Kkapture04

——————

Surrounded by a fluffy comforter, sturdy pillows, and the scent of Baran’s laundry detergent, you dig yourself into Baran’s bed. Having forgone your minimal-effort nightly skin care routine to quickly get into bed. A sharper pounding builds between your left eye and ear— having slowly increased from a dull ache since Arya went to bed a few hours ago. 

You’re seated up against the headboard, squeezing your eyes shut in the cozy low lighting of the room, trying to ease the throbbing. The world around you fades further; all you feel is the soft duvet beneath your fingers, the ever-growing headache, the counter-pressure of your shut eyes, and the slow volumes of cold air you inhale. From the ensuite, you can hear Baran humming to herself as she goes through her fifteen-thousand-step nighttime routine. Focusing on your breath, you try to settle. 

Baran’s humming stops. She steps into the room, and you practically flinch at the sound of her flicking off the bathroom light. She lets out an apologetic and surprised “Oh”. Your eyes squint open at the sound. She smiles endearingly at the action. “Sorry, Pretty, didn’t mean to wake you.” She coos, moving to click off a lamp on the table by the bedroom door. 

“‘M not sleeping. Headache. Thought I’d be fine, but it’s been getting worse.” You mumble, half-pointing to the left side of your head, digging yourself deeper into the bed. “Oh, why didn’t you say so, Khoshgelam?” You close your eyes again, letting out an unsure sound. 

“Let me get you some Tylenol, Baby.” She hushes as she presses a kiss to your brow, grabbing your glass off the bedside table. You hum in acknowledgment, starting to doze off. 

—

You feel the bed dip on Baran’s side. “Okay, I need your assistance with this, Aziz.” She lilts, hovering over you. “Hmmm, autism TicTacs, my favorite.” You can’t help but joke as you open your eyes to her holding out two pills. 

You chuck the pills into your mouth, and as you reach for the glass of water, Baran stretches her arm to keep it from your grasp. “Eshgham, the taste is disgusting, please.” You pout at her, and she shakes her head. “I know, but joking about medical misinformation is not funny. Some well--intentioned idiot might hear you and believe it, Love.” She tuts as she hands you the glass. 

You quickly take a few gulps to rid yourself of the powdery taste. “That’s why I joke about it in the privacy of my— our— your home, B.” You counter, stuttering slightly around your phrasing. She takes your glass from you and places it on her nightstand. “I thought so, Baby. Just needed to check.” She mumbles, brushing your hair from your face. 

She scoots down to rest her head on her pillow, her arms wrapping around your waist. “Come sleep, hmm?” She husks into the side of your stomach, her fingers drawing slow circles in your thigh. 

You slip down the bed, Baran’s arms tightening around you reassuringly. Your arm finds its way between her neck and her pillow. You peck a chaste kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, My Love.” You groan out, the words reverberating loudly in your head. 

“Sleep well. Asheghetam.” She whispers against your lips, her words somehow almost soothing the ache. She presses a quick peck to your lips before pressing the back of your head into her. Your cheek finds her collarbone and rests there familiarly. 

You breathe her in deeply, twice. “We can sleep in tomorrow. I do nights the next couple of of days; Arya knows how to entertain himself while I catch a few extra hours.” She speaks with a hushed tone. Your fingers twirl the ends of her curly hair comfortably. She kisses your hairline. 

You drift off with the steady breathing and heartbeat of the Persian surrounding you, distracting you from the dulling throb in your head. 

——

You wake up to a heavy feeling at the base of your stomach. Your eyes open to find Baran Al-Hashimi fully splayed across your body. You turn to face her, blinking a few times to adjust to the soft sun rays streaming in from the partly opened blinds. 

Your eyes crinkle as you take her in: Kindle in one hand, of course, a cup of tea in the other, and clearly lacking the shirt she wore to bed. “Hi, Sleeping Beauty. Was considering calling in the Navy SEALs; thought you'd never wake up.” She pointedly reads a final sentence before tossing the Kindle away, throwing out a joke. 

“Yeah? What time is it? I thought you were supposed to sleep in, Baranam…” You challenge, your thumb tracing the side of her ribcage. “It’s just past 11 AM. I got up to make some tea at a quarter to. Pesaram also appreciated it with his cartoons and cornflakes.” She speaks lowly, pulling away to set the teacup aside. 

She now settles more properly atop of you. “Hi, Beautiful.” You whisper, raking your fingers through her hair. Her lips quirk up. “Feeling better, hmm?” She inquires, tracing the left side of your head. You close your eyes at the tender touch. 

“Much. You're a miracle fix, Golam.” You flirt, your nose teasingly nuzzling with hers. She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re just with me to profit off my curative powers, Pretty?” She challenges, with a smirk. 

“Well, I have a heavy feeling in my abdomen. I think your fingers could work some magic to help with that, no?” You half-joke back, jutting your hips up. Baran's eyes darken, her lips finding your neck as she thrusts two fingers into your mouth. 

You do your best to quickly wet her fingers. She nibbles your neck, leaving small superficial marks as she does. “Baby, please.” You groan petulantly, using your tongue to push her fingers out of your mouth. 

Baran chuckles lowly at your demeanor. She adjusts to straddle you, while you share sweet, hot kisses. Her hand glides into your panties, fingers sliding through your folds. 

“Are you always this wet after a headache, Love? ‘Cause I've barely touched you.” She shares as she kisses along your lips. You grumble as she eases two fingers into your vagina.

Her thumb brushes your clit, causing you to close your eyes and throw your head back. Baran lets out an amused hum as you bare your whole neck with her reddening nips. 

