feeling the warm water slide down your fingertips. Stripping out of your clothes you jump in the shower.

“You gotta love me in the light and the dark” you sung out loud. As you were singing the lyrics it resonated with your feelings towards Zion.After your quick shower you got dressed and did your hair in a style you loved. Looking at the clock wondering would Zion be on his way yet,It’s 7:30pm and he hasn’t sent a single text or call. Going to your messages you decide to text him.

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Zion what time are you coming to pick me up?

Setting your phone back down, you grab your platform boots slipping them on and tying them up. Grabbing your favorite perfume brand lathering your body up in it. fifteen minutes later and you still got nothing from Zion. You launch the Instagram app seeing Zion posted on his Instagram 3 minutes ago a screen of his monitor and fortnite asking for someone to join the lobby.

You roll your eyes wondering why you even texted him in the first place, him and fortnite have a better relationship than you and Zion. You decided to text one of the members.

[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

Hey Brandon is the party still going on tonight?

[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

. yeah , we’re actually here where are you and Zion?

[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

‘Zion’ is on fortnite rn, ill be coming in uber please give me the address🙄

[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]

. I mean you don’t have to come if you don’t want too.

It’s better to have fun, then being cooped up in the house doing nothing, what could go wrong? You though you yourself. Pulling your leather skirt down a little you stand up and place an uber order Your uber arrived twenty minutes later,On the way to the party you have been listening to music with occasionally conversations with the driver. Your phone vibrates, and from the vibrations you know who it is. And you dread wether you should reply or not.but deep down you know you can’t ignore him.

[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Yo Sorry mamas I didn’t see your text.

[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]

I’m coming to get your fine ass now🥵

[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

No worries Zion lol, I’m catching a ride to the party.

[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]

Who’s takin you?

Ignoring his question you decide to screenlock your phone and enjoy the soft ride. The ride was about an extra twenty minutes to get there but it was a pleasant ride nevertheless

Getting out of the car you thank the driver and prepare yourself for the house full of sweaty young adults, blaring loud music and the smell of different strains of weed. Pulling your skirt down a little you walk up to the door ignoring the few whistles and hollers from the drunk guys falling around and laughing on the grass. Knocking on the door you await for anyone to open the door it was starting to get a little chilly outside. “Y/N?” Someone speaks in a puzzled tone. Turning your head around your eyes are met with nick, nodding your head you step off the steps to be engulfed in a hug.

“How are you, what are you doing here by yourself?” Nick questions

“Well I’m not by myself now am I ?” You joke sarcastically, nick shows his cheeky smile while opening the door for you. Upon your sight is a house filled to the rim of people, red solo cups scattered all over the floor, multiple groups of people playing games and kissing.

“Where’s Zion?” Nick asks, while the both of you walk into the kitchen, the constant questions of “Zion” is starting to agitate you more and more. You wanted to have fun and not think about Zion. Because frankly Zion hasn’t been thinking about you. Before you could answer nick’s question soft delicate caramel tattooed arms wrapped around your shoulders with a sweet scent of strawberries and mint leaves.

“I’m here” his voice hones in on your ear lobes, his lips reaching your temple slightly and rapidly before any one could catch eyes on it “hey mamas” Zion’s voice vibrates across your skin.

“Hi” you answer softly not really wanting to talk to him you’d hoped to avoid, nick offers you and Zion a drink grabbing the shot you swallow it down like it was water. Passing the shot glass over to nick for another round.

“Woah mamas slow down okay?” Zion mumbles from behind you with his hands firmly placed on you lower back. Ignoring his comment you drink down another shot earning a “wooo” from nick as he fires you up for your last shot of the day with a slice of lime from the fridge.

“Thank you nick” you smile eating the lime in one hand and firmly grasping the cold water bottle in the other. You turn around to say something to Zion but he’s gone in the back talking to someone. you decide it’s really time to have fun since you’re “single” in the dark. Before you could head over to the dance floor a guy walks up to you with a sheepish grin. His teeth were pearly white and aligned with each other not missing a single space or gap, his skin screamed Melanin “hello how are you?” He asks very politely.

“I’m fine and you?”

“Good if you’re breathing, I was wondering would you like to have a dance? If you don’t mind” he hesitates,not even thinking of an answer you grab his hand reporting to the dance floor. (A/N i thought about the lyric from you by Lloyd ‘And uh, I want all my sexy ladies to report to the dance floor immediately’ lol sorry I may have made you cringe)

you get on the dance floor dancing to the song that’s blaring through the speakers. Taking sips from another shot you grabbed on your way to the dance floor why not? You did say you wanted to have fun. Softly the mysterious man lays his hand on your hips digging his fingertips into your waist. Even though you knew you were with Zion. You wasn’t just going to grind up on some guy even though your devil shoulder told you too.

Zion finishes his conversation with a friend he used to know in Canada, now he was on his way to look for you trying to keep his promise of never leaving tonight. Meeting nick back at the kitchen his thick eyebrows knitted in confusion. Nick not wanting to hear the anger bounce off on him, he decides to point in the direction of you and the mysterious guy. Fuming with vexation, he squeezed the bottle in his hands until his knuckles turned white. Heading over towards the problem he grab you by your arm softly but cautiously. The guy stands back smirking at the sight of a jealous Zion. while you were a bit staggering from the four shots of alcohol you took.

“Hey chill out we were dancing and having a good time!” The guy slurs his words. You started to sober up slightly at the sight of Zion’s muscles in his jawline clenching on and off his knuckles turning ghostly white as he holds in every excuse to lay this guy out with his fists. His face almost beat red.

“Have a good time with someone else not her” Zion excuses the both of you guys away from him and into a quieter location, closing the door behind him Zion let’s out a groan of frustration as his fingers roam through the tangles of his dreads. “What the fuck was that y/n?!” Zion yells but not too aggressive because even though he’s mad at you, you’re still his baby and he’ll never disrespect you.

“What ? I can’t have fun? I mean I’m not your official girl anyways” you slur your truth with hidden sarcasm. You were tipsy and when you’re tipsy the truth comes out. And in the back of your mind you knew once the truth came out things were going to change.

“Y/n what the fuck are you talking about? , of course you are my girl mamas” his tone of voice changes obviously struck by your words, not wanting to look into his eyes with your glassy eyes, you turn your head, not even batting an eye at him, you just couldn’t your heart shattered even thinking of telling him how you felt.

“No I’m not Zion” you choke at your first sentence “I’m your friend, you know the girl who hangs out with you occasionally and comes in your Instagram lives, I’m the girl you say ‘Nah she’s the homie’ I’m not your fucking girl Zion, and it’s been that way for half a goddamn year!” You bark at him, Zion tries to reach for your hands but falls short as you pull them away from his reach “ if you don’t wanna be with me tell me. If you’re embarrassed by me tell me. Fucking give me something I’m tired of being your unofficial girl” you wipe your tears heading straight for the door but Zion blocks it.

