#okay more yelling in the tags now: THANK YOU FOR THIS ART ITS DELICIOUS

[hipsofsteel]

Oh good lord, Cold Seas series. It's been so long! Had to go reread it upon seeing these.

Thank you for sharing this wonderful art and your work on translating!

My hetalia oldoldoold pics for mermay. I love mermaids so much tho. btw I I drew it from a fic, and y'all know which. ;) @hipsofsteel Heyo! I used to translate your fan fiction, but I completely forgot that I also drew pictures! It's a wonderful story! I'm crying. :')

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #36

Prompt number: 2 - “That’s the easy part?”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

“That’s the easy part?” Nicky asked, mug raised halfway to his lips. Maybe he heard wrong, he hadn’t even finished his fourth cup of coffee yet. Sleep was still threatening to drag him back into its warm embrace and if Nicky didn’t finish this cup soon, he was going to be flinging himself into those arms again.

God, he was so tired. It was 10 a.m. and he was awake.

Nile frowned, her eyebrows drawing in. “You just have to spend the whole day with Joe. Then you bring him back when I text you!” He definitely heard her correctly the first time then. Nicky rubbed a tired hand over his face. Nile made some hand-waving motions in front of him, “What? I thought you’d be glad to be with Joe!”

“I am happy that I will spend the day with Joe,” Nicky responded and took a sip from his mug. The coffee was getting cold, edging towards lukewarm rather than hot. Nicky quickly finished the rest before it became unpalatable and licked his lips before continuing. “The only problem is Joe will know something is up.”

Nile grabbed the coffee pot and topped his mug with fresh, hot, delicious coffee before placing it back in the coffee machine. He hummed in gratitude, cradling the warm mug in his hands. “How could he possibly know something is up? There is nothing significant about this day as far as Joe is concerned.”

Nicky lifted his chin in concession. “That may be, but my Joe is not stupid. He’ll quickly catch on that I’m trying to stall him.”

“You’re telling me that you can’t act normal for one day?” Nicky raised an eyebrow and Nile huffed. “You know what I mean.” He did know what she meant. That didn’t make teasing her any less fun.

“We’ve been together for over 900 years, Nile. That man could probably tell you how many strands of hair I have on my head. He definitely knows when I’m purposely distracting someone.” This was putting aside the fact that half the tricks Nicky used all came from Joe. Joe had a gift for interacting and understanding people. It was something that used to infuriate Nicky. Here was this man who Nicky barely tolerated but made everyone he met practically fawn all over themselves for him.

“Come on, Nicky. Take him to the movies, a museum, the mall. Hell, have a quickie in the parking lot! Just distract him for a couple hours.” There was a desperate gleam in Nile’s eyes and Nicky sighed, hating himself just a tiny bit for being such a sucker. She definitely learned how to do that face from Joe.

Nicky took several gulps from his mug just to be an ass and make her believe that he was still pondering her request. He couldn’t let her think that he was that easily persuaded. At least, not yet. She’ll have plenty of time to learn just how easy he was for the people he loved. “Fine.” Nile let out a victorious crow, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her toes. “Yeah, yeah,” Nicky grumbled, noisily slurping his coffee.

“Alright, get your man out of the house. I’ll text you when to come back!”

Nicky protested as he was pushed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, slumping as he came face to face with his closed bedroom door where his other half remained sound asleep. Releasing a deep sigh, Nicky scratched the back of his head to buy himself a couple more seconds. He really didn’t know how he was going to keep Joe out of the house. It would’ve been so much easier if he had to keep Joe in, he thought wistfully.

Fearing that Nile would come and check in on him any second now, Nicky opened the door. As expected, Joe was still asleep, half covered by the down-comforter, head resting on two pillows, one arm hugging Pedro to his chest. Even 900 years later, Nicky stood in the doorway, frozen and completely helpless to the way his heart started to flutter with the amount of affection he held for this man.

It didn’t take long for Joe’s instincts to kick in. Sensing another presence, Joe stretched out on the bed, slow to blink the sleep out of his eyes. “Nicolò?” His voice was sleep-warm, slightly raspy and elongated vowels. It was music to Nicky’s ears. Nicky placed his mug on the nightstand and crawled into bed next to Joe. Still, Joe shuffled in closer until the only thing between them was Pedro. “What time is it?”

“10,” Nicky answered and Joe groaned, burying his face into the crook of Nicky’s neck. Nicky didn’t think they would have lasted as long as they did if one of them was an early riser. He brought a hand up to bury in the tight curls, using his fingernails to gently scratch at Joe’s scalp.

“Want to go get that new set of oil pastels today?” Nicky asked after several minutes of peace. Joe shook his head. “We can’t stay in here the whole day.” Joe let out a confused whine. “Because-because it’s rude to stay in bed all day. We have to at least last another year before Nile figures us out.” Joe didn’t move for a couple beats. Nicky was starting to feel the beginnings of a cold sweat when Joe finally sighed, nuzzling into his neck a little more before rolling away with a grumble.

Nicky had to resist the urge to close his eyes and sigh. So far, so good.

—

Okay, so maybe he was too optimistic. It took Joe 30 minutes for him to realize that something was up. Nicky had to beg him to play along, promising the new oil pastels and himself as a live model for the whole afternoon. It was an amazing deal and Joe knew it. The only time Nicky was still was in his sleep, on a mission and when reading a book. Having a whole afternoon to draw Nicky in whatever position and scenery? Truly a once in a lifetime offer.

By the time Nicky got the okay from Nile, he was beyond exhausted. Sitting in one position and being admired was hard work. But a deal was a deal and so Nicky had remained in whatever position Joe had arranged him in without a protest, sinking into that headspace he only ever used during missions.

“This surprise must be really good for you to have modeled the whole day,” Joe said, tangling their fingers over the center console. Nicky squeezed his hand, not taking his eyes off the blurred trees outside. They were almost home. He could keep the secret for a little longer. He just had to keep his mouth shut and it would still be a surprise. Sort of. Did it count as a surprise if the person knew that there was a surprise but didn’t know what the surprise was? Nicky decided that yes, it was still a surprise. The actual surprise was still unknown even if the entire event wasn’t.

“I hope you realize how nice I was today. I could’ve made you spill before we even got to the art supply store.” That was a bait. It was a bait. Nicky was confident that there were even studies about this kind of bait. Even with that knowledge, Nicky had to bite his tongue to remain silent, focusing on the sharp pain. “Fine, keep quiet. Don’t think there won’t be payback for keeping me in the dark.” It was a weak threat since Joe brought their joined hands to his lips not a second later.

It took 15 minutes to get home. It was the longest 15 minutes of Nicky’s life. He swore that entire generations lived and died in those 15 minutes. He had endured torture that felt shorter than those 15 minutes.

As soon as the car was put in park, Nicky hopped out of the car and ran to the other side to open the door for Joe. “Come,” Nicky said, extending his hand.

“Now you want me to pay attention to you,” Joe teased but took his hand with a fond smile. With Joe’s hand in a tight grip, Nicky led him inside the house and into the dark living room.

“Uhh, I’m a little confused-“ Joe started.

The lights flicked on.

“SURPRISE!” Nile yelled, followed by Andy and Booker’s weaker attempt. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if they had spent the whole day practicing and this was their best one yet.

Joe frowned and turned to Nicky, looking utterly adorable with that little furrow and pout. “I’m still confused.”

It was Nicky’s turn to smile and bring their joined hands to his lips. “This was Nile’s idea,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Nile clapped her hands together, drawing their attention back to her. “Remember when we were talking about birthdays?” Joe slowly nodded. “Right! Well, you said you never had a birthday party. So…” She motioned to the balloons taped to every piece of furniture in the living room, the dozens of party streamers, the platters of food on the dining room table.

“It’s not my birthday,” Joe said, still confused.

“Do you even know your birthday?” Nile asked and Joe slowly shook his head. “Exactly. So there’s a .003% chance that today is your birthday and we are celebrating! We got presents, cake, balloons and your favorite foods!”