She scissors her fingers inside you, immediately noticing that you’re less tight than days prior. Her thumb swipes your clit, teasingly, making you look back at her. “Aziz, can you?” You ask, meeting her eyes and pulling her free hand to rest on your abdomen. Her left palm presses softly into your abdomen, her thumb outstretched just below your belly button. 

She hesitantly puts more of her weight on her left hand, a steadying pressure against the pitting feeling. A warm gush of moisture surrounds her fingers. “Oh, Sweetheart, you really need this, huh?” She smirks at you. You glare at her, rolling your eyes before throwing your head back again. 

Baran leans over to kiss along your breasts, her fingers hooking pleasurably inside you. Feeling you tense up, she pulls back, sitting up straight like before. Her eyes focus on the dazed smile on your face as she eases her fingers out of your warmth. 

You whine at the loss of her fingers, while she brings them up to her mouth. You open your eyes, squinting up at her, eyes widening as she licks the tips of her index and middle fingerss. You stammer out an apology, as you scramble toward the headboard— away from her reach. She warbles at the metallic taste, eyes opening slowly as she pulls her fingers from her lips. 

Her eyes meet yours, flicking past her red-colored fingers. “Fuck, B. I’m so sorry. I promise this isn’t my regular cycle.” You look at the digital clock and calendar on the dresser. “Yeah, it’s only Thursday the 23rd. It shouldn’t have started for another week.” You rush to explain. “I swear if I knew, I’d never have asked you to—” 

You’re cut off by Baran calling your name. “Hey, it’s okay, My Love. Nothing to worry about; it’s all part of life.” She places a grounding hand on your knee. “Sure, yeah, but you just had your fingers covered in my period blood in your mouth.” You feel a need to point out the absurdity of it, confused as to why she’s extremely not put off by it.  

“So?” She simply retorts. You’re about to respond as she tuts. “Baby, your menstrual blood isn’t much different from what I’ve already had in my mouth. I bit your shoulder till you bled. And I’ve licked every square inch of your cunt, inside and out. So it’s technically nothing new.” She points out, like it’s the most logical thing. 

“But it’s weird, and definitely not medically advised to eat period blood, no?” You ask hesitantly. She smiles at you with bright eyes. “Sure, you can think that it’s weird. And we definitely don’t have to do anything while either of us is on our period. But it’s totally safe, Eshgham; the only medical hindrance is STDs. But we already know we’re good on that front.” 

She gets up from the bed, taking you by the hand, towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned and comfortable, Pretty.” She says turning on the shower, then moves to the sink to wash the driedied blood from her fingers. You strip before stepping into the shower, leaving your bloodied underwear to deal with after your shower. 

—

You step out of the shower a while later, feeling a little better and cleaner. Moving to rinse out your panties, you see your pile of nightwear gone. You turn to the sink, finding clothes for you. Dark shorts you had brought to Baran’s, a light cotton shirt— clearly Baran’s— and different kinds of underwear. Behind the pile is a tray with various period products: day and nighttime pads, tampons, and and even a menstrual cup. 

You get yourself dressed and situated before stepping into the bedroom, trying to find your girlfriend. The bed is stripped bare; just a mattress and pillows. The duvet is hung over her closet doors, to air out, you assume. 

Baran walks back into the bedroom, fresh sheets in hand. “Oh, hi, Koshgelam. How are you feeling?” She asks, placing the sheets on the dresser to wrap her arms around you. 

Her hands press into the small of your back, countering the back pain caused by your cramping uterus. “A little embarrassed.” You whisper into her hair, along the side of her neck. Your arms cross behind her neck, so she can’t pull back to look at you. 

“Don’t be, Love.” She tries to pull back to look at you but settles for kissing the top of your head. “AsAs I said, I’m comfortable with anything. As long as you are too.” Her hands rub warming circles on your lumbar region. 

“Most women have an increased libido during the menses phase. And I do hope you know that orgasms ease cramps, right? And I’d do anything to ease your discomfort, Babe.” She lilts with a humorous edge. “Oh, I didn’t know, no. But in hindsight, it makes sense. Maybe we can look into that another time?” You suggest pensively, letting go of her to help her remake the bed. 

“Thanks for the clothes and products back there, Aziz. Oh, and also my bloody knickers? I assume you took them, Freaky Girl.” You joke as you and Baran stretch a clean mattress topper on the mattress, followed by a mattress cover. She throws a couple of of pillowcases at your head; you barely manage to dodge them. “Of course, Dear. Are my products okay for you? I could run out and pick something up? It’s best to treat the stain as quickly as possible.” She laughs out loud as you roll your eyes at her going into laundry tricks. 

“They’re fine, Golam. The cup was intimate, though. I’d never thought my girlfriend would be open to sharinging a menstrual cup.” You giggle, stuffing one of the many pillows in the cases. “I mean, they’re more environmentally friendly. You can safely use them for a long time. Ideal for working in an ED, where bathroom breaks are rare. And if you normally use them, who am I not to share?” She admits, crawling across the bed to press a kiss to your cheek. You mutter, “Cutie,”  as you connect your lips.

—

“Maman, I’m hungry. What can I make for lunch?” Arya calls as he shows up in the doorway of the bedroom. He stops in his tracks, seeing you and Baran fooling around while struggling to put the cover on the duvet. The boy eyes the pair of you for a moment. “Oh, did someone have an accident?” He asks innocently, walking up and helping to straighten out the ends of the sheet that had gotten stuck on the duvet. 

“Yes, Pesar. Remember what I had told you about the bleeding most women do? It was that, but now it’s all cleaned up.” Baran promptly tells the boy. “How’d you know, Bunny?” You ask, looking at the nodding boy, who seems to take note of his mom’s explanation. “Maman cleans her bed at the beginning of the week. It’s Thursday. And I normally get clean sheets too.” He casually points out, helping you tuck the foot of the blanket under the mattress. 