“Wait Mamas listen,” his words fall short trying to bite back the tears, his whole world crashing down in front of his eyes “i couldn’t be so fucking proud to have you as my girlfriend, you don’t understand how happy I am to hold you in my arms every fucking day, how proud I am to have you in the studio with me because that’s the only way I can work faster, babygirl you are everything and more I’ve ever needed”

“Zion this secrecy is making me feel like I’m not good enough” your voice cracks filling the room up with icy cold tension. You’re trying so hard to stop crying but you can’t, all the bottled up feelings are just slipping through the cracks. Zion rapidly walks over to you to hold you in his arms. Your brain wants to push him off,but your heart wants to be held until your cries muffled into the music in the background. His slender golden fingers hold the back of your head while the other tightly on your lower back.

“I deserve more Zion, but I don’t wanna pressure you dear, but I’m tired, I’m tired” you speak into his trashed denim jacket. You pull out of his embrace. Walking towards the door, leaving Zion in the room with his thoughts. Passing by nick and Brandon as you wiped your tears, hearing their cries of your names just makes you regret even coming to this party in the first place. The guy you danced with earlier snatches your wrist in a halt just as you were about to grab the door knob, this day just couldn’t get anymore hetic you thought.

“Babygirl.. did he make you cry?” His eyebrows knit up in a bunch, you stumble over the cups placed on the floor snatching your arms at of the young man’s grasp not before you feel an arm around your shoulder engulfing your body into his chest. “Don’t touch her got that? She doesn’t belong to you” he grits his teeth, spitting the poison out on him “oh but she belongs to you?” The guy questions trying to provoke a fight with Zion.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone she’s her own woman, but we are dating and I don’t appreciate anyone treating her less than what she is, so if you want all your bones to be intact and still have teeth to eat with tomorrow I suggest you back the fuck up” your eyes look up at the flushed pinked tint that was painted across his face the slight flinch of his muscles in his jawline.

“Can we leave please?” You plead to him and instantly he grabbed your hand taking you out the party. The ride home was slient. So many things were going on, bottled up emotions were spilled and you just thought to yourself how awkward this would be in the morning. Zion opens the door for you following right after you in the cold house. Taking off your boots you curl up on the bed shaking as the goosebumps multipled on your skin. Zion walks over to you throwing the covers over your body tucking you in like a parent to a kid.

“Can we talk about this?” Zion says breaking the ice, letting out a choked hoarse sigh

“I’m afraid too” you speak barely above a whisper hoping he didn’t catch it.

“Well then listen to me” Zion grabs your legs placing them on his thighs so his fingers hook under your calves “ I’ve never been this deep in love, everytime I get really deep into a relationship something always fucks it up, and I didn’t want anything or anyone to break us up hence why I’ve been hiding us. Specially from the media. It’s a dog eats dog world out there mamas” his fingers tapping on your now timid skin “and I don’t want you to be hurt because of my job, or those whom support and love me, their opinions won’t matter to me I don’t give a shit but I don’t want you hurt babygirl I love your smiles earlier in the morning,” Zion chokes up “ I wanna keep seeing the crinkle in your nose as you curse the sun for being bright, have you re-twisting my dreads, your sudden outbursts of Disney soundtracks”

“I cherish all that shit mamas” Zion finishes like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulder.

Your eyes begin to soften at how raw Zion is being right now. Zion was never the type to show his cards on the table. Everyone knew this. But seeing him fold like a deck of cards really breaks your heart. “I love our date nights where we just watch movies or play board games, cause it’s just us and no one to interrupt us or tell us how to love each other, but it seems I’ve hurt you more this way instead of the other way I was trying to protect you from. I’m sorry mamas” his Cinderella glass slipper eyes lays upon yours, shattering you into pieces

You never thought how hard it’s been on him to hide all of this or his reasons. You lean over to him placing your head on his chest. Playing with his fingertips. “It’s okay Zion, I understand now, I’m sorry for blowing up on you” his lips pressed on your head while his fingers caressed your waist. Your eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier before you could even hear his response. You dozed off, all the tears and alcohol felt like a melatonin. Zion took this opportunity to sneak a picture of his view to post on Instagram for the world to see. Showing you off was something he always dreamed off and right now seemed like the perfect time. “No mamas I’m sorry, but I’ll show you better than I can say it”

The next morning you woke up to your phone constantly blowing up by notifications, frowning you grab your phone deciding to put it on do not disturb until you see prettymuch fan account names liking and commenting on your posts, taking you on stories, your twitter was blowing up. Opening up Instagram you see Zion has tagged you in a post, smiling at his efforts you like the picture.

130,468 likes

zionkuwonu: I'll never diss you and I'll kiss you on your little pearl.

Maybe the talk needed to happen to move onto bigger things, before you could repost it to your story, The door swings up with Zion smiling bigger than his heart holding a teddy bear in one hand and roses and a self care basket the other. Sitting up against the headboard you accept them feeling the water build up in your eyes. “You’re right mamas, you deserve more” he leans over laying soft pecks against your lips. “And I will always give you more” his lips connect to yours again.

“So face mask night and a movie?” You squeak caressing his jawline

“It’s whatever you want to do babygirl” he mumbles, before taking another picture of you with the gifts.

You were now his official girl.

#prettymuch imagines #prettymuch #zion prettymuch #zion kuwonu #zion kuwonu imagines #zion kuwonu concepts

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago

Text

Decryption_Error: “Beneath the Bright Lights”

Summary: As the holiday season begins, Y/N sees a side of Elliot she had nearly forgotten about. However, Darlene is able to hit the reset button for her brother, and Elliot and Y/N end up having a memorable, happy holiday season.

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

A/N: ** Lines/Story credited to the show, not me.

Word Count: 9100

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106

If you want added, removed, or if I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warnings: Angst, Verbal attack, Marijuana use, Smut (18+ up, please)

Gif Credit: @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

“We could just . . . not pick her up?”

“She’ll love the organized chaos of a high-society social. Maybe she can even do some networking?”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew Elliot rolled his eyes; I chuckled and lightly smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

We were on our way to pick up Darlene before heading to my parents’ house in Greenwich to kick off the first event of the holiday social season. Every year, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, Dad hosted a party for the members of the board and his investors. It was a way to maintain relationships, form new ones, and offer a thank you to everyone who helped with the company’s growth.

The general public was committed to its characterization of what it was like to be an owner of a company on Wall Street—bouncing from meeting to meeting before sitting in an office to bark out orders like a ringmaster in a circus, whose priority was not to entertain but to squeeze the most money out of every person in the tent or to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every employee. In reality, owning a company meant maintaining a huge social jerk, a near-constant stroking of egos in order to reassure some of the most insecure people, who also happened to be some of the most wealthy people, that you weren’t going to lose the most important thing to them: their money.