Joe opened and closed his mouth several times as he took everything in, rendered completely speechless for the first time in what had to be decades. Nicky squeezed his hand, a silent are you okay? It took a moment for Joe to respond yes, a watery smile tugging on his lips. “Thank you, Nile.” Joe sniffed and swallowed the lump that had swelled in his throat. “This is amazing.”  

Nile beamed, looking like sunshine personified. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Everyone deserves to have a birthday party.”

Joe turned to the other two occupants in the room. They were definitely a little tipsy already and Nicky couldn’t blame them. He probably would’ve drank too if he had to tie as many balloons as they did. It was going to take forever to clean all of this party stuff up. “Thank you to you two as well. I know Nile probably bullied you two into helping,” Joe said and Nile let out an indignant, “Hey!”. Both Andy and Booker rolled their eyes in tandem, reluctant smiles gracing their faces and really? They were able to get that down but not the surprise?

“We love you too,” Booker said, pulling out a flask from the inside of his jacket pocket. He took a sip and passed it to Andy.

Andy pointed to Booker with the flask. “What he said,” she said and tipped the flask into her mouth.

Joe tugged on his hand and Nicky turned to look at him, one eyebrow cocked. “Nile said presents. What’d you get me?”

Nicky couldn’t help the baffled laugh. “Who do you think bought you the oil pastels and modeled the whole afternoon?”

Joe’s cheeks dimpled with how wide he smiled. “That doesn’t count,” he declared, lightly clapping Nicky’s hand. “Come on,” he whined, “Present.”

There will be a day where Nicky will finally be able to resist that smile. Where he’ll be able to look at those dimples, the small wrinkles at the corners of those warm brown eyes and not fold faster than wet paper. Today wasn’t that day.

Nicky let out a deep sigh, pursing his lips in feigned annoyance as he reached into his pocket to pull out a small box. Joe snatched it out of his hand with a giddy whoop, tearing through the wrapping paper and throwing the lid to the floor. He pulled out a thick platinum ring, his eyes gleaming similar to what Nicky had always imagined a dragon looking at its treasure would look like.

Joe twisted the ring to look at the inside. “My everything,” Joe read aloud and Nicky wrapped his arms around him.

“Happy birthday, amore.”

[coeurdastronaute]

Stud 10

Previously on Stud

“No.” 

“I thought we agreed not to look at the price tag.” 

“How much does it cost?” Clarke wailed, groaning as she looked at the spec sheet the realtor had given them on the trip over to the building. 

“What were you complaining about if not the price?” 

“I don’t complain, thank you.” 

“You often voice your concern in a loud and disgruntled manner,” Lexa explained as she continued scrolling on her phone, checking her emails eagerly. 

The car slowly trickled its way down the busy streets toward their evening appointment. It’d become somewhat of a routine at this point, and Lexa was certain their realtor would get sick of them after a dozen or so showings, and they were none the closer to agreeing on anything. 

“It has five bedrooms and six bathrooms, Lex.” 

“But the location and the view.” 

“We don’t need that big of a place.” 

“One can be an office, one is our room, one is an art studio for you, and that leaves two bedrooms for visitors. You know Aden will be dying to stay, and my dad, and your parents when the visit. And what about Raven? She needs a place..” 

“We don’t need that much space. Your dad owns a place on the Upper East, so he doesn’t need any room.”

“But the view.” 

“Can we at least agree on size?”

“I don’t like to limit ourselves. What if we find the right place but it has like an extra bedroom?”

With a sigh, Clarke tossed the paper between them on the seat before looking out the window of the unmoving scenery. It was a rainy day, and a balmy evening. She hadn’t enjoyed the house hunting as much as she’d thought she would. Something about finding a place together felt more like a nightmare than a dream. They couldn’t seem to agree on much of anything, and Clarke didn’t want to fight anymore. She just wanted to magically find a place they agreed upon and she wanted to not live out of suitcases at Lexa’s because her place sold so quickly. 

It didn’t help that Lexa was a little busier than normal with her new pet project, or that Clarke was feeling the pressure of work and her parents and her friends. It was a rough spring, and she just wanted something to work out. 

“I don’t want a big place. I want something comfortable, and ours. It can be a studio for all I care.” 

Lexa paused and turned off her phone, the back of the car going darker with the absence of its light. It’d been a long few weeks of running around and looking everywhere, and she wasn’t sure why, but it was only right there that she felt a wave of sadness on her chest. It might have been Clarke’s voice, or her optimism despite it all. 

There was a way in which Lexa was vastly aware of how much she worked, and with Maggie getting started, she was conscious not to get completely sucked into it. She also knew that she was distracted, and Clarke was kind enough not to hold a grudge. There might have been a tiny part of Lexa that almost didn’t want to find a new place because she loved her place, and she did not like change. 

“I take back the thing about you complaining all the time.” 

“I don’t think you said all the time.” 

“Right,” Lexa nodded and smiled, taking her girlfriend’s hands. “Let’s skip this one. It’s not for us anyway.” 

“We already told Elaine we’d be there. I’m not going to make her mad. I kind of like her and she’s put up with us.” 

With a dramatic flourish, Lexa sagged against the back of her seat and chanced a peak at her girl to see if a tantrum would have it’s desired effect. It never did, but she always had to give it a try. When it failed, she tried to the grin, the same grin that led to window sex, that grin. It was effective sometimes, though she never tried it in a car. 

“I promise you right now, that we will find a place by May first, and we will be enjoying our own place all summer.” 

“We’re going to London in June, and I was invited to a family trip to some beach house. And we promised my parents we’d visit.” 

“Okay, we will find a home and we will have a place to come back to, just ours,” Lexa kissed her girlfriend’s hand and held it, trying her best to sound as reassuring as possible. “Plus, that’s not a family trip. That’s the annual board retreat and it’s dreadful.” 

“What about the family trip?” 

“Aden picked camping. So we’ll be hitting a few national parks.” 

“But you.... You guys own like mansions on lakes.” 

“Dad’s stoked. We used to camp all the time when we were kids. He dug out all the old gear and booked the grounds.” 

“Like tent camping?” 

Lexa smiled and nodded earning a slight sigh from the teacher beside her. 

“For someone who is adverse to the luxury of my position in life, you sure do like the fancy digs and vacations.” 

“I know,” Clarke shook her head and looked out the window again. “I’m getting spoiled. I just don’t like nature that much.” 

“So you’re bailing?” 

“No! It’s a family trip, of course I’m going to be there.” 

That part made Lexa feel a bit warm in her chest. Of course Clarke would say something like that, and of course she would like to go anywhere her family did. So she squeezed her hand and picked up the paper to look at the specs for the place. 

“Maybe this place will be it,” Lexa offered. “Too big and all. Wouldn’t that view of the park be so nice? And those windows.” 

“You do seem to love windows,” Clarke recalled, flushing slightly. 

“I think we’re here,” Gus offered as he pulled up to a building. “Nice looking place from the front.” 

“We’ll find our way home tonight, Gus,” Lexa informed the driver. “I think I owe Clarke dinner.” 

“I can wait.”

“No,” Clarke offered sweetly. “She really does owe me dinner. Have a good night. Thanks for the lift.”

“Good luck in there,” he smiled and closed the door after letting them out. 

Before he pulled away, Gus stood by the car and watched. Clarke hugged Lexa’s side and Lexa had her arm over her shoulder. She kissed her temple absently and the driver who had held her in his arms on the day that she was born felt insanely proud at the moment he’d witnessed. He’d always worried about her, especially after the death of her mother. But Clarke was a spark. Lexa knew him well enough to know he’d still be there, to turn around before they moved to the elevators with the realtor and gave him a wave and a smile that he returned. Gus truly did hope they would find their home, because Lexa needed a place to come back to no matter what. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The view of the park was spectacular. 

Clarke didn’t pay much attention to it, not at the present moment despite her forehead resting on the glass. She felt Lexa kiss her shoulder before her tepid breath moved to her neck and a hand that tugged her shirt higher while another was firmly rooting around in her shorts. There were words happening,but Clarke couldn’t really decipher much of them. Her fingertips clawed and found no traction against the glass. 