“Done?” Arya asks no one in particular. At a lack of responses, he takes your arm and pulls you downstairs. “Keep up, Maman.” He calls back to his mom in Farsi as you reach the bottom of the steps. 

——

It’s the end of the afternoon, slowly nearing time for Baran to leave for her shift. “Okay, you two, your babysitter should be here in a little less than an hour, and then I’ll drop you off at your apartment on my way to the PTMC.” Baran perks up behind you as you’re seated in the backyard. Your back against her front, her Kindle in her hand while you read your paperback. Arya is lazily splashing around in his kiddie pool, enjoying how his water Barbies change colors when dry and wet. 

“Oh, is Hamsar not staying?” Arya gets out of his pool, dripping water onto the grass as he pads over to you two, a couple of yards away. “I’d much rather hang out with you all night. The babysitter is fun, but you already sleep here even when I am at Baba’s, and I love you more.” He stage whispers as he reaches you, keeping his distance to not get either of you wet. 

“You know what, Buddy? If Maman is okay with it, so am I. I love hanging out with you, even when you’re a slippery little fish.” You say, poking his sides and causing him to squirm and step out of your reach. “See!” You point out, causing the boy to giggle and bounce around in joy. “Yes, of course, I’m okay with that. But I just don’t want to force you into a parenting role. He’s not your responsibility; you don’t have to take care of him if you don’t want to, Aziz.” She speaks to you mostly, not wanting to push you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.  

“Thank you, Baby.” You intertwine your fingers with hers, resting on your abdomen. “But I don’t mind some parenting, and it’s not like we’re doing this relationship thing the conventional way. If you trust me alone in your house and alone with your son, then I’ll happily spend every night with him.” You place your book down on your chest and squeeze her hand in yours before reaching out and ruffling the kid’s wet hair.

Baran leans forward to whisper to you, “You’re my girlfriend, Beautiful. Not a babysitter, not a friend doing me a favor. If anything, you’re his step-mom-to-be, yeah?” She husks into your ear, placing a small kiss on your temporomandibular joint. 

“Right, Pesar? She’s not your babysitter, okay? You listen to her like you do me or Baba.” She elaborates to her son. He gives her a confused look. “Who?” He asks with a small smirk. Baran softly says your name; the boy echoes his earlier question, smirk growing. “Hamsaram.” Baran huffs, feigning annoyance at her son’s trickery. Your eyes mirthfully track the interaction between mother and son, feeling Baran’s playful frustration as her son clearly gets his wish. 

“Okay!” He chirps, before poking your side, causing you to jolt at the cold, wet finger. “You’re my mother now, too.” He grins at you, before freezing as his mom sends him a look that says Be cool. “If you want. You’re still Maman’s hamsar first.” He stammers out, suddenly nervous as his mom made him realize what he said, fidgeting with his fingers. “Of course, Honey. I’d love that, but maybe you an me should first be friends before I become your mom or your mom’s wife.” You grin at your girlfriend, whose cheeks turn bright red at your understanding of her words a minute ago. 

—

As Baran is changing to leave for her shift, you casually talk about what to do with your cat. Arya and you— you’re totally the one spearheading this— suggested Mop comes to their house, at least whenever you’re there, so no one has to go and feed her, and she isn’t alone. You would talk more about possibly bringing Mop over tomorrow. You hand Baran your apartment keys so she can stop by and feed Mop on her way to and from work. “B, I can also ask Cass to feed her. At least tomorrow morning, then you can just come home after your shift.” You practically whine, arms wrapping around her waist. 

“Then we can sleep together for a bit longer.” You whisper, with a certain intention in your tone, conscious of her son roaming around the house. “Sure, Shirinam.” Baran agrees, resting her head in the crook of your neck. 

Arya sneaks up to the doorway “Boooo!” He screeches out, trying to scare you. Baran merely snorts, shaking her head. While you act like he scared the living daylight out of you, crouching to the floor and letting out a yelp. 

Baran pulls you to stand. “There’s entertaining his behavior, and there’s going overboard, Golam.” She tuts at you. You raise a brow challengingly. “Pal, scram, will ya?” You tell the boy in a joking manner. “Otherwise, I’ll make you shower as your mom leaves, so you can’t say goodnight.” You threaten. Of course, it’s an empty threat, but he doesn’t know that. Arya zips back to the yard to continue splattering in his pool before you make him shower and change. 

“Babe, why exactly are you joining the Nightcrawlers for the next few nights?” You moan as you two make your way downstairs, not happy to sleep without her— during your period, no less. She should be beside you, cuddling you all night. “I wanted to see how Doctor Shen runs his shifts, see if there’s anything either of us can change to streamline the standard of care more.” She explains, grabbing her work purse, double-checking for all her necessities. 

“Be honest, you just want to bully Abbot into acting like a normal person, don’t you?” You say. Baran stills, making you know you’re on to something. “Holy shit, that was a joke. But really?” You laugh out, grabbing her shoulder to stay upright. “Eshgham, I can’t be laughing like this.” You giggle. “I’m bleeding like an ox, please.” Your giggles relent as her hand finds your abdomen, causing you to settle. 

“Asheghetam. You’re fine, Love.” She whispers with a loving smile as you face her, leaning in for a kiss. 

—

“So, I feed Mop, work, Cassandra will feed her in the morning. I may do groceries; we’re running low… ” She goes over her planning out loud. “And you, please shower that smelly boy.” She calls out so Arya hears her. “Order something in for dinner— again the fridge is practically empty— Please send me the bill, and I’ll pay you back. Bedtime no later than 9.30 PM.” She reminds you of what to do with her son. “And you, make sure to get something high in iron for dinner. Don’t want you to become iron-deficient, Joonam. And there’s some dark chocolate hidden in a tin on the fridge.” Her voice goes down at the last part, not wanting her son to overhear. 