This party was especially important because Dad was announcing his retirement. Normally, this created a drop off in stocks because people panicked. Out with the stability they had always known and in with something new. If there was anything people with money hated (aside from parting with it), it was change.

And Elliot wasn’t interested in any of it—he didn’t understand the need for it. Or perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, but that he didn’t approve of it and was not willing to risk hurting my feelings to say so.

I had just returned from a business trip in Denver, and I was so insanely paranoid there would be another attack while I was gone. I was the one who had to deal with the brunt of the board and didn’t want to risk placing that kind of pressure on the new Senior Manager, JaLeah, or even Ali. But as of this evening, there were no further cyberattacks on our company. In fact, DoS attacks were down by 15%. Typically, there are surge of attacks close to the holidays like there had been on the Fourth of July.

Elliot’s voice startled me out of my thoughts, asking, “How many people are going to be there?”

“Many, many people, but since it’s at our house, you can hide in my room when you’ve had enough. You look handsome, by the way.”

He was wearing light gray pants, a nice slim-fit chino. He had donned a navy sweater over a white dress shirt and tamed his hair into a side part. He looked nice, normal, at least in the way I knew he envisioned normal.

He reached over and took my hand, pulling it into his lap so he could lace his fingers through mine.

“I missed you.”

“It’s a shame we have to spend my first night back surrounded by other people.”

“Are you tired?”

“Exhausted,” I breathed as I pulled in front of the building where Darlene was staying and threw my flashers on while we waited for her to come out. She wasn’t long, and I reached behind my seat to fish in my overnight bag for the black heels I promised her.

Darlene had her hair pulled up in a ballerina bun and her makeup looked flawless. Her dress was black, fitted, and fairly short with long, lace sleeves. She was currently accessorizing it with a worn pair of high-top chucks.

“You look gorgeous—even with the chucks,” I said as I dangled my heels. “These are the ones you tried on the other night.”

“Perfect,” she mumbled as she unlaced her shoes.

“Feeling conservative, tonight?” Elliot smirked as he peeked around his seat.

“Shut your face, Sweater Vest,” she retorted without looking up.

“I’m not wearing a sweater-vest.”

“Whatever, Mr. Tanner. Isn’t this what rich people look like? Basic black and heels and shit?”

“Is that what I look like to you?” I asked mildly offended and majorly concerned that I looked like a caricature.

Neither Elliot nor Darlene said anything for so long I actually guffawed.

Elliot laughed softly and pulled our still laced together hands to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my wrist.

“You look good. You always look nice.”

“Mmm,” I said, unconvinced as I pulled my hand from his grasp to put the car in drive.

We chatted on our way out of the city, mostly about the party and about our childhood Thanksgivings. I found myself scaling back the details of my own in the event that it would seem obnoxiously normal; I didn’t want to feel like I was throwing my happy childhood in their faces. However, it did seem they had some normality with Angela and her parents, always ditching their own house in favor of hers, especially before her mom died.

When we crept up the drive, the party was already in full swing in the heated tents in the backyard, so I pulled into the garage so we could sneak in our bags. The house was full of caterers and servers, so we quickly dashed upstairs.

I flicked on the light to Charlie’s room, which was closest to mine, and Darlene threw her bag on his bed, her eyes taking in the bedroom.

“If you ever need a house sitter, I better be your first call.”

“My parents are actually downsizing their place in the city and moving out here. I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but tonight’s the night Dad announces his retirement.”

“Is that, like, a big deal?” Darlene asked.

“For several million reasons, it is.”

Darlene nodded and said she was going to use the bathroom, if she could find it, she muttered as she flicked on the light to Char’s closet.

“It’s on your other left,” I laughed as I went to my room.

Elliot was on the balcony which overlooked the party. With my heels on, I was just a bit taller than him so I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be cool with all of this? It won’t be as stuffy as the last few parties I made you go to.”

“I’m surprised the tent is big enough to house all of that ego.”

I turned into his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave.

“Because you, Mr. Hackerpants, have no ego at all,” I teased before pressing my lips to his neck.

“I don’t use my skills to rob the masses blind.”

I loosened my grip on his waist and stepped back.

“You don’t have to go. I just thought it would be nice if the family was there for Dad’s announcement.”

Even with my loosened grip, I felt Elliot’s body tense. I let him go and he turned to face me, leaning back against the railing.

“I’m family?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes because I feared his rejection when I answered, “Yeah. We consider you a part of our clan now.”

Elliot sighed and stepped forward, his finger moving to lift my chin.

His polychromatic eyes were a swirl of blue and grey tonight, making them seem almost ethereal in the flickering lights from below and the back light from my room. I couldn’t quite read his expression, which seemed to be something I struggled with a lot lately. I wasn’t sure why, but Elliot wasn’t the open book he was when I first met him. Long ago I had theorized that he hadn’t learned to guard himself from me in the early stages of our relationship, like the night we first had sex. His vulnerability had once been laid bare to me, but it was almost always gone now and I sometimes wondered if I had projected, idealized the version of Elliot I wanted to see, the version that needed me.

Elliot tilted his head slightly up and kissed me, a soft sweet kiss.

“Okay,” he whispered against my lips before he pulled away.

Darlene’s clicking heels on the hardwood floor interrupted the moment and we turned to meet her, ready to head to the party.

Dad’s announcement went over well since he said he’d remain on the board for at least two more years. His replacement was a company favorite, a man not entirely unlike Miles with his perfect reputation and his ambition to climb, but I thought he was a good choice, a safe choice.

I left toward the end of the party, my face tired from the banal talk and the even more banal smiles. When I went upstairs to my room after grabbing a spoon, a can of caviar from the fridge, and a sleeve of crackers, Darlene was laying across the end of the bed sorting a pile of business cards.

“Oh! You did some networking?” I said as I emptied my hands and reached to open the caviar. I prepped a cracker and walked over to Darlene before popping it in my mouth.

“Networking for that rich D,” she said with a smirk.

I swallowed, barely holding back a laugh, “Even better!”

I leaned over to take a look at her pile and frowned.

“Can I help?”

“Have at it,” she said as slid off the bed and headed to the caviar.

“Married. Married. Married.” I said as I tossed those cards to the side.

“This one broke Char’s heart last season, so he’s maybe bi? Maybe in denial?”

“Toss. I don’t want your brother’s sloppy seconds,” Darlene said.

“Fair enough,” I agreed as I continued. “He’s nice. Nice. Holy fuck—”

Darlene grinned like a cat as I held up the most coveted number in my social circle. Alexander Strömberg was gorgeous, perpetually single, a tech genius, and a self-made billionaire.