As sloppy and poorly planned as it’d been, Clarke relaxed, going slightly limp, allowing the window and her girlfriend to support her as she tried to catch her breath and remembering the feeling of the cool glass against her heated skin. 

“I love our place,” Lexa whispered, kissing Clarke’s shoulder and earning a chuckle. “So many windows.” 

“I don’t know which will be worse,” Clarke stood on her own slightly. “Sore from moving all of the stuff or from christening every surface and new piece of furniture we get.” 

“How can you be sore when I make you feel so good?” 

There was a mischievous grin there that Clarke kissed in an instant, gobbling a Lexa in such a good mood up deliciously. Even though they were both slightly sweaty, she held her close, not minding the smudges she was sure existed behind them. 

“Our place,” Clarke muttered, something she was still not used to saying. “Can you believe we agreed on a place?” 

“Yeah, because you’re spoiled and I give you whatever you asked for. It was inevitable.” 

“Shush.” 

“Our first night, and you’re hushing me. Sounds about right.” 

“You make me sound like I’m a demanding brute instead of an incredibly devoted,” Clarke explained, kissing her girlfriend’s neck. “Alluring,” her jaw. “Loving,” her lips. “Supportive partner.” 

“You’re a complex woman, Griffin.” 

With a shrug and a smile, Lexa relaxed a bit. The sun was setting later as the spring bloomed in the city. There was something sweet to the moment, and she was savoring it because she was someone who held moments tightly. 

“We should order dinner. We didn’t unpack anything.” 

“The bed is set up.” 

“And that’s it,” Clarke shook her head. 

“You wanted to do it all yourself.” 

“Yes, well, I got distracted by your affinity for--”

“Fucking you against hte window,” Lexa agreed quite seriously. “Yeah yeah. When are you going to stop using that as an excuse?”

“When you stop doing it.” 

“So… never?” Lexa pushed forward again until Clarke was leaning against the window. She hissed slightly at the chil as hands moved to her hips. “You’re just so pretty and I have an outrageous amount of affection for you.”

“Don’t sweet talk me.” 

Somewhere between the kiss and the complaint, the buzzer went off. And despite Lexa’s idea to ignore it, Clarke slipped from her grasp and pressed the button. She felt her stomach growl and she realized how hungry she was. They did need to eat, and they did need to start unpacking. With a forlorn glance she looked away from the windows once again. 

“Your dad is on his way up,” Clarke yelled from the other room. “Please wipe off the window or something. I’m going to clean up in the bathroom.” 

Despite the frantic screech and order, Lexa just looked around at the boxes and held up her hands, unsure of how she was supposed to find anything. Instead, she listened to her girlfriend swear as she bumped into something and ran into the bathroom. Lexa just moved toward the door. 

“Hey, kid,” Alex grinned and hugged his daughter at the door. “I was just heading home and I thought I’d bring you a house warming present. See if you needed any help hanging up shelves. I’m quite good at that kind of thing you know.” 

“I know, I know. Not yet, but I’ll let you know.” 

“I ran into Elaine in the lobby.” 

When he moved aside, Lexa saw her realtor and nodded politely at her. 

“Great minds,” she offered, holding out a bottle of wine. “I tried to drop something off before, but you guys were quicker than I thought you’d be moving in.” 

“The reno guys were really good,” Lexa explained, examining the bottle. “Thank you. This is one of my favorites. Come in, guys. We haven’t made a dent in unpacking, but please--”

“Where’s that pretty girlfriend of yours?” 

“Sorry, I was just… um… is that wine?” Clarke breezed in and accepted a bigger hug from Alex than Lexa got. She kissed the realtor’s cheeks and accepted a half-hug. “Did you two plan this?” 

“No, no, just good timing,” Elain blushed slightly as she looked from Alex back to the pair. 

“What do you think,” Lexa turned to the girl who hugged her side. “Our first dinner party?” 

“We were just going to order, and these are both very good looking wines,” her girlfriend agreed before turning to her father. “Would you both like to join us?” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Alex waited for the inevitable refusal of his refusal. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to drop this off. I hadn’t even planned on coming--”

“You can’t let us drink this on our own,” Lexa shook her head. “Come on. We’ll have some food and finally christen this place.” 

There was a slight elbow in her ribs, but Lexa was proud of her choice of words. She was proud of her place and she was proud of her girl, and she was proud of being someone who could invite people in for a quick dinner and drinks. 

“Please stay,” Clarke offered again. “We always order too much, and you’re saving me from having to do any unpacking tonight.” 

“I think we have to stay then,” Alex grinned and looked expectantly at the realtor who finally gave in. 

“Perfect.”

XXXXXXXXXX

“It was a very nice place,” Elaine promised. 

“You’re being generous,” Alex chuckled as he shook his head. “We thought it was going to be a nice area. We should have listened to you.” 

“I can’t believe Mom let you make that call,” Lexa laughed before taking another sip of her wine. “Or that you let him buy it.” 

“We were all young and dumb,” the realtor shook her head and took another drink as well. “That would have been thirty or so years ago.” 

The foursome sat on a hodgepodge of furniture assembled on the patio overlooking the park and the trees and the beautiful sunset. With take out containers passed around and random plates and plastic cutlery, they shared and laughed and drank wine from coffee mugs. It’d been an evening of good conversation and good wine and good food, and much to Lexa’s liking, she stole food from her girlfriend’s plate and laughed at her father’s stories. 

“Your mother never let me hear the end of it, anytime we bought a new property, I wasn’t allowed to even say I like it or not.” 

“At least we agreed,” Clarke offered. “I think you eventually had a good eye to find this place.” 

“Well, when you finally agreed to live with me, I figured I should provide adequate shelter.”

From her spot, Clarke leaned against Lexa’s legs and looked up at her, smiling and in love. It was a sight to see. Lexa swirled her wine and took it all in, as she was known to do, while her father reminisced with Elaine, barely remembering each other from too long ago. Lexa rubbed her girlfriend’s shoulder and her neck absently. 

“It’s almost unbearable, isn’t it?” Alex shook his head after watching the two of them. He smiled at the pair across from him. 

“What’s that?” Elaine leaned closer. 

For a moment, Clarke and Lexa were making eyes and whispering, smiling, happily unaware that they were now the subject of observation. 

“How happy and in love they are.” 

She turned her gaze upon them and sighed, amazed by it after finally having the time to observe them. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’m so proud of her.” 

This time, Elaine turned toward the beaming father and smiled smaller, to herself, in awe of such honesty and the source itself. 

“Don’t look now, but I think your dad is hitting it off with the realtor,” Clarke whispered after tossing a glance at the pair across from them. 

“You’re completely impossible lately. Trying to set up everyone we know.” 

“Maggie and Raven could hook up.” 

Lexa just shook her head and finished her drink. 

“Can I get anyone a top off?” she interrupted the conversation as she stood. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“I think she liked him and he was certainly interested in her,” Clarke informed Lexa. “You didn’t pick up on those vibes?” 

“My dad doesn’t have vibes.” 

The girl at the sink snorted as she continued to rinse out the paltry amount of dishes they’d accumulated in their tiny dinner party. Disinterested in anything at all, Lexa absently played with her empty mug, waiting for the moment to carry her girl to the bedroom and sleep off the inevitable wine hangover. 

“Aw babe. He might not know it, but they were definitely hitting it off.”

Despite how amused Clarke was at the whole thing, Lexa felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought of the betrayal. It didn’t sit right, it didn’t feel right, and everything felt heavier caught in the wine-shaded haze of the long night. 

“There’s no way. He’s… he’s not interested in anything like that.” 

“For someone who likes fucking me against windows, you sure are a prude. He looked like he was having fun. Let the man flirt a bit.”

“You’re reading too much into it.”

“Does he at least know that you’re okay with him dating someone else?” 

“I’m not.”