“Sure, Love. Consider it done. But no need to pay me back, you’re not my sugar mommy.” You smirk, speaking under your breath as you kiss her. “One more.” She murmurs, pulling you back for a deeper kiss. Stepping back, you turn your head and call Arya, “Sharkboy! Come say goodnight to Maman!” You hear him dripping on the patio. “Towel is on the back door handle, Sweetie.” You tell him, anticipating he was about to ask for a towel, knowing not to get the floor wet. Baran grins at how you so tenderly command him. 

“Bye, Maman. Give Mop a kiss from me. Have fun at work.” He chirps wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tight. “Of course, Honey.” She responds, kissing his head. “Okay, Maman, time to go now.” He orders as his hand slips in yours, free hand waving her off. You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s behavior. 

Baran scoffs at him, looking at you incredulously. “I carried you for nine months, birthed you, and cared for you for over eight years, and you toss me aside like I’m chopped liver?” She states, in blatant insult. “No, Golam. He’s just excited for something new.” You kiss her cheek and push her out the front door. She huffs, and you give her a little pat on the ass as she walks out the door. “Bye, Pretty Girl!” You call as she gets in her car. “Bye, Maman, asheghetam.” Arya giggles, smirking up at you.

—

While Arya is in the shower, you order dinner. Opting for something relatively quick and easy, you order Mexican. So after his shower, you’re situated on the couch, movie playing as you wait for dinner to be delivered. You put on Remarkably Bright Creatures, despite it being PG-13. Arya promised you he didn’t get scared easily. After all, you’d seen raving reviews back when it came out, none called it scary. 

When the doorbell rings, Arya rushes to the door in his dinosaur onesie with a cat children’s face mask. You sluggishly follow him, having grabbed some cash to tip the delivery person. You pull up beside Arya, wearing the same children’s cat face mask. 

The delivery woman coos, at your matching masks. “Aww, how sweet. You and your son look adorable.” The woman tells you, dropping the bag of food in Arya’s outstretched arms. 

“Yeah, we’re having a self-care night, right, Bunny?” You say, handing the woman her tip as you brush some hair from Arya’s mask. “Yes, while Maman is at work, we have extra much fun.” He happily tells the woman before thanking her and rushing back to the living room. You bid the woman farewell as you close the door. 

—

Faces washed, food gone, and the movie coming to an end, you ask Arya if he’d like some chocolate for dessert. 

He nods enthusiastically. “From Maman’s secret tin? Want me to get it?” He suggests, getting off the couch. “So it’s not as secret as she thinks?” You question, trailing behind him to the kitchen. “Nope!” He says as he clambers up onto the kitchen counter. You stand beside him to ensure he doesn’t fall as he victoriously grabs the tin. 

—

It’s 10 PM. You’re in bed, calling Cassie. One window cracked open to let in the fresh night air. It had started to thunder in the distance, a steady rainfall pattering on the roof. “So there we were in the bathroom. Him trying to brush his teeth while I had a wet rag and needed to scrub all the chocolate off his face.” You recount as your sister cackles. “How touching, Bro. You’re really digging this domestic thing, huh?” She points out, with a hint of jealousy. “I love them, Pea. The past two weeks with B and a week and a half around her son have just felt right.” A flash of lightning catches you off guard; seconds later, thunder crackles in the distance. 

“Aww, Kiddo, you’re really in deep. And I haven’t even met her— them yet.” Cassie emphasizes, wanting to know who has your heart as well as make sure ‘B’ is good for you. “I know, Cass. Soon, okay? She’s working nights right now, so I’ll try to find an evening that works for us all.” You offer, knowing your sister is getting antsy at not knowing who you spend most of your time with. 

“Fucking finally. I mean, you practically live with her, and all I know is her name ‘Bea’.” She states. You’re about to respond as you hear your name and soft knocking on the bedroom door as it’s pushed open. “Wait a second, Cass. I’ve got a kid at the door.” You warn your sister, placing your phone beside you, turning your attention to the boy in the doorway.

“Hey, Hon, what’s up? You were asleep when I checked on you half an hour ago.” You ask, waiving him over to your side of the bed. You pull him to sit beside you at the edge of the mattress. “I— I— uh, the thunder woke me. I thought maybe you would want protection from it. And you could protect me from the wolf eels, they were in my dreams.” He whispers shakily, hands once again fidgeting. 

“Oh, Baby boy. Hey, don’t be nervous; that’s why I wanted to stay, to take care of you.” You pull him into you. “Come here. Got your favorite plushie?” You ask. He nods his head, holding up a scruffy-looking bunny. The sight of the light blue, beaten-up bunny makes you laugh— it matched the nickname you gave him: He bounces in excitement like a bunny. 

“Do you want to sleep on Maman’s side or mine?” You ask, pointing to your respective sides. “Yours.” He whispers, letting out a yawn. You hum at his words, scooting further toward Baran’s side of the bed and grabbing your phone as you do. You tug him toward you so he’s practically in the middle of the bed. 

You hold out your phone and put it on speaker. “Hey, Pea, I think I’m gonna have to hang up.” You tell your sister. “Do you want to say goodnight to my sister, Ari?” You ask the sleepy boy. “Hi, sister.” He says coherently before mumbling, “I like … sibling.” You half make out as he drowsily turns to your side. 