“He overhead me talking about cryptojacking, hypothetically, of course, and before I knew it, he was fetching me a drink and holding my elbow like I was my fair fucking lady. We talked. And we totally made out by the pool.”

I made an incomprehensible noise between a sigh and a slight moan. “He’s gorgeous. And smart as a whip.”

Darlene raised her brow, “He did say he knew you . . .”

“We’ve crossed paths over the years,” I said, looking toward Elliot who didn’t seem to be listening to a thing we were saying. “But neither of us ever made anything of it.”

Darlene finished another cracker before she gathered up her pile of business cards, throwing the ones I warned her about in the trash. She stretched and said she was going to find her way to the kitchen to find something more substantial than “fancy-ass” caviar. I gave her directions and she waved, not bothering to glance back as she headed downstairs.

I stretched out in her vacated spot and used my feet to kick off my heels. I glanced up, angling my head to look at Elliot as his fingers never paused in their trajectory over the keys of his laptop. He had dipped out not long after Dad’s announcement, and he hadn’t even glanced up when I came upstairs. His sweater had been discarded and his white button down was open, revealing his white undershirt.

“I hate these things. But I’m glad everyone knows about Dad’s retirement. I was tired of keeping that secret.”

“Didn’t look like you hated it.”

“I can assure you, I did. Now everyone thinks I’m maneuvering for a position in Dad’s company. I felt like a broken record repeating that I have no interest in leaving the tech side of things.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

I sat up on my elbows and stared at Elliot, disbelieving of his cold tone.

“What?”

Elliot huffed and looked up from his laptop, and there was an edginess in him I hadn’t seen since Sarah had texted him about the server room. Anger seemed to be surging under his skin, humming.

Elliot’s eyes locked on mine, unwavering in their brutality before they flicked to the ceiling as he leaned his head back and stated, “Why the fuck should I sit here and listen to a rich little girl complain about doing rich people things? Do you understand everyone in that room tonight could cut their salaries in half and still have more money than they could spend in a lifetime? That everyone here, at this house, your house, could effectively end the desperate paycheck-to-paycheck struggles of every person who works for them? I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired from smiling at shitty jokes and drinking expensive champagne and eating fucking caviar.”

“What the fuck, Elliot?” I said as I slid off the bed and stood, the blood rushing to my ears, roaring with the humiliation that was coloring my cheeks red.

He rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, tossing it on the bed beside him as he stood to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. I took a step back, and he didn’t even glance up as he popped the buttons and shrugged out of the sleeves.

“Elliot? Seriously! What the hell was that?”

He brushed past me and walked over to his backpack and dug out a pack of cigarettes. Without looking at me again, he went on to the balcony and lit up.

As I stood dumbfounded and staring at his silhouette, Darlene walked in, saying she forgot her phone as she walked over to my nightstand. When she processed the look on my face and read the tension in the room, she asked, “What’s up?” as her eyes looked between me and her brother on the balcony.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I looked away and moved toward my desk.

“Tell me. Please,” she added as she stepped in front of me.

“It’s nothing,” I said as I stepped around her and gathered up the caviar and crackers and tossed them into the trash, disgust churning in my gut.

“Elliot’s clearly pulled a dumbass move. If we can’t talk to each other, who can we talk to?” she pleaded, her eyes, so like his, boring into the back of my head.

I pressed my lips together and inhaled, steadying my nerves as I turned to her and explained, “He’s not . . . himself. I haven’t seen him like this for months—I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this . . . mean,” I finished as I blinked quickly, holding back tears because Elliot certainly didn’t deserve them.

Darlene frowned and for once she didn’t bite out a sarcastic remark. She seemed far away in her thoughts when she finally said, “Think I’ll have a smoke, too. You mind grabbing me a water? Sorta forgot to get one when I was talking to your parents.”

I took the hint and was relieved to get out of the room. My legs felt shaky as I made my way down the hallway, and when I descended the steps, my hand clung tightly to the rail as I continued to fight the urge to cry as Elliot’s dark words pierced through my mind, seemingly stuck in a belligerent loop.

I took a deep breath and steeled my features before I went into the kitchen and made light, normal conversation with my mom and dad.

Even after my parents said goodnight, I sat in the kitchen, replaying what Elliot said. It wasn’t the first time he had expressed himself about socioeconomic division, but it was certainly the first time I understood that he did not separate me from my parents’ wealthy status. I thought Elliot saw me just for me, but tonight proved I was wrong.

Darlene walked quietly into the kitchen and I looked up, not bothering to hide my hurt.

“Is Elliot asleep?”

“Nah. He’s waiting to see you.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t blame you, Y/N,” she said, her expression soft as she approached me. “But please don’t give up on him now. Just . . . hear him out.”

I frowned and thought about all the times I swore to myself that I’d be someone Elliot trusted, someone he could count on, someone who wouldn’t leave him.

I nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before I grabbed two waters from the fridge. The walk to my room was long as dread settled heavily in my stomach.

Elliot was sitting on the bed facing the doorway as his feet dangled off the floor thanks to the high bedframe. The first thing I noticed was that the change in his demeanor was so stark it nearly made me take a step back. Gone was the edginess, the closed off body language, the skittish glances. In front of me was the Elliot I could read like a book, and when he didn’t raise his head to meet my eyes, I knew he was in the same state of misery as I was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” his voice quiet, a deep sadness wrapping up every word.

“You hurt me.”

Elliot looked up, a flicker of relief on his face that I was being direct with him. He had trouble with ambiguity, especially when it came to feelings.

“I don’t want you to bury your feelings, ever. This life—my life—I know it fucks with your moral compass, the idea that anyone rich can’t be good. But fuck, Elliot. You really came at me, at my family, who, in case you forgot, consider you family, too.”

I was starting to feel angry.

“I know. And I am sorry.”

“I know.”

Elliot scooted forward and stood, taking a few tentative steps toward me.

“Do you have any idea what kind of people were at that party?”

“Good people. Bad people. In-between people. Money doesn’t change that.”

“Philip Price from E Corp was here.”

“Yeah? I’ve known him since I was little. E Corp financed Dad’s manufacturing plant in Colorado—the one that employs over 600 people, in case that mattered,” I sniped.

Elliot said nothing but came closer, watching my face and imploring me to remember—and then it hit me as effectively as a slap across the face.

“Your dad worked for E Corp before he got sick.”

“As a software engineer.”

Despite my anger, I softened, knowing what Elliot’s dad meant to him and to Darlene, as much as she remembered of him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s not the only one who got cancer. Angela’s mom, too. And there were over 20 others. All of them working out of E Corp’s Washington Township facility.”

I took some time to think about what I wanted to say next, my anger at Elliot continuing to recede.

“Are you saying E Corp was at fault?”

“Yes.”