There was a pause. Clarke looked up from the kitchen sink toward the girl at the island, and she waited for the joke, for the laugh, for the punchline. But nothing else came. 

“You can’t expect him to be lonely for the rest of time.”

“He has friends. He stays busy.” 

Hands were on hips, and Lexa knew it was a fight before she could stop it. But she didn’t care. She was having feelings, and they were burning up through her veins and scorching her neck and cheeks and chest. 

“And every night he crawls into an empty bed, Lexa,” Clarke argued. “I don’t know about you, but when you’re gone for a week, by Tuesday I’m absolutely sappy with missing having you near. I can’t imagine how that is for him.” 

“He doesn’t want anyone else.” 

“Maybe he doesn’t, but don’t you think it’s important for him to know that you don’t want him to be alone?” 

“No.” 

It was stark and honest for the moment. Lexa wondered if she sounded selfish or confident in her delivery. There was a thin line between spoiled and demanding. 

“If it were you, and something happened to me, I’d want you to never feel an ounce of sadness or like you were alone or like I would want to take away one second of your life pining away for me.” 

“But you’re you, and you’re not dying,” Lexa shook her head and spoke forcefully with her hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you. Ever.” 

“Your father has a few decades ahead of himself, and he’s supposed to pine away forever?” 

Lexa didn’t like the thoughts in her head or the words that were coming out of her mouth or her girlfriend’s mouth. But they kept happening. There wasn’t a pause button. 

“That’s my dead mother you’re replacing!” 

“No one could replace her! I can’t believe you’re acting like this.” 

“I never thought this would be an actual option. I’m sorry I’m not mature enough to handle the idea of my father with someone else.” 

There was something to be said for the honesty. Clarke only ever asked for that from her girlfriend, and when she got it, the actual hard parts, she was always proud, even in heated exchanges or disagreements. Maybe even more so then. And even when she was mad, she softened because it was Lexa. 

“I didn’t know your mother,” Clarke began, soft and gentle despite the anger she fought to keep down for the moment. There would be time to be forceful later. “But I’ve heard stories from everyone I’ve met through you. She was a force that I can’t even fathom. Your father’s potential choice of going on a date with a woman does not take away his love or devotion to her. Nothing could do that.” 

Lexa grit her teeth and took a deep breath. 

“She was my favorite person and sometimes I feel like I’m losing her.” 

“Just because you don’t actively think of her every second doesn’t mean that you aren’t. She created your whims and your thoughts and your like and dislikes-- she made you a person and every action you do is because of her. She’s innate to you, love.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Gus told me a story about how he saw your mom and dad fighting after some event, and when he mimicked her, he moved his hands,” and Clarke moved it to show what she meant. “And it was exactly what you do when you get frustrated and mad. You just did it two minutes ago. She’s not gone. Your father deserves happiness.” 

“He does.”

“Let the man go on a date.”

“I can’t stop him. He’s an adult--”

Clarke gave her a look until she acknowledged her power. Lexa nodded and looked away before flopping down on the still-covered couch, defeated and exhausted from the uproar of thoughts and feelings. 

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Lexa offered quietly between them. Clarke didn’t move closer, but just stood across the room until she leaned against a chair. 

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she returned. “You’re just insanely frustrating sometimes when you’re purposefully obtuse. And I know your father, so I know who is really to blame for that genetic gift I have to deal with.” 

Despite the dig, Lexa smiled to herself and snorted. Sometimes Clarke was too good at deciphering her, and to be left so bare and honest and broken down into her simplest parts was excruciating and wonderful, all at the same time. It’s easy to see what’s wrong with an engine when you take it all apart to find the source of the problem. 

 “I hadn’t thought of any of this. I don’t know what to think.” 

“We can figure it out tomorrow, if you want.”

It was hesitant because the entirety of their conversation had been so heavy and unresolved that Clarke wasn’t sure Lexa would want to go to bed or if she’d be stuck in her head about most of the ideas. But Lexa watched her shy smile and she returned it, holding out her hand before moving. 

Clarke crossed the box-mined living room and took a seat on her girlfriend’s lap, carefully kissing her cheek before laying her own on Lexa’s shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you anymore,” Lexa confessed, the first time she’d had that thought. “You’ve ruined me.” 

“Guess I should stick around then, huh?”

Lexa hugged her close and nodded. 

“I’ll talk to my dad.” 

“Only if you’re ready.”

“Maybe I should talk to aden first. He’s brilliant.” 

“He surely got the brains,” Clarke agreed. “And the talent, and the physical prowess, and the--”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” 

“Let’s go to bed. I’ll make pancakes in the morning.” 

Lexa smiled and nodded, because nothing in the world sounded better to her than waking up with Clarke and eating pancakes.

NEXT

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Every Little Part Of Me | Ch. 1

⇒ Pairing: (Taehyung/Reader/Namjoon)

⇒  Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

⇒ Words: 5,316

⇒ Tags: Noona Reader, University AU, Stalker AU, SMUT, Husband! Namjoon, Student! Taehyung, passionate sex, oral (receiving), lots of confusing shit.

Chapter One 

You hug your coat closer to your body, as your feet hurriedly make their way down the dark and empty halls of the arts department. The echo of your heels reminding you of just how badly your feet were hurting, as the effects of a full day of work hits you like a truck.

As always, you were the last one of the professors to leave the building— and while you didn't mind helping your students out at the last minute, because that is one of the things you love about your job, the extra hours you were putting in were starting to catch up to you. The dark circles under your eyes, that not even makeup could cover, were a true testament of that.

Your body shudders as soon as you open the large wooden doors, the feel of the almost-winter air crawling right under your coat and over your skin making you wish you hadn't lend your car to your sister this morning — maybe you could’ve gotten home and under the covers a whole lot sooner, snuggling up on the couch with some hot chocolate and a good book.

You smile softly towards the security guard as you pass through the school gates, waving goodbye as you walk past. Walking home in this weather would be torturous and somewhat idiotic, but it seemed now you had no choice — a cab is a must right now. So, you stick your gloved hand out in the air and waved down a taxi cab, telling the driver your address as you step into the vehicle. Leaning back against the seat, you watch with tired eyes as buildings pass and street lights blur as your shivering body takes in the warm air blowing through the vents.

The weight of the day comes crashing down, and the rocking of the car slowly lulls your mind into falling asleep with each second that goes by —that is, until the cab stops at the bottom of the hill and you realize you need to walk the rest of the way.

A whole twenty minutes of walking in the darkness.

You pay the driver as you step out of the car only to watch him peel off down the road as you turn and make your way up the small hill. The streets were almost empty save for the occasional restaurant owner closing the shop for the day.

You quickly make your way across the street, knowing that your best friend, Ramona, would still be at her bakery, preparing all kinds of treats for the next work day.

“Hey babe!” Ramona sends a smile your way as she slides one of the half-filled trays of leftover goodies out of the glass displays in front of you. “Just give me a moment, I have a few pies in the oven. Just come around back” She smiles before she hurries off into the kitchen. 

“You got anything leftover goodies from today?” You yell out, dropping your purse on one of the chairs in front of you before sliding off your coat and bag bringing it on the back of the same chair. You quickly make your way into the kitchen, instantly getting hit with the smell of cinnamon and apple. “Shouldn’t you be getting home by now?” You ask her, picking up one of the chocolate chips sitting on the counter in front of you.

“I was, but one of the guys cancelled on me last minute And with the holidays right around the corner, I can’t leave things enough for the very last minute.” She babbles frantically as she moves from stirring something to check on the oven and plating treats on their respective trays. “So, now I’m stuck preparing for tomorrow. He didn’t even have a good excuse.” Ramona grumbles. 

She stops suddenly, finally slowing down long enough to look at you. “Long day?” She finally asks, grabbing onto the bowl in front of her, “You look like shit”

“Gee, thanks.” You pose cutely for her, “Where are my leftovers, woman?” You jokingly say getting straight to the point as you look around for that little white box with the light pink bow on it that holds every delicious thing known to man.