“Hi, Kiddo. I’ve heard a lot about you. Am looking forward to meeting you.” Your sister responds. Arya lets out a hum. “I fear he may be too far gone to have actually heard that. So sleep tight, Cass. And don’t forget to feed Mop before your shift tomorrow.” You tell your sister. At the word ‘Mop’, Arya suddenly opens his eyes, half awake. “Moppie? Can you give her my kisses, Khahar?” He says, still a bit sluggish. “Sure. Goodnight, you two. Love you, McNugget.” Your sister wraps up, hanging up after you echo her words. 

You send out a short text to your girlfriend:

Hi Love Hope work is treating you well Just fyi, we have a little bunny in our bed Thunder and PG-13 movie🤭 were a bit too much…  Xxx miss you💋

You switch off the bedside lights, engulfing the room in darkness. Only the nightlight in the bathroom sheds some dim light through the cracked bathroom door. “I quickly need to go pee, Bun. I’ll be right back.” You tell the half-asleep boy as you scurry to change your pad for the night. 

Returning, Arya is quick to scoot into your side. His bunny-clutched hand finds your stomach. “Is your tummy okay? Maman always has very bad tummy aches when she bleeds. They’re so bad that only my hugs help, so I get to sleep in the big bed.” He whispers into the dark room. You pet his short curls. “I feel a lot better now. Your Maman is right.” You tell him, getting comfortable in the bed. “Now sleep, Sweetie. You help me with my cramps, and I’ll protect you from the lightning and wolf eels. And then in the morning, Baran will join us.” You order the boy, who’d already dozed off halfway through. 

——

Baran comes home on Friday at 8 AM. She quietly shuffles all the grocery bags to the kitchen. Thank god for grocery stores that do pickup. After putting away all the products that need to be stored in the fridge, she shuffles up the stairs, dead tired. She finds you with your arms wrapped protectively around her son. She can’t help but feel warm at the sight, snapping a quick photo of you two. 

She shrugs off all her clothes, seeing how comfortable you two look. She’s so grateful she showered at work so she can get right into bed. She closes all the curtains— you likely forgot to close— stopping the early morning sunlight from beaming in. She goes to the bathroom, to brush her teeth. There, a sleep shirt is waiting for her, with a toothpasted toothbrush. 

Minutes later, she slides into bed behind you, kissing your shoulder as you hum in acknowledgement of her presence. “Hi, Aziz.” You say, still clearly in dreamland. “Salam, Baby.” She greets, pressing herself flush against you. Her arms wrap around your waist, her arm under you resting on your abdomen, her arm over your body holding her son, still close to you. 

It takes her a minute or two, just breathing you in and feeling your comforting inhalations against her chest, before sleep finds her. Surrounded by her little family, her favorite people.

——

Saturday morning she comes home from her shift, to a house covered in multicolored Post-its. A pink trail leads to the kitchen, to a glass dish with a lid. The Post-it reads ‘Have a bit before you come to bed ❤︎’ in bold letters. Underneath it— clearly scribbled on later— ‘Unless you haven’t eaten, then first have some leftovers. In the fridge.’ She pulls the lid off the dish; beneath it is a dense fudgy brownie. Not the dish I usually use for brownies, but the thought is there. She thinks to herself. 

She moves to the fridge, not really hungry but rather curious about what you left her. On the fridge door, a yellow Post-It in unsteady and varying letters reads ‘HurrY up MamaN wanT gudnite gOOdNITghT kIss’. You clearly tried to help Arya with his spelling, even after he got overly confident that he had spelled correctly. Then a blue Post-it beside it, with an arrow pointing at the yellow one, reads ‘Yeah,دلتنگتم(Deltangetam, my heart has tightened for you > I miss you) > Thank Quora for the spelling, Arya tried…’

Opening the fridge, she finds a plate with neatly twirled spaghetti in red sauce, cheese grated on top, and a row of neatly placed meatballs around it. You’ve obviously put in time to plate it out for her. The Post-it in the fridge reads ‘<- Seriously hungry; Chef Mike 2 minutes. Or quick + just a snack ->’. Following the snack arrow, her eyes catch a small bowl with cucumber spears, halved tomatoes, rolled-up slices of chicken breast, and a few blocks of cheese. 

She picks up the bowl; underneath, she finds another Post-it: ‘I knew it!’ This makes Baran check under the plate, just to see if you hedged your bets. There, the Post-it reads ‘Made ya look xx at least try a meatball, Ari seasoned the fuck outta them :)’. She scoffs at being predictable…? Or at you knowing her so well. 

She makes quick work of finishing the bowl of bites, ending with a meatball. She’s caught off guard by the combination of seasonings with the mince. You’d clearly let Arya roam free with the spice drawer; some spices she tastes have no business being in a meatball, but it works— in a weird way. She grabs a spoon and scoops a small bite of the brownie, not wanting to get her hands dirty. She moans out at the taste; it’s magical.

Walking back into the living room, she concludes that you and Arya had color-coded the Post-its. Making her way up the stairs, yellow ones with drawings were stuck to the stairs; alternating between three stick figures—presumably you three, hearts, possibly dinosaurs, and rabbit faces. 

Meanwhile, your blue ones at eye level on the wall had more sinister things on them; ‘MILF, mother I’d love to FU—’, ‘U so sexy’, ‘Smartypants❤︎’, ‘I NEED YOU B’, ‘Smokeshow’, and ’Never work nights again pls!! :/’. 

At the top of the stairs, she first makes her way to her son’s room. On his ajar door, she finds a yellow post-it: ‘HI Maman, lOve You❤︎’. She enters the room and simply admires him as he sleeps. She tucks his blanket around him a little tighter and kisses his forehead. 

Walking out of his room, she sees a blue Post-it on the inside of his door. ‘He’s the cutest thing :D’. She smiles, taking one last look at her son before leaving the room. 