“Have you . . . looked into it?” I asked, avoiding directly knowing whether he hacked the shit out of the biggest conglomerate on Wall Street.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Nothing. There’s no conclusive evidence E Corp was involved.”

I shifted my weight as I thought about whether I wanted to offer my help, the last seeds of my anger dissipating as I looked at Elliot’s sad face.

“Do you—I don’t know how far I could get, but do you want me to look into it?”

“I’ve already—"

“Sure, digitally, you’ve . . . researched it. But sometimes the paper trail can . . . disappear.”

Elliot looked at me for a long time and I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking as he formulated what he wanted to say, or rather, what he was willing to say.

“I would appreciate that.”

“Oh, Elliot,” I said as I closed the tentative distance between us and wrapped him up in a hug which he returned with equal fervor.

“I feel like I have no control sometimes,” Elliot whispered into my hair. “Everything is out of my control.”

I laughed lightly into his shoulder.

“Control is an illusion, El. No one ever really has it.”**

Elliot’s grip tightened on me, and I fell into his embrace, letting myself believe his apology and naively, so naively believe this was the last of the anger and the apologies.

* Christmas Eve *

My apartment was so hot I debated turning on the air conditioning until Elliot suggested opening the balcony door.

I flung the door open as Elliot came up behind me, pushing me onto the balcony, almost tackling me into the railing.

I laughed and he turned me around his arms, his face split into a grin as he leaned in to sloppily kiss me.

He was drunk, I was drunk, and so was everyone else still at my Christmas Eve party.

Angela and Ollie had stopped by earlier, but they had made a pretty short evening of it. I hadn’t yet clicked with Angela, mostly because she focused all of her attention on Elliot as soon as she saw him. I told him he should hang out with her more often, but a part of me was relieved when he said he really didn’t want to. I didn’t push for an explanation.

Franco and his wife, Gianna, Jill and Jack, along with Darlene and a few more friends were all in attendance. Darlene’s sometimes more-than-friend, a good-looking stockbroker, stopped by around the same time as Angela and Ollie.

Erin, Ryan, and Charlie came, and since Kathleen was on-call, Josh brought Jared and Jack, who both competed with Elliot for the attention of Jack and Jill’s dog, Robert Goulet.

My parents stopped by for a little while, insisting they weren’t going to crash the good times of “the youth” for long.

I expected Elliot to stick to either me or Darlene, but he didn’t. Instead, he spent a long time talking to Franco about his business. Elliot had said once that he would like to do that someday; start up his own cybersecurity business, land a few big clients to pay the bills, but then operate pro-bono for as many small businesses as he could.

I offered him the start-up money and he promptly looked like I had just slaughtered a bag full of puppies, so that was the end of that conversation.

Things had been normal—we had a happy thanksgiving with my family, then Elliot invited me to go with him and Darlene to visit their mother. Darlene went as far as the lobby, but I went to Mrs. Alderson’s room with Elliot. She had suffered a debilitating stroke, most likely caused by smoking, and was mostly catatonic, her eyes only occasionally flicking to Elliot as he sat with her.

Elliot and I never really talked about what happened in my room after the social, so I considered Elliot letting me in to his life by taking me to meet his mother as a way of sincerely apologizing.

But by visiting his mother, Elliot opened a door I was dying to peek into. I tried to open the door and ask more about his relationship with her, but he slammed it shut. For the past few days, I had been warring with myself with whether or not to suggest he go to therapy, and I decided my best bet was to ask Darlene what she thought he’d say if I suggested it.

It was almost 2 am when I finally kissed Jill, Jack, and Robert Goulet goodnight, but I wasn’t the last person to kiss Mr. Goulet. Elliot carried him to the elevator and I had never seen him look so adoringly at anything, but the way he looked at Robert Goulet as he handed him over to Jill was heartbreaking.

Robert Goulet didn’t help matters either by looking back, upside-down at Elliot and giving him a sad, big-eyed glance. Elliot leaned forward and smooched Robert Goulet between the eyes and Jill yelled at me to take Elliot to the shelter to pick out a puppy.

I shook my head and sighed as Elliot waved goodbye as the elevator doors shut. Jill and Jack gave a wave but I knew sure as shit that Elliot was waving at their dog.

“You can see Robert Goulet anytime you want,” I said as Elliot turned around looking sad.

“I love him.”

“I can see that.”

“He’s such a good boy.”

“He is. I take it you and Darlene never had pets?”

Elliot’s expression darkened and he shook his head no.

“Are there any Jell-O shots left?”

“If you didn’t eat them all,” I said with a laugh as Elliot headed back inside to raid the fridge.

Just as I shut the door, I saw that Darlene was shrugging into her coat. She was the last to leave, but I begged her not to.

“Don’t go. I can’t stand the thought of you not being with people who love you on Christmas morning.”

I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on mine, an unspoken question of whether I meant what I said.

“Stay,” I pressed.

“If you’re gonna be so up my ass about it,” Darlene said with the least unaggressive huff I’d ever heard, so I smiled and walked over to her give her a big hug and a loud kiss on the temple.

“Eat chips with me,” I said, grinning.

She giggled, clearly still drunk, but not quite as drunk as her brother.

“That dog is really fucking cute,” Darlene said as she gathered up the pita chips and the layered hummus dip.

“His name,” specified Elliot as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked down the last Jell-O shot, “is Robert Goulet.”

Darlene laughed at the offense dripping in Elliot’s voice.

I giggled at the two of them as I slid my chip through the dip and ended up miscalculating the dip to chip ratio, half of it landing with a splat on the floor.

“Fuck,” I said, contemplating whether I should still eat it.

“I got you,” Elliot said as he stumbled over with a wad of napkins, some of them trailing behind him as he miscalculated his hand to napkin ratio.

He cleaned up the dip and I thanked him when he came back and plopped on the sofa. His eyes immediately slid shut and he had a dreamy smile on his face as he leaned back into the cushion.

“He’s dreaming about that dog,” I loudly whispered to Darlene.

“I know,” she loudly whispered in return.

As Darlene and I chattered and ate entirely too many pita chips, she eventually looked around me to give her brother a wary eye.

“El—you alive over there?”

I turned to look as he jumped a bit at being addressed and vaguely hummed in response.

“Go to bed, dork,” Darlene barked as Elliot opened his bloodshot eyes.

He shuffled to the edge of the couch and looked around like he had forgotten where he was.

“Those Jell-O shots are lethal,” I said with a grin. “And you had a whole fucking tray’s worth when you weren’t laying on the floor with Robert Goulet.”

“Robert Goulet,” Elliot sighed with a half-smile as he shook his head and stood, stumbling just a little.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he wobbled. “Night.”

We watched Elliot walk in a semi-zigzag down the hall. There was a questionable thump that caused us to giggle loud enough before Elliot swung the bedroom door shut.