“I knew it! You only like me for my desserts” Ramona gasps jokingly, “and here I thought it was because of my good looks and charming personality.” Ramona continues sarcastically as she pulls out the box filled with little slices of heaven from under the counter. “Here.” She hands it over before asking, “Where’s Namjoon? I thought he would’ve been there to pick you up after class.” She frowns slightly, “Isn’t your anniversary coming up?”

“Uh…” You clear your throat at the sudden question, “He had to work overtime, the office needed him for something or other. I can’t remember what exactly.” You ramble off as you open the box of what seems to be chocolate chip cookies and stuff half a cookie in your mouth. 

You and Namjoon were sort of a sore topic these days, as in you never like when people brought him into the conversation. It wasn’t that you hated him, he was your loving husband after all, you just didn’t hear from him much because he was always working – it was rare for the two of you to even be home at the same time, let alone have dinner together. You know he worked to provide a good life for the two of you, you just wish he was actually there to live it with you at least once in a while. 

“Really? I haven’t seen him around in a week.” Ramona frowns, “Everything okay with you guys?”

You love Ramona, you do - but sometimes your best friend puts her nose in your business way too often than it should be necessary. You couldn’t complain though, considering she always gave you the best advice you could ever receive. Though this time, you had already decided to keep what was happening between you and Namjoon all on your own. 

“Everything’s fine with us. I need to get going, I need to get home.” You reply, closing the box in front of you, checking your watch in passing. “Thanks for the cavities. I’ll see you.” You tell her before you make your way out of the kitchen, leaving your very confused best friend standing staring at the back of your head — wishing you would come back and finish the goddamn conversation for once. 

The weather didn’t seem to lighten up at all in the thirty minutes that you spent inside the bakery, if anything the darker it got colder it did as well. So you hurriedly made the short trip up the rest of the hill. There was something about your neighbourhood that you just loved about. Maybe it was the fact that it was so colourful and full of life during the day, while at night it became quiet and serene, the drawings that adorned the walls still gave it its own personality. 

Not to mention the years of history along the walls - being only thirty minutes away from the university meant a lot of artists left their marks on them. And the deeper into the neighbourhood you went, the older the paintings were.

Growing up here, you had also left your mark when you were younger and although you never actually told anyone, you were proud of what you had created. You don't know why you decided to keep it a secret, maybe it was the fact that it wasn't really a cop friendly activity that might've done the trick. But you wanted people to know your art, not the person behind it. 

Your husband on the other hand wasn't from around here. And when you refused to move away, you received plenty of complaints on his part - until he noticed how close the university was and the lack of traffic to his job, lack of neighbors. He didn’t have to be friendly in the sense that when he was at home – if he ever was home, he could kick back and relax. 

Your thoughts stopped suddenly as you walked past your favourite mural, it was old with its paint already fading and it wasn’t all there anymore, but for you, every time you looked at it, it felt like the first time you had given the idea life. Every stroke showed emotion, a story waiting to be told. There was no other like it, not by the same person at least — what you wish to go back to that time, to be young and naive once more. 

The minutes, unknowingly, slowly slip away from you as you stood in front of the graffiti-covered wall. Your phone’s sudden ringing from inside your purse snapping you out of it. Your eyes flicker for a second in the darkness as you take out your phone, your husband’s name lighting up the screen. Taking a deep breath, you slide your thumb across the screen and check your messages.

New Message

[6:36pm] Hubby: Something came up at work, I’ll be a bit late home tonight.

You read the message repeatedly; it was the same message he had sent two nights ago, and a week before that. It had become customary now to receive the same text, with the same wording every single time. And every single time he ended up staying in a hotel they had a meeting at or flying out to some other country leaving you to wake up to an I promise to bring you something nice or The boss gave me no choice text from him. 

You could say that you were used to it by now, you didn't question it as you didn't really think anything of it. You were in your own little world and you would stay there if needed to. 

You continue making your way up the stairs, looking out at your house in the distance; the exhaustion from being on your feet most of the day becoming more and more prominent with each and every step.

Hoisting your bag over your shoulder as you reach the front gate, your fingers trembling as they punch in the security code. “Oh, come on!” You mumble to yourself, the cold air making you run towards the front door, desperate to escape into the warmth of your house.  

You let out a deep breath, rubbing your hands together as you try to get your cold fingers to warm up. You throw everything on the couch, feeling too lazy to put everything in its place as you take off your soaked black coat and toeing off your muddy shoes before leaving them by the entrance.

“Home sweet home” You mumble under your breath as you switch the lights on in your completely empty house. You had given the maid the weekend off, knowing you wanted to stay completely alone. The reason being so you could work on your art without any distractions, not to mention all the classwork you had to catch up on.

You make your way into the kitchen, picking up the sticky note stuck on the microwave from your maid – you read it over, learning that she had left you something for dinner tonight and thanking you for giving her the rest of the weekend off. You happily warm up the food as you take a seat on the very large glass dining room table. 

Growing up, you had thought you would’ve made something of yourself by now. You had ambitions of traveling the world and viewing famous pieces of art and taking pictures of anything and everything. You wanted to meet with artists and be surrounded by different cultures. But that exciting part of your life was no more than a distant memory. This was your life now. You just had to find a way to come to terms with the idea. 

You don’t blame Namjoon, even if you had given all of that up when you decided to stay and marry him. You didn’t have to do any of this, and he didn’t ask this of you. You made this decision all on your own – there was no one to blame, but yourself in this situation. 

As the week passed by, you couldn’t help but settle into the same routine. You woke up early in the mornings, sometimes before the sun was even up, and went for a run around the neighbourhood. You ate breakfast, spent most of your day at school, then returned home late to grade papers. You did this repeatedly, day after day, until the weekend came along.

After a while, you had gotten used to being alone in the large house. You had already decided to spend the beginning of your weekend by relaxing and watching some TV before you had to really wrap yourself around your work. These papers weren’t going to be grading themselves and the more you push it off to the side the more work you would have later on. 

You took another sip of your tea, feeling content with how the now fully coloured canvas, you hum to yourself in content as you place down the brush on the table beside you.

You live for moments like this. Moments where you could just sit back and relax, not having to worry about anything or anyone. You love your job, there’s no regrets in what you were doing, but that nagging feeling in the back of your mind telling you could be doing more with your life was hard to ignore.

Art was the only way you could really express yourself without having to say anything, the pictures you took and the paintings you created spoke for you. They forever encase your emotions and your thoughts and are often your escape from the real world - giving you a place to create one of your own.

The moment is interrupted when the doorbell rang throughout the house. You pick up one of the rags next to you, frowning at the sudden intrusion. You weren’t really expecting anyone, especially not this close to dinner time.

“Hello, can I help you?” You question as the woman in front of you smiles brightly. You scratch the back of your neck when you remember you were wearing one of Namjoon’s old shirts, and it was covered in fresh and old paint.

The woman in front of you bursts out laughing, “(Y/N)! It’s so good to see you after all these years!” She squeals before throwing her arms around you, enveloping you in the tightest hug ever. You remained stiff in her arms when she began to jump up and down in, what you assumed to be, excitement.

Holding you at arm’s length, she moves your confusion from side to side, “You look so much older and prettier! Oh my, how we’ve both grown!”

“Do I know you?” You let out in a soft whisper, finally able to speak when the woman in front of you lets you get a word in.

“Oh! Right, I’m Namjoon’s sister. Well...estranged sister, we don’t really talk that much.” The woman continues to ramble on and on about how her family and Namjoon split when he decided to go in a different direction than the farm — even though you had already heard this story before from the man himself.

You haven’t heard much of anything about the missing sister, considering they just never mentioned her again. And frankly, the only reason you knew her name was because of your incessant ability of not letting things go.

“I’m sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous…” You watch as Hyuna glances back out towards the street with a troubled look on her face, which makes you become worried in return.

“Everything okay?” You ask her, finally opening the rest of the door and gesturing for her to come in. “Come on in, it’s warmer inside.” You offer her as the cold air hits you straight in the face.