Your shared Her bedroom door is also ajar, with what she assumes to be a final Post-it— little does she know, you and Arya spent the evening making a multitude and hiding them all over the house—  ‘Welcome home, Koshgelam. Come to bed xx’

Pushing the door open, she sees you fast asleep in the center of the bed, your arms stretched out to where Baran should, and will shortly, be. The sight urges Baran to make quick work of changing and brushing her teeth. In the bathroom, on the mirror over the sink, she finds another Post-it; this one makes her snort: ‘I really want to eat your 😺’. 

Shuffling into your awaiting arms, she lets out a comforted sigh. “Good morning, Pretty. Did you like the scavenger hunt?” You mumble, pulling her deeper into you, fingers tenderly tracing her strained back muscles. “There were a lot of them, Babe. And you’re quite daring with your words, you minx.” She whispers against your collarbone, leaving a teasing nip there. “Love, you haven’t even seen the half of it yet.” You laugh back at her. 

“Oh, and that brownie. Fuck, it’s divine.” She pulls her face from your chest, now face-to-face in the dark room. “Nearly better than you.” She speaks against your lips, before pulling you into a hungry kiss. “It’s a Ghirardelli mix, a family favorite.” You cut the tension as she pulls away with a yawn. 

You caress her face, making her close her eyes. “You’re off, the next two days; plenty of time to fuck.” You kiss her mouth, giving her one final peck before forcing her head to your chest. “Sleep, Baranam.” You murmur, while your fingers brush soothingly through her curly locks. 

——————

Author’s note

Remarkably Bright Creatures is a great movie, I do recommend everyone to watch it!! Guys I so lost the plot while writing this, I thought this idea would be 2K words max… so yeah :) 

ATM I have 1 hour to edit, to reach the deadline I set for myself (12PM GMT)>> I did not make it :/ hihihi nearly 2 hours later than I hoped, haven't even started eating my breakfast :)

Like, reblog, comment, interact, all that good shit 💕

xx Liz

maybe you were never taught how to be — examples can be hard to come by, or even harder to learn from when provided. maybe it is something lacking in you, an instinct that should be there but isn’t, a missing piece of you that has caused so much confusion.

you’re not sure you do very well with baran’s son some days. you never thought you were cut out to be a parent, always too concerned by one thing or another to give it much thought, and when baran and her son joined your life you were always paranoid that you would seriously fuck everything up.

but you are woken up by flowers shoved into your face on mother’s day. they are made of paper and have been hastily taped to stems and scattered all over you by the seven-year-old that has snuck into your bedroom.

“do you like them?” he asks quietly, leaning up on his tip-toes. “I made them for you at school.”

“for me?” you whisper, and sit up carefully so as not to wake baran, who is still asleep beside you. “did you make some for your mom, too?”

he nods. but he doesn’t care about that right now, only that you are gathering up the paper cutout flowers and are arranging them into a little bouquet.

“they’re perfect,” you say. your voice is still soft. you don’t lecture him for entering your room without permission, or for waking you up early with his own sleeplessness. “thank you, I love them.”

the little boy smiles. he looks so much like his mother when he smiles, when the joy reaches his big brown eyes and it makes your heart ache because you’ve seen that exact same look in the eyes of the woman lying beside you so many times before.

you press a quick kiss to baran’s cheek before you get out of bed. you’re still careful not to wake her, because you’ve been planning your own surprise for today.

you stand up and lean down to give her son a small hug. then you take the boy’s hand and lead him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where you warn him to keep the volume down on the ipad on the counter when he reaches for it — he still likes watching cartoons in the morning.

“are you gonna help me?” you nod over to the eggs you have just set on the kitchen counter next to his device. “or are you going to make me do all the work but tell your mom we both made her breakfast?”

he giggles at that, loud enough that you glance back toward the bedroom to make sure baran hasn’t heard.

“that’s what your little plan is, huh?” you ask.

he shrugs with a smile, a silent affirmation, and then turns back to his cartoons.

you start making breakfast. you listen to the cartoons playing on the ipad and you start a pot of coffee while the eggs cook on the stove, letting yourself wake up slowly. you prepare a plate, one of the nice ones you keep in the back of the cabinet, and a tray with silverware and a rose on the side of it.

you don’t hear baran come into the kitchen, and you don’t notice her until her arms wrap around your waist and her chin comes to rest on your shoulder.

“you’re cooking?” she asks. “is the world ending?”

“let’s hope not.”

“I’m helping!” her son calls, and you realize he disappeared into the living room for a while to put the cartoons on the big TV — which you now assume did the trick and woke up your wife.

“we were going to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” you tell her, turning in her arms. “I guess it’s not much of a surprise anymore.”

she’s about to respond when her son rushes up and starts pulling at her arm, telling her ‘happy mother’s day’ like you reminded him to and pulling her down into a hug. baran coos something to him in farsi, something you can’t quite pick up, and then her son turns to you next and repeats the ‘happy mother’s day’.

you’re not sure what to do at first. you melt into baran’s arms when she pulls you close and you manage to nod when she asks if you’re okay, and you feel her reach around you to turn the burner off.

“I love you,” she says at last, cupping your face in her hands.

“I love you too,” you reply. you nod over to the eggs on the stove, which aren’t quite… presentable. “I promise we have other gifts for you later.”

she smiles, shaking her head. “I don’t need gifts, love.”

“you deserve them, and he wanted to get them for you.”

“there are some things we got for you, too.”

“I’m not his mother,” you say.

“are you sure?” her hands run up your waist, down to your hips, and she pulls you closer. “I don’t think he feels the same way.”

“and what about you?”