“Guess he’s alright,” I said at the end of my laugh.

“He’s fine,” Darlene said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I said as I moved into Elliot’s spot, stretching my legs out.

“Thanks for asking me to,” Darlene said with a soft smile that looked just like her brother’s.

“Water?” I asked, reluctantly swinging my feet off the couch.

“I think it’s about that time,” she said, laying her head back on the couch, again, much like her brother.

I glanced up at the TV as I walked back into the living room and handed Darlene a bottle of water. The TV was still softly playing Christmas songs as a fire burned on the screen.

The fake fireplace made me realize it was awfully chilly, and I walked over to shut and lock the balcony door.

When I sat down, I looked at Darlene who had turned her head to watch my movements.

“Spill. You look like Elliot—I can see the indecisive hesitation just about making your head ready to pop off.”

“I don’t know if I’m not drunk enough or if I’m too drunk to ask.”

“That serious? Gotta be about my bonehead of a brother. I swear to god if you’re thinking about breaking up with him, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Kick his ass?” I laughed.

“Yes—because somehow I know he’ll end up fucking this up. Not to, like, shit on your relationship because I hope to fuck he doesn’t fuck it up, but I’m just saying—”

“I know what you mean. You’re a good sister. And a great friend.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Y/N. Spill.”

I took a long drink of my water and put the lid back on, stretching to set the bottle on the coffee table before I settled back into the sofa.

I took a deep breath and asked what I had wanted to ask Darlene since she and I really became friends.

“Did your brother ever tell you about the incident in the Server Room?”

“You mean how you saved his ass from getting fired?”

“About what he did after he got locked in.”

Darlene took a deep breath, her hands in her lap as her chip lay idle in her fingertips.

“He told me that those guys, like, played a prank or something—locked him in with the servers because he kept hacking through their security protocols. He said he lost it and the next thing he knew, you were there. Like a fucking knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice just hinting at being teasing.

I scoffed.

“He didn’t say that,” Darlene said with an eyeroll, “but that’s what he meant. He thinks you hung the moon, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Happy?”

“Not since we were kids. And even then it was less . . . consistent.”

“He didn’t say anything else about that night?”

“No,” Darlene answered, her eyes boring into mine just like Elliot’s.

“I need you to be absolutely positive he didn’t say anything else—are you totally sure?”

“Yes. I am positive that’s all he said. Why?”

After a pause, my explanation came out in a bit of a rush.

“Elliot has no memory of smashing up the towers. When I found him, he was blacked out. I thought it was the head gash, but Jill assured me it wasn’t. She—she rattled off a few things that could cause a person to black out like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Anxiety attack, a reaction to traumatic stress, dissociative or dissociative identity disorder, or,” I paused, “schizophrenia.”

Darlene was quiet.

“The first time I remember it happening was when I was like six, maybe seven. My grandmother came to visit, Dad’s mom, and she was showing us all these pictures from when Dad was little. I remember thinking about how much Elliot looked like him as a kid and being a little jealous because I didn’t. Anyway, my grandmother started to cry and she told Elliot how much Dad loved him, how special he was to him, and Elliot just froze before he started screaming. He told her to shut up and a bunch of shit I can’t really remember, but Mom got so pissed. She dragged Elliot upstairs and locked him in his room.”

It felt like I had swallowed lead as I listened to Darlene, the knot of leaden nerves growing heavier as she continued.

“Once Mom was in bed, I stole her key and took Elliot dinner. He was just laying in his bed, facing the wall like he hadn’t moved all day. I remember—”

Darlene faltered for the first time in her story.

“I remember,” she said finding her voice again, “the look on Elliot’s face when he rolled over. He asked, ‘Did Mom lock me in?’”

“I told him, yeah, she did, and he asked why she hated him so much.”

“I said that maybe it was because he yelled at our grandmother, and I’ll never forget the way he looked at me because I’ve seen it enough times now. He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about—like I had just told him some horrible truth he had no knowledge of.”

“So, he’s blacked out since he was little?”

“I’m not sure how young, but that’s the first time I remember it happening.”

“And has—has he ever been to therapy?”

“Definitely in high school. I remember mom being livid when she found out he met with the school’s psychologist once a week.

I don’t know what it was about Elliot that always set her off. It was like he couldn’t ever do anything right. I mean, she was a fucking bitch to me, too, but all of her anger was concentrated on him. It was like he was her trigger.”

“Did she,” I stopped and paused. “This is hard to ask outright. Did she . . . hurt either of you?”

“When I was, like, 8, I found this kitten. Gray and black with four perfectly white paws. She was so little, so I snuck her into my room, even named her. Moonpie,” Darlene said with a wistful smile. “Anyway, I built a little space for her in the backyard and that’s when Mom found out. She threw us in the car, went in and got Elliot, then drove to a lake. She said—she said I had to drown the cat so I would remember that actions have consequences, and disobeying her meant a consequence. I fucking took the cat and ran for it and found her a home far away from that monster.**

I’ve got a million stories like that,” Darlene finished, finally flicking her eyes to mine. “She was a stone-cold bitch.”

I was quiet while I processed Darlene’s story, thinking it alone confirmed why she stayed in the lobby when we visited her mom.

“I don’t want to push Elliot, but there’s something he’s not telling me. Maybe not telling any of us.”

“If you push him, you could lose him. That’s all I’m going to say. How important is it for him to tell you—or us—or anyone?”

“That night at my parents’ house,” I began. “That wasn’t the first time Elliot lost his temper with me.”

Darlene huffed, “That wasn’t—fuck. I don’t know how to explain it, but that wasn’t the same. Trust me. When he really loses it, you’ll know.”

“And he never remembers?”

“No.”

“Do you think it’s an act? A way to release aggression without suffering the consequence?”

“Y/N—this is the most normal I’ve ever seen my brother. Before you, there was nothing. No one. He stayed in and jacked around on his computer. What would be the point of putting on an act for years? It’s not like he was protecting some perfect life.”

“I don’t know. Had to ask,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m just saying that he’s happy now. He’s in a good place—you are a good place.”

“I do feel like he is happy now, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens when he’s not. What if he gets depressed again? What if something does happen between us that isn’t fixable? Then he blames himself and it all goes to shit—again. How many times is he going to go through that cycle before he moves forward and stays in a forward momentum?”

I . . . want to ask him to talk to someone, a therapist, or whatever. Just . . . someone. How do you think he’ll react? Or should I just forget it?”

Darlene sighed as she thought, and I could see her nibbling her bottom lip.

“He trusts you. If anyone can suggest it, it’s you.”

“But should I?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I mean, yeah. He’s got a fuckton of baggage, but I hate to stir shit up when he’s happy.”

“We shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells. No one’s happiness should be that fragile . . . that temporary.”