“Oh, no. I’m sure Namjoon already told you, he told us to come whenever we were ready and... well, we’re ready!”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Well...Didn’t he tell you? Namjoon told me he was going to take care of his nephew, Taehyung, from now on, or at least until final exams. Taehyung has been in some trouble, so after contacting my brother, we agreed on my son coming here to live with you.” She continues, leaving you to take everything she just said in. Your husband hadn’t spoken to you in days, so of course he never mentioned any of this.

“We’d like for Taehyung to actually graduate this year. But ever since he found out he was adopted...it’s like he has decided to rebel, go against everything we ask and expect of him.” Hyuna sighs, “The divorce isn’t really helping things out either.” She mumbled under her breath before flashing you another megawatt smile, the bags under her eyes further accentuating how tired she was. “Namjoon agreed, and suggested Taehyung should have a change in scenery and repeat the year under his watchful eye.”

Watchful eye, my ass! He’s barely here as it is. — you think to yourself.

“Oh, did he now?” Your smile widening, while internally you were thinking about how you were going to kill him and get away with it.

“Well, I’m sure Namjoon already went through everything with the both of us so why don’t we get Taehyung settled in?” Hyuna asks you, her questioning smile erasing your thoughts of murdering your husband the instant you realize the boy was here.

“Wait, he’s here?” You frown in her direction, eyes following the taller woman as she gets up from where she’s seated and heads back out the door.

You stand in your doorway, watching with curious eyes as she stands by the passenger door – knocking lightly on the glass.

The boy inside glared at her, grumbling to himself as she continued knocking on the glass. It took a few minutes before he finally got fed up with her insistence, and reluctantly climbed out of the car.

He was clearly taller than Hyuna, with somewhat long, black hair that hung in front of his eyes. He was still in his school uniform, which made you guess this entire move was a surprise on his mother’s part.

Taehyung glanced around at the big houses surrounding him, a stark contrast to the ones back home. He never understood why rich people always wanted more space, he saw it as something completely unnecessary. Letting out a long sigh, he begrudgingly follows along when his mother grabs onto his arm and pulls him towards his uncle’s house.

Taehyung never met the man in question, he only knew what he looked like from the pictures in old family albums his mother kept hidden away in the basement.  

“Hello! You must be Taehyung!” You greet him with the biggest welcoming smile you could muster. You extend your hand out, watching the taller boy approach with a straight face and bored demeanour.

Taehyung only keeps walking, past you and through the open door – never letting out a word in either direction. “Don’t take it to heart, he’s not really that much of a people person.” Hyuna says as you awkwardly put your hand back down, nodding to yourself as you look back at the nineteen-year-old moody teenager looking around the spacious house with a look of indifference.

“It’s okay, I get it” You smile at Hyuna, “I’m sure he’ll fit in right away. Probably” You sigh out, feeling unsure of yourself as all the stress of the semester crashing down on you. You knew you still had a few more papers to grade your little break you took was not enough to make you feel even a little bit relaxed. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”  You ask her, closing the door behind her as the two of you follow Taehyung into the house. He still had on his coat and his backpack strapped to his back - as if looking for a hole to escape through. 

“That would be lovely!” Hyuna immediately agrees as she runs to him, wrapping her arms around the tall boy’s arm and dragging him into the kitchen.

You have no idea what you had just gotten yourself into, or what Namjoon was even thinking when he agreed to any of this – why would he do that in the first place without even mentioning it to you was beyond your understanding, the man was barely here in the first place.

You take another big breath before you slap on that big welcoming smile before you follow them into the kitchen. You were seriously going to kill Namjoon next time you saw him. 

//

You collect the dirty plates, a big smile on your face as you look at Hyuna’s face as she finishes shoving the last bite of food into her mouth. Groaning as the flavour hits her taste buds, “That was an amazing, best meal I’ve had in awhile.” Hyuna continues, praising your cooking as she puts her stomach. You move back towards the kitchen, quickly glancing at the boy sitting at the other side of the table – he hadn’t uttered a word the entire night, pushing his food around his plate as his music continues blasting through his headphones.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I haven’t cooked for so many people in such a long time.” You smile at the compliments, walking back to the table until you were standing right next to Taehyung. He looks up at you,his naturally puppy dog eyes looking at every inch of your face. “Are you finished with your dinner, honey?” You don’t miss the eyebrow raised at the mention of the pet name, before he pushes the plate towards you in a silent ‘yes’. 

Taehyung’s eyes stare at you the moment you walk away, going completely unnoticed by Hyuna and you as you set down the plates in the sink and turn on the tap.

“I should probably get going...” Hyuna hints, glancing at the clock on the wall before she’s grabbing onto her purse on one of the kitchen stools. You dry your hands on your apron, moving to stand beside her. You watch as she gives her son a hug, and leaves a lipstick stain on his right cheek, getting no reaction from the boy before she sighed sadly. “I’ll miss you, Tae. We’ll see you soon I promise.” You walk beside her as you accompany her to the front door, watching as she waves goodbye to her son one last time before she’s pulling you into an unexpected hug before quickly walking down the long driveway.

As you close the door, you take in a deep breath, wishing this was not all happening so quickly in such little time. You walk back into the kitchen only  to find Taehyung no longer sitting in the same position. But rather sitting on the couch in the living room, hugging his dark blue backpack to his chest and his luggage sitting on the floor next to him.

“So…” You start, moving to stand in front of him. His head instantly turns to stare at you, his eyes meeting yours with faint disinterest. “I should probably show you to your room.” You clear your throat, “I’m sure you’re tired after that long a drive” you say as you motion for him to follow you as you move towards the stairs.

You don’t look back, hearing his heavy footsteps following right behind you letting you know that he hadn’t ignored you. 

You take Taehyung to the other side of the house, to the only guest room with its own private bathroom. “The maid comes in every morning on weekdays  to tidy things up, I’ll let her know to make up your room after you’ve left for school in the morning.” You let him know, opening the door to the room – looking around at the soft blue sheets that decorated the bed.

“Bathroom is in there, the closet on the other side.” You point around at the different doors around the room. Taehyung drops his bags, sitting on the bed as he bites on his bottom lip. “You can go into the kitchen at any time, the fridge is fully stocked with late night snacks and I’m right down the hall if you need anything… Uh…” You stood there, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a blush running up your neck and settling in your cheeks – moving to walk out the door in the most awkward manner your body could muster.

“Actually” Taehyung’s surprisingly deep voice echoes across the room. Well, you were not expecting that.  “Can I have some more pillows?” He asks, looking at the two measly-looking pillows lying on the bed, he could already feel his neck hurt at the thought of sleeping like that. 

You quickly nod, finally glad to hear him talk at least. “Yeah, sure… I’ll go get them for you right now!” You smile widely before moving out of the room, thinking of where to get his pillows. In your mind, you were finally making progress with the Taehyung — even if it was something as little as this.

It took you awhile to locate a few extra clean ones, before you were walking back into Taehyung’s room only to hear the shower running and he was nowhere to be found.

You decide to clear the bed for him, mounting up the pillows in the most comfortable way you could. Your mind up in the air and distracted, that you never heard the shower being turned off, nor the boy now walking out of the bathroom, with a towel around his waist and small droplets of water now dripping down his naked chest.

Taehyung watches silently as you fluff the pillows, biting his bottom lip as he heads towards his suitcase. Maybe this won’t be as bad after all – he smugly thinks to himself as he moves to stand right behind you, a towel on his wet hair as you crawl off the bed, jumping when you hear him clear his throat from behind you before letting out a scream of surprise, blushing as you try to recover from the small heart attack that he almost caused you. 

“Taehyung! I’m sorry, I thought you were still in the shower.” You chuckle nervously, noticing just how close he was standing to you. So close that you could still see the small droplets of water dropping off his chin and down his chest one by one. Oh, it has been way too long since you were this close to a man, because this was no boy. You gulp, looking anywhere but at the man in front of you.