“I think you’ve been there for him,” baran says, “more than his father has sometimes. and I think that has to count for something. I notice, my son notices— our son.”

“ours,” you repeat, smiling softly. you nod, accepting it, and you feel a little weak in her arms as if surrendering to her and to the family you’ve built, intentionally and not.

baran presses a quick kiss to your cheek before moving away. “I’m going to go turn the TV down before our kid wakes up the rest of the damn neighborhood.”

“he gets that from you— waking up so fucking early, I mean.”

“he didn’t get it from you,” she says, as if you were related to him. “you sleep like a rock.”

“you’re going to make me insecure about it.”

“it’s a good trait to have,” she says. she disappears into the living room.

you lean forward against the kitchen counter, close your eyes and breathe in deeply. you don’t always feel this at peace today, and even as you stand there you can feel your chest tightening, something dropping in your stomach.

baran is back now. “are you okay?”

“you already asked me that.”

“I know,” murmurs, turning you around and pulling you into another hug, “but I felt like I should ask again.”

“I’m fine,” you tell her.

“tell me if you’re not.”

her family isn’t without issues, either. you know that. “you too.”

she nods. then she glances toward the doorway and raises a brow. “someone is spying on us.”

you look at the little boy standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “is everything okay?”

he looks a little bashful. “I was wondering if we could have pancakes… and waffles.”

“I think I can make that happen,” you say, and then turn and frown at the eggs on the stove. “as long as I don’t burn everything.”

—

—

—

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She hadn't laid down with you because she wanted to fold laundry.

Which—okay. Yeah, it's starting to get to you.

Baran doesn't often leave you wanting. She doesn't like the distance anyway. She likes to touch. To kiss.

Currently, she's doing neither.

You sink deeper into the couch cushions, simmering with the neglect. You know you're being ridiculous, but it's really too far out of your control. You'd woken up cold, unkissed, un-held. She hadn't tried to pull you back into the shower—logical? Yeah, but you don't want logical. You want her as irrational as you're being.

Really, had she even kissed you properly since she came back? (No.)

But the laundry sure is getting a whole lot of her attention. She's as meticulous with it as she is with everything else, shirts folded along crisp edges, a perfectly symmetrical stack continuing to grow at her side. She's sunk into that deep focus of hers, humming an aimless tune under her breath. Her bottom lip is a little pushed out, her hands working sure; she doesn't even notice your staring, too immersed in carefully folding a cotton tank top, tucking the sides in like she'll be graded on it.

There's only so much you can take before it all grows unbearable.

You shift a little on your side, reaching your hand out to the empty stretch of cushions between you. "Baran," you say.

She doesn't look up. Hums an acknowledgement, murmurs, "Yes, my love?"

You feel the sulk dragging your mouth. Baran's question hangs, stretching over your head. You wither in the following silence, huffing at the glaring absence of her gaze on you.

Does she notice? No. She takes a sip from her lake-sized water bottle and continues folding.

The other end of the couch feels like an ocean away. The sun streams in through the window and pours its light over her, turning her highlights golden, suffusing her skin with a glow. She's devastatingly beautiful, her hair all damp, soaking patches of her shirt and darkening the fabric, making it cling.

Your heart tugs.

"Doc," you try again, your voice muffled into a pillow, "I feel kinda funny."

Bingo.

"What?" Baran looks up, her hands stilling. "What's wrong?"

You stifle your smile, force it down behind your hand. "My head hurts. Like." You rub at your temple, over the arch of your brow. "It's pounding so bad here, feel like it could explode." You blow out a breath, make your voice go a little groan-y, which isn't hard.

A crease forms between Baran's brows. "When did it start?" She lets go of the leggings in her hands, gets up from behind the island of clothes and sits down next to you, reaching over to thumb at the same spot. "You slept well last night. Are you drinking enough water?"

"Mmm, yeah, think so. It started this morning, kept building up." Your hand falls to her thigh, fingers curling into her warm flesh and squeezing. "Kiss?" You murmur.

She immediately obliges. Her lips brush the edge of your eye, fingers nudging away the baby hairs there. You bite the inside of your cheek.

"You don't feel warm," she says. This close, you can feel it all: the tickle of her hair, the smell of her curl cream, her skincare. Her worry. "It must be those damn screens you keep looking at all day."

"Hmm, maybe," you hum, turning your head and massaging your other temple. "Hurts so bad here, too."

Baran kisses your brow without you asking. "Want some Tylenol?" She murmurs, gently pressing her thumbs to the pressure points behind your eyes. The action stills her, makes you smile.

"No. Kiss?" You ask again.

This time it's to your mouth. You hum, try to deepen it, but she pulls away to say, "What about a compress?"

You shake your head, not entirely faking your pout.

It's unlike any place you've ever been, under her. Trapped on either side by the cage of her elbows, pinned down by her unfairly doe-like eyes.

See, you're not really asking for much, are you?

You press one of her thumbs down harder on your temple. Baran hums sympathetically, gently increasing the pressure, shifting her palms down to press them against your cheeks. Her lips find your forehead, a soft, careful press.

"I can get you some—"

"Don't get me anything." You tangle your fingers in her shirt, dragging her back before she tries to move. "Just kiss it better, yeah?"

You can't help it—a bit of a laugh seeps into your voice, and she gives you that look, and you know you're caught.

"Come on, baby, I don't feel so good." You murmur, carefully crushing her curls in your fist, pulling her closer. "You've been ignoring me, it feels like shit."

"I haven't been ignoring you." She insists. She doesn't get far before your lips are on hers, not really a kiss so much as a peck, your smile a touch too wide. Baran cups your cheek in her hand, still chiding, "It's barely even the afternoon, how could I have ignored you in the three hours you've been awake?"