Darlene shrugged.

“Just maybe give me a warning before the shit hits the fan so I can get the fuck outta here.”

I laughed softly.

“You always assume the worst—and I get it. Well, I mean I think I understand it. I didn’t live through what you’ve lived through. And hey—this isn’t just about Elliot. If you ever need anything or anyone to unleash on, I’m here.”

Darlene looked at me and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve made my peace with my shit childhood. But sometimes—"

I waited expectantly.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of it really fucked me up. I don’t—I don’t trust anyone. Like, ever.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a job?”

“What?”

“Considering what you do, I’m not surprised you feel like you have to look over your shoulder all the time. Even if you wanted to just set up a legit business for yourself, I could help you do that. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like everything was about to crash in on you at any moment. You could be totally independent.”

Darlene looked at me like I was crazy.

“You legit see the good in everything, don’t you?”

“I see the bad, but I choose to ignore as much of it as I can. I used to . . . not. That was one of the best things I learned from my therapist. She helped me climb over that wall of impending doom. Granted, it’s still there at times, but she taught me how to confront those feelings so they don’t paralyze me. I know my demons are nothing compared to yours or Elliot’s, and I know I have it easy because I can always rely on my parents to help me. But that kind of thinking leads to its own sort of darkness.”

I just want Elliot to be happy, really happy. And you, too.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if you realize what it’s like to just have someone care. That’s why I love Elliot so much—he’s always cared about me. I’ve never doubted that.”

“You shouldn’t. He loves you.”

“I haven’t always been the best sister.”

“None of us are—we have the longest relationships of our lives with our siblings. We are bound to fuck it up with them on occasion.”

Darlene laughed before growing serious again.

“Just promise me this?”

I nodded.

“If he bails on you, tries to push you away, don’t let him because it’s not really . . . it’s not really him.”

“Okay,” I promised.

“Think Elliot’ll be mad if we open a present early?”

“Oh, no way! Absolutely not! In fact, off to bed with you. Santa has to stuff the stockings.”

Darlene gave me a look of suppressed confusion and happiness, her mouth turning up in a sort of quirky smirk.

“Are you for real with this happy Christmas shit?”

“Yes—go to bed.”

Darlene shakes her head and slides off the sofa. She offers to help me clean up, but I tell her to get some sleep.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Darlene says as hugs me.

“Santa is going to leave you coal,” I said as I gave her a final squeeze and she told me to shove it.

* New Year’s *

“I’m glad it’s just the two of us tonight. I feel like it’s been a whirlwind of parties and people.”

I brought Elliot his drink, enjoying the soft glow of the Christmas lights that sparkled on the tree Elliot helped me choose and trim. My apartment was over-decorated with lights and garland and the woodsy smell of pine was still strong because Elliot had gotten caught up in the holiday spirit, only pulling back when I told him it was all fun and games until it was time to take it all down.

Elliot’s bright, grey eyes were trained on my face as he said, “Because it has been. I’ve never socialized this much in my life and I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

“Excellent! I hope I’ve ruined you for any other person,” I said with a confident grin.

“That’s a guarantee. I’ve never been—” Elliot slammed his mouth shut and it would’ve been comical except for the look of horror on his face.

“Don’t do that.”

He shook his head.

“You can’t wait for the hammer to fall all the time. It’s a horrible way to live. You’ve never been what—say it.”

It’s clear Elliot is at war with himself in a Hamletian parody: to tell me, or not to tell me.

I huffed and leaned in to kiss him.

“You’ve never been . . .” I trailed off, a smile on my face as I placed kisses, playful and feathery, all over his face until I started teasing him with little licks under his jaw and down his neck.

“Come on, El. You’ve never been . . .”

I worked my fingers under his shirt and ghosted them along his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as he fought not to giggle.

“Hap—hap—happier!” Elliot laughs out, unable to take my torture any longer. “I’ve never been happier.”

I grinned at him, his outburst before Thanksgiving feeling like it was a thousand miles in the past, nearly buried after the happy holiday season.

“This reminds me of Memorial Day weekend,” I said, looking over Elliot’s head as I reminisced.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you remember? After that big meal we made together? We talked and smoked—and cuddled.”

“You told me you wanted to stop time,” Elliot said, looking at me with the slightest smile.

“Because you had me all fucked up.”

“All fucked up.”

“Don’t move—we’ve got one more Christmas present to open,” I said as I hopped up and went to dig around in the opened gifts still under the tree. I hated to put Christmas away until I absolutely had to.

“Here it is,” I mumbled as I pulled the plain black box out of the Kate Spade tote Erin had gifted me.

The commotion on the television drew my attention as I realized we had about a minute until the ball dropped. I placed the black box on the coffee table and looked at Elliot.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah? You wanna kiss me or something?”

“I do,” I said with a smile. “This is an important kiss, after all.”

“Oh?”

“A kiss at midnight means we’ll be together for the next year.”

“So you believe in superstitions now?”

“Listen,” I whispered, pulling Elliot onto his feet.

Elliot looked toward the TV as the ball began to drop. When he turned his eyes to mine, I was lost, lost as I realized they were nothing more than a reflection of my own deep happiness.

“3, 2, 1—”

Elliot’s lips crashed onto mine and he kissed me until I was light-headed, straining for gasping little breaths, unwilling to break this moment.

“Happy New Year,” Elliot breathed as he rested his forward against mine.

“Happy New Year,” I echoed.

“I never thought,” Elliot said with a surprising burst of laughter, “I never thought I’d be sharing a New Year’s kiss with . . . anyone,” he finished as he tugged me along with him back onto the couch, both of us plopping down in a bit of a tangle.

I looked at Elliot’s perfect three-point grin and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I think I’ve gained weight,” Elliot chuckled, shifting on the couch as his jeans strained against his normally damn near concave stomach.

“Guess you’re just going to have to forego pants until you lose those stubborn holiday pounds?”

“Oh?” Elliot said, but this time his voice was husky, a seductive purr as he reached for the button on his jeans, sliding it open and opening his pants.

I laughed, “Is this a glimpse into our future? Late nights on the sofa in front of the TV, your pants popped open because you ate too much?”

“Would that be a terrible fate for you?”

“No,” I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss him lightly.

“What’s in the box?” Elliot asked as he peeked over my shoulder.

“Oh—shit!”

I pulled back and reached around to the coffee table, grabbing the box.

“A little present from Erin—would you like to do the honors?”

Elliot smirked and reached for the box, quickly pulling the lid off. He chuckled as he looked at the perfectly packed, pretty fat joints.

“More than a little present, I’d say,” he stated.

“This is a perfect opportunity to recreate our Memorial Day weekend. Thanks, sis,” I grinned as I got up to find a lighter.