“I should probably go get ready for bed, it’s getting pretty late already... Have a good night then!” You squeal out before you dash out of the room in a hurry and head straight for the comfort of yours. You felt awkward and uncomfortable with what had just happened, whatever it is that JUST happened. 

Taehyung looked at the door after you left, thinking about how adorable you look when your cheeks went red and you looked completely flustered. He liked it when girls acted that way around him, he was used to it. Yet, there was something about you that he just seemed to like a bit more.   

You sit on bed with your class’s works laying in front of you, a collection of random black and white sketches for the first part of the assignment you had made them slave over this weekend. Your glasses were sitting at the tip of your nose as you try to keep your eyes from closing as you continue to type in comments of approvals and things they needed to work on for the rest of the semester.  It was already nearing two in the morning when you heard the garage door open, not moving from your position as you knew for certain it was no one other than Namjoon coming in at such a late hour. 

Your short suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later, when the very man was entering through your bedroom door with his coat jacket in his hands. “There’s my little workaholic!” You greet him, smiling up at him as he walks closer to you. Namjoon sends you a tired smile before leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

Namjoon chuckles tiredly as he throws his coat onto the end of your bed before he pulls on his tie as he heads towards the bathroom he yells back “Speak for yourself! You’re the one who brought work into the bedroom!”  You hear the shower running as you continue with your work, deciding to finish it tomorrow when you had enough sleep to be able to think straight.

You push your work from your lap before moving them to the floor, you look up at Namjoon with a small angry glare hoping he would get the hint a little bit quicker. You were mad. But, you weren’t going to tell him that, you were going to let him figure that out on his own. 

“What did I do?” Namjoon stops, slowly taking off his remaining sock, “Who says anything wrong?” You answer back. This prompts Namjoon to chuckle dryly as he rolls his eyes jokingly, “Maybe because when you get mad, you get this insanely cute pout on your lips?” 

You blush at the compliment, brushing it aside as you clear your throat, “When were you going to tell me you offer Taehyung a place to stay with us?” Your ‘stern’ voice resurfacing as you remember how angry you still felt. Or at least you did. 

 “I knew I forgot something important…” Namjoon quips, biting at his bottom lip as his forehead wrinkles in frustration. The same way he always did when he knew he was guilty of something – after so many years of being together, you liked how you knew him like the back of your hand. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. I figured I would sit you down for dinner before breaking the news to you, but I guess Hyuna had other plans.”

You keep silent as you watch him begin to undress, stretching his neck as he shrugs off the white button up. You bite at your bottom lip, putting the papers back down on the bed as you lean back and take a good luck at him. Namjoon turns around, leaning on his knee on the bed as he looks at you up and down as he takes off his watch. “What?” He smirked, his hands now reaching down to his belt, tilting his head to the side as he watches you rub your thighs together. 

“Nothing…”

Namjoon lets out a loud sigh, unbuttoning the top of his dress pants before crawling like a lion to his prey. His fingers gliding over the top of your naked legs, lustful eyes staring you down as he grabs onto your ankles and pulls you down swiftly until you're laying down on the soft bed underneath him.

He doesn't say anything as all traces of playfulness are gone as he moves your hair out of your face before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. Namjoon, lays his body over yours, a hand sliding down your t-shirt until it's sitting on the side of your stomach - slowly inching towards your chest, until his hand is gripping onto your bare breast and his lips leave a trace of kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

You could feel him grinding his hips against yours, grunting as he feels chills running all over his body. Namjoon could feel the pressure building up in the bottom of his stomach and the blood rushing down to his member. He grunts out, his lips meeting yours once again before his pulling away. Namjoon slides down your body, never looking away from you as he lays down in front of you. His gentle kisses on the inside of your thigh so very close to the place that has been neglected for far too long.

His hands grab onto your thighs, spreading your legs apart even wider as he settles in between them. You shut your eyes moving you feel him move your underwear to the side, his soft lips meeting your wet center. You sigh out in ecstasy as you feel him flatten his tongue against you. It has been way too long since the last time your husband had touched you in such a way.

Your hands wrap around his dirty golden looks as his tongue continues to flick against your clit in a quick manner, leaving your entire body a trembling mess. Namjoon smirks as your body arches, pushing further against his tongue before pushing his index finger into you slowly. He curls his finger against the inside of your walls, leaving you a moaning mess as you continue to tug on his hair. Your hands let go of his hair, running up your own stomach as you grab both of your breasts in your hands.  

You feel his lips sucking hard on your clit before pulling away with a ‘pop’ and you feel your orgasm being pushed closer and closer to the edge. All you needed was that little push.

Namjoon pulls away from you, hooded eyes staring down at you as he pushes his dress pants down his muscled thighs until his penis is standing fully erect in front of you. He roughly grabbed onto your hips, pulling you towards his body before the tip of his member was sliding up and down your clit.

Namjoon grunts as he pushes into you up to the hilt, feeling your warm, wet and pulsating walls surrounding him entirely. “God, I’ve forgotten how good you feel around me” He moans out as he begins to buck his hips into yours. His thrusts were short, but hard enough that you could feel pleasure shoot through your entire body. The little whimpers that let your body sound like music to his ears as he gathers up both your legs into his arms and throws them over both of his shoulders. With the new position you could feel him sinking in deeper within you as he begins to move faster and harder.

“Joonie…” You whine, your hands fisting the cotton sheets beneath you as the urge to cum intensifies even more. “I’m about to oh fuck…” the words never leaving your lips as your orgasm washes over you. Toe- curling, back arching pleasure washing over you.

Namjoon’s eyes shut as his hips move quicker, his own orgasm making his balls tighten as the snap against your ass before pumping you full of his cum.

Your heavy breathing could be heard echoing all over your bedroom, his groans joining. “Fuck” 

Namjoon whispers under his breath, pulling out of you before watching his seed spill slowly out of you.

You feel him slide the tip of his member up and down your lips before sliding it back in once more

You whine a little at the over sensitive feeling that shoots up your spine before your pushing at his abdomen.

Namjoon chuckles, pulling his now softening member out of you and laying down next to you on the bed, feeling completely exhausted. “I guess that means that I’m forgiven?” He jokes, looking at you with tired eyes as he bites his lip trying to contain his smile – you laugh out loud as you hit him in the chest in a joking manner.

“Stop it.” You mumble, your voice heavy with sleep as you lay your head on his chest. You feel Namjoon’s hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to his warm body as he props his chin on the top of your head.

Neither you nor Namjoon ever caught the pair of brown eyes that were looking at the two of you so intently from the half-opened door.

Masterlist >>

[firehananas]

I - Autumn's naps

The ones who can’t play | ~2000 words

“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” — Walter Winchell

"That's nothing serious," The doctor promises. "But you'll need to not run nor jump for some times. You can do that, right?" The black haired girl nods. It seems easy in her naïve mind. She wants to heal the faster possible, so she could play with her friends again. And she's ready to say yes to anything (and everything). She hurts her ankle pretty badly when she was playing tag, an hour ago. All tears abandoned her tiny six years old body as one of her classmates runs to found the teacher and, from that, to take her to the infirmary. And now, her leg is trap between a splint. She stands up, walks a bit to see how she can move. She probably looks weird. At least, it's not as painful as she thoughts. She's almost disappointed it's not broken because she could have a plaster cast: everyone would have made nice drawings on it. Oh, well. The doctor said she would have to stay in class at the playtime. She's depressed about it, but didn't argue. She just pouted in a fit of pique to be excluded from her games and friends. What else could she do anyway? Her parents are probably the most irritated and annoyed by the situation in that regard. She could still hear their scolds even now... When the playtime finally comes, she takes some felt-tip pens and a white sheet of paper. The child sight, thinking at this point it would be better to have stayed at home — and just like that, she starts drawing her house. "What are you doing?" Her orange eyes look up. It's a boy from her age — his name is Nikaidou if she remembers well. She knows him; he's in her class, after all. But she wouldn't say they are friends, not even acquaintances. He's just there, in the background of her life. "I'm drawing my house," She answers a bit flatly. "And you?" "Nothing for now. Can I draw with you?" She nods, and he sits quietly on the chair next to her. Minutes go by in the complete silence, save from the screams from the outside et and rubbings of the felt-tip pens. She looks at the clock, apprehending the end of this quiet moment. "Are you done?" She asks. She's curious about what he made. "Almost." He looks very concentrated on his task yet a bit unpleased judging by the frown on his forehead. The girl leans to have a peek on his work: he is doing a house too. Probably his she supposes. "Don't look!! It's not complete!" He screams as he puts his hands on his sheet to hide it. "Sorry!" She straightens herself, looks away before returning to her drawing. She already added the most colors, the most details as possible. There is nothing she could add... except maybe her name at the back. So she does, in her struggling and shaking handwriting.

kOTonE.