Elliot and I each worked our way through a joint. It was good weed, and my state of consciousness quickly gave way to that fog, that sleepy-happy state of relaxation that only came with a good smoke.

Elliot’s face seemed to be permanently etched in a perfect three-point grin as his head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.

“What’s got you grinning?” I asked, feeling every word on my tongue as I continued to watch his face, the Christmas lights in my peripheral all blurring together so prettily.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re more than friends now,” Elliot said as he opened his eyes, lazy and half-lidded, his grin still planted on his face.

I chuckled as I slid onto Elliot’s lap and pushed his chin up so his eyes were locked on mine. I traced my fingers over his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, and I pulled back and reached for his hands.

I kissed across the knuckles of each of his hands, looking for any mark, any tiny scar from the incident in the server room, but I found none—it was like it had never happened, except that here he was, underneath me and looking at me with eyes that didn’t bother to hide the love he felt, and it was all because of that terrible night.

If good didn’t exist without condition, then maybe bad didn’t either?

“If it never happened, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?” Elliot asked, reading my thoughts.

I shook my head slowly as I let his hands fall to resting on the top of my thighs, near my hips.

“This face, El,” I breathed as I scooted closer to his body, “If I could draw, I would replicate it in all its perfection. And in your eyes, I would write the thousands of truths you carry inside so I could read them, know them, and in turn, know you.”

I was high—but I wasn’t so sure it was the effect of the weed anymore that made me feel so lightheaded.

Elliot’s eyes filled with a desperate sort of desire, and I wasn’t entirely unconvinced it was because he wanted me to stop talking, wanted me to stop looking at him so deeply.

“You do know me. And you love me anyway.”

“I love you because I know you.”

I kissed him gently, then with a sense of urgency, and again, it could have been attributed to the high, but I was suddenly filled with a sense of paranoia, a thought that nothing would ever be this good again, that nothing would ever be like this night again.

Elliot’s tongue twined with mine as his fingers gripped my hips. I broke the kiss and pushed his head back so I could have access to his jaw and his neck. I licked along the sharp line of his jawbone before I placed sweet kisses down his neck. As I worked my way back up, I deepened those chaste kisses, sucking lightly in spots until Elliot’s fingers were threatening to snap with his tight grip.

“Touch me,” I whispered in his ear before I pulled the lobe into my mouth and sucked.

His hands moved, sliding under my shirt and going straight to unhook my bra. His nimble fingers managed it quickly and he switched his angle so that he was now massaging my breasts as they dropped free from my loosened bra. Elliot’s fingers were simultaneously working my nipples and I felt a rush of arousal between my thighs.

I was working the other side of his neck now, still pulling breathy moans from his throat, as Elliot began to tug at my shirt, trying to get me out of it and my bra. I sat back just enough to help, tossing the pile of fabric over the back of the couch. Since I was already leaning back, I reached for the hem of Elliot’s sweater and pulled it over his head. He had forgone a t-shirt underneath tonight and I was delighted to be able to dip my head and lick along the top of his chest, placing wet kisses across his skin and then onto the smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders.

I pressed my body into his in a tight hug, my eyes rolling back a bit at the sensation of warm skin on warm skin.

Elliot moved forward, wriggling to the end of the couch and he stood up, after a moment’s struggle to get his hands under my thighs. I hooked my ankles together and he carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed and sliding into place between my legs.

I was still lost in the warm feel of our torsos, pressed together as Elliot’s hands pushed my arms up over my head so he could touch as much of me as he could reach, fingertips to waist, he ghosted along my skin until it broke into gooseflesh and I shuddered.

He was watching me with those big eyes, memorizing my face in yet another moment of passion before he pushed himself up so he could kiss across my chest.

Elliot’s lips quickly found one of my nipples, and I felt another flood of arousal as I watched his full lips pucker around it as he sucked. I ran my fingers up the back of his head and tangled them in his hair, enjoying the soft thickness.

Elliot let go with a slight pop and blew a cool stream of air over the wet patch, causing both nipples to grow impossibly hard and even more sensitive. Elliot smirked as he kissed his way to my other breast and repeated his sweet torture.

By the time he was kissing his way down my stomach, I was done, squirming with desire, the muscles of my abdomen twitching under his tongue.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Stop, stop.”

Elliot froze and looked up with wide-eyes, and I pushed out from under him.

I stood and shimmied out of my jeans and panties.

“Lay down,” I instructed, and Elliot’s face relaxed as he realized I just wanted to switch positions.

Elliot’s jeans were already falling off his hips, so with a good tug, I pulled them off and made quick work of his socks and his underwear. I took a few seconds to let my eyes rake over his naked body, his muscles taught, his cock hard, his eyes soft.

I smiled and kept my eyes on his as I straddled his hips. Elliot reached down to grasp himself, and he ran the tip of his cock through my wetness. I stayed poised above him, and I reached up to grasp his jaw, my thumb caressing the spot between his lower lip and his chin. When our eyes were locked, I lowered myself onto him and we groaned together, both overwhelmed at both the sensation and the feeling.

I moved slowly, watching his mouth form a tight line as he struggled against releasing his pleasure.

“Let go, El.”

Elliot’s eyes swept over my face before he exhaled, his mouth falling open. He ran his hands up my thighs and swept around to grasp my hips. I loved the feeling of his strong hands on me and I sped up my movements, his cock hitting just the right spot.

I wanted him so much and my high had worn off to a quiet buzz, I knew my orgasm wouldn’t take long to achieve, but I wanted to come with him tonight—I felt a desperate need to be in sync with him, to be as close to him as I could be.

We were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, our bodies hot, flushed.

“Close,” I breathed.

“Y/N,” Elliot said in a moan. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

Elliot’s deep, raspy voice saying my name, again and again, drove me toward the edge, and I sped up my movements, my hands clutching at his chest as I began to bounce in earnest.

“Fuck,” Elliot hissed. “I’m coming.”

And my walls clenched at his warning, squeezing around him while he emptied himself inside of me, his heat spreading over my inner walls, making me feel so connected to him as we both worked through our climaxes. Tonight, like our first night together, wasn’t about fucking; it was about feeling, about us showing one another everything we didn’t want to taint with words.

We stayed connected, arms and legs tangled, but we said nothing—nothing needed to be said, and soon Elliot’s head was settled on my chest in a haunting, much more intimate mirror of the first, chaste night we had ever spent together.

Surrounded by everything that was Elliot, I knew I wanted to forget about the incident at my parents’ house, so I did, pushing it away until I thought it was gone.

I felt Elliot relax, falling asleep in my arms, but as this Elliot, my Elliot fell asleep, another part of him was waking up, that angry part of him I wanted so desperately to forget wasn’t going to stay asleep for much longer, and it would be all my fault.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #elliot x reader #female reader #rami malek #rami malek character #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction

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