It's perfect now! "I'm finished!" Nikaidou beams at her as he moves his drawing to her face. She blinks, a little startled by his brutal swinging mood, before taking it. He takes her in exchange. Both children examine their respective artwork like some art connoisseurs, trying to discover all the details and hidden messages. "Is it your dad?" Kotone asks while pointing to the man with black, spiky hair and a tie bow. "Yes! He's always coming piking me after school." "Uh-uh! Me, it's my mom. If I have been good, she buys me nice snacks before coming back home!"

There is something else that draw her attention: the cars. There is one black, flat car, but it's the other one who intrigues her the most. A red cross is on the top, remembering her an ambulance. Maybe he wants to become a doctor? He seems to have drawn himself inside. "Your mom?" He shows the woman surrounded by pink hearts. "Yes! There is a lot of hearts because I looooove her!" "She looks scary..." "It's because she is! When she screams, even the neighbors can hear her! That's why I dress her as an Oni with a yelling mouth." "Oh, that's made completely sense!" He approves. "Thankfully, she's not always like that. She can be very nice too! Otherwise, I wouldn't like her, tehehe!" His smiles got wider, his legs start kicking the air under his chair with excitement.

"My mother isn't very often at home," Nikaidou comments, "But she is really nice. So is my father! How is yours?"

"My dad... is always tired. All he does at home is sleeping, watching the TV and smoking! He's not really fun. Super boring!" She adds while dramatically rolling her eyes. Suddenly she wonders: "Do you wanna be a doctor?"

"Huh? Not especially, why?"

"Why did you draw an ambulance?"

"Oh," His excitement fades instantly. "It's because I have to go to the hospital. My dad is going to go with me and will drive me back once I'm better." At first, Kotone thinks nothing of it... Until it rings a bell. She remember in the beginning of the year, their teacher have said to the classroom Nikaidou has a medical condition. It’s still pretty vague in her mind, but little girl understands better why he pictured that. Her thoughts quickly leave her mind as she focuses again on the paper. "Your rainbow is neat!" Kotone compliments with a very serious face. "Thank you! I really did my best to not exceed!"

With that, his cheerfulness comes back. They both continue chatting until the next class.

And this is how their friendship starts. For all the following playtime, the two would draw, make puzzles, read stories (or at least, try to) and play with anything they could find worth of interest. Like sticks, a snail she had sneaked on her way to school (she was caught and scold by their teacher. Before leaving, she had to clean the classroom. Even if Nikaidou only watched her slimy friend discovering the table, he helped her, so she could leave sooner.), her collection of Pokémon cards (she was green with envy at his. She has no idea how it's possible to have so many cool cards.), nice rocks where they drew funny faces and gave them silly names...

However, even if these times were precious and amusing, Kotone couldn't help but languish of the outside. Moving, running as she pleases, jumping in the water's puddles...

"To think I was the best at tag," The girl mumbles as she puts her chin on the table. "Being inside is so lame."

Nikaidou eye's raise up to his drawing to her, before turning his gaze away. He looks thoughtful. "Isn't it how you ended up hurting yourself?"

"Uh? Ah, yes. Takashi was after me," She looks straight into his eyes as her face becomes dead serious. "He was getting closer and closer, like a hungry wolf hunting a delicious rabbit. But! I wasn't going to get caught. I was going to use my ultimate technique: the banana strategy!"

"The banana strategy?" Her friend repeats with incredulity.

"Yes! It's my ultimate technique. When someone is running after you, you slow down to make them believe they won — and at the very last moment, you turn around and double faster!! Your trajectory is then just like when you open a banana!"

"Clever!"

"Indeed!" But her proud expression turns into a disgruntled one. "At least, until you fail to notice the small stair between the red and the grey space. And then, BAM!" She screams as she pushes the table, making her chair topples and her with it.

"Nakagawa! Are you okay?" The boy stands up and quickly approaches her.

"No: I am dead." Kotone says dramatically, eyes closed and tongue out. "Ugh."

Nikaidou snorts, making the little girl snaps open her eyes and smiles. She tries to get up, only to let a "Ow!" as a sharp pain jolt her ankle. Without hesitation, the boy reaches out to her and she gladly accepts his help.

"Thanks." Even though her thankfulness is sincere, her eyebrows knit together as she stares her splint. Kotone's cheeks swell: she is disappointed that after three weeks her ankle still hurts.

"This doctor was a dummy! Some times, some times — more like FO-RE-VER!" she screams as she kicks the chair with her good leg.

"Nakagawa! Stop messing around!" The teacher snaps as she comes closer. "What happen?"

Both of the children become awfully quiet, looking the floor as it could turn them invisible. The teacher simply sights, asks them to be quiet as she puts the chair up. Without out, an idea lightens her eyes as she cheerfully proposes to the students: "Hey, what if we made drawings on the class board? You would like that?"

"Yes please!" They cry as oneself.

Once the chalks in hand, doodles full the blackboard before the adult could blink. Too soon for them, they have to clean it as the bell rings the end of the playtime.

Soon enough, Kotone could walk without pain. Days passed has July come in and, with it, the suffocating summer warmth. But do kids care? Absolutely not. If anything, they play even harder until tiredness and thirst knock them out. And Kotone plays, plays in all the games she couldn't during this never-ending half month. Yet, she couldn't help but feeling she is missing something. It's not as fun as before. The girl doesn't understand why, couldn't find the word on this strange feeling. Probably because this is the first time she is experimenting this mixture of emptiness and bitterness.

The balloon flies away, escaping the playground where the children were doing their party of dodgeball. Kotone, already been out, runs toward it as she screams to her classmates: "I've got it!"

But as fast the black haired kid runs, the balloon rolls faster only to stop its course when it meets the wall of the elementary school’s building.

When she picks up with the balloon, her eyes meet Nikaidou’s ones.

He is sitting on the stairs, not quite alone as their teacher is watching him apart, but somehow she could tell he felt lonely. Without thinking much, she comes to him with a bright smile on her face.

"Nikaidou! Come play with us! We're playing dodgeball!"

But as soon she reaches him, a shadow passes on his face. "It's too hot for him," The teacher cuts. "He mights get very sick if he goes with you."

"Uh?" She glares at him, seeking any clues of illness, but he just looks as usual for her. She frowns as he looks away with an annoyed expression. "He doesn't look sick."

"Too much exercise may cause him to faint." The adult explains.

The girl keeps staring with a disgruntled face, her eyebrows narrowing further.

"Well, see you when you feel better!"

It's probably what she would have said if she didn't get a splint. But instead, she stays quiet. She thinks, thinks that she would have been ever more bored if Nikaidou haven't been there. Nobody did reach her — not necessary out of spite, more because of ignorance and brushing it off as not being a big deal. Kotone has come to realize it because not long before, she thought like them. And, more she watches Nikaidou, more it becomes obvious he's dying to join them, twisting his tiny puzzle piece in his hands with a pout.

"I come back." She says in a determined voice.

It's not she didn't want to play anymore. In all honesty, she would have preferred to go back with the other kids. But Nikaidou is her friend, and friends stay with each other in need or joy. Even if it starts with a fortuitous meet, if he's going to bore, at least she'll be bored with him.

As she gets her way back, the boy's face is radiating happiness.

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