"Meanly." You say, kissing a freckle on her cheek. You feel her huffed laugh, her hand pressing against your chest, not forceful enough to push you back. Her fingers curl into your shirt; she turns her head, catches your mouth with her own, doesn't stay long enough to sate you.

"I thought you were the one who's hurt." She says softly, that teasing curl to her lip.

God, your heart clenches.

"I'm all better now."

Really, you are.

Your eyes scanned the room for the newest attending, but you couldn’t find her. Most of the day shift was gone. Once hand-offs were completed, they all booked it out of here, ready to sleep and do it all over again tomorrow. But she was still here. Her Lululemon jacket was half-heartedly thrown onto the back of a chair. She wasn’t with Robby or Jack as the two were talking about the events of the day. Where the hell was she?

“Hey, Parker,” you stopped the night shift Doctor as she walked by. “Was Al-Hashimi in the break room? She left her jacket.” You jerked your head in the direction of her jacket, and she followed your gaze.

“It was empty when I was in there,” she said when she looked back at you. “Heard Robby tell Abbot she went to the roof.” Dammit. You cursed under your breath, but you forced a smile, thanked Parker, and wished her luck.

Today was bad. Not your typical busy, chaotic ED environment, but different. It was trauma after trauma, and their body’s were done fighting by the time they got to you. It was one of those days that made you question why you worked here.

Quickly, you finished your charting. Touched base with some of the nurses and said good night to Robby and Jack. With her jacket in hand, you pressed the elevator button. Once you were in and the metal doors closed, you leaned back and closed your eyes.

This thing between you and Baran was complicated. When she first arrived at the PITT with her changes, you were hesitant to accept her. Change always scared you. But you began to understand her. She desperately wanted to fix a system that was stubborn to change.

After a case where you lost a patient, and the parents took their anger and grief out on you, she stood up for you. Once you both clocked out, you invited her out for something to eat. Maybe she leaned in. Maybe it was you. But you kissed her in the back of the booth of a dimly lit bar and brought her back to your apartment because her son was at her dad’s.

This thing was casual, no strings attached. When you both felt the pressure and stress of the ED, you fell into bed with each other. Was it healthy? Probably not, but you were both consenting adults.

Then something shifted. When you were alone in your apartment, your mind went to her. You wondered what she was doing. Was she taking care of herself? You wondered how she spent her days off with her son. Would she be listening to music while she cooked? How would it feel to spend the morning with her in your arms, with no rush of the ED calling?

Sighing, you walked out of the elevator and pushed open the door marked ‘employees only’. Baran’s back was to you as she looked over the city. Your stomach plummeted as you saw her on the other side of the railing. Realistically, you knew she wasn’t going to jump, but the thought fucking terrified you.

Instead of calling out to her, you carefully walked over. You saw her body tense when she discovered she was no longer alone. “You left your jacket down there,” you put it on the metal railing. “Figured you might be cold.” You could see the goosebumps form on her arms.

“I’m not gonna jump.” She mumbled.

“Never said you were,” you responded with a shrug. “Just here if you need me.” Baran looked at you. Brown eyes that were sad and wet with tears that she refused to let fall, and she showed this side of herself to the others. She had to be nothing less than perfect when she ran the ED.

“Today fucking sucked.” You barked out a laugh, not expecting her blunt statement.

“Yeah, it sure did.” A comfortable silence fell between you, too. The city’s sound was background noise to you as you stared at the attending. Her hair wasn’t as put together when she first started the shift. Constantly running her hands through her hair loosened some of the definition in her curls. The bags under the eyes seemed darker. Still, she was breathtaking.

Sighing, she ducked back under the railing. Finally, you felt like you could breathe easier. Slowly, she put her jacket on and fixed her hair. “Why did you come up here?” You turned to face here, elbow resting on the ledge.

“Is it that surprising that I care about you?” You questioned. Baran frowned. Tentatively, you stepped forward. When she stayed, you moved closer until you felt the warmth of her breath against your lips. “Why did you come up here, Baran?” You spoke softly. “Why were you on the other side?” Instead of answering, she looked back towards the city.

“The noise got too much,” she admitted. “Just needed it all to stop.” Carefully, you placed your hand on her chin and forced her to look at you. Your thumb rubbed patterns on her skin. Even with only the lights of the city, you could count the freckles on her cheeks. It was your favorite activity while she slept next to you. The attending leaned slightly into the contact.

“Come home with me tonight,” you said. “Let me take care of you.” You were expecting a fight, an excuse for why she couldn’t. Baran was many things, and one of them was stubborn. But the opposite happened. Her shoulders dropped. The weight of expectation and responsibility fell.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You smiled and kissed her cheek.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Lucky, no one seemed to bat an eye as you and Baran walked out of the elevator, grabbed your stuff, and walked out together. Well, besides Jack. The man sent you a smirk and wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off.

Once outside, you placed a hand on her lower back and guided he to your car. Not in a controlling way, but you needed to feel her against you. You needed to feel the deep inhale and exhale she took at each step away from the hospital as she finally let the stress of the day go. The warmth that seeped through her scrubs and jacket. You needed to feel her because your mind began to wander. If you had never gone to the roof, what would have happened?

You opened the passenger door and closed it when she was in. A quick jog around the front of the car, and you were on the driver’s side and started the car. It seemed instinct for your hand to rest on her thigh. Slowly, her fingers traced the lines and scars of the back of your hand. The simple action sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s healing nicely,” she said as you looked at the scar on your knuckles that she was examining.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I had a hot doctor taking care of them for me.” Baran rolled her eyes, but a faint smile appeared on her lips. It was the first smile you’ve seen since Whitaker slipped on something suspicious and took out the sandwich cart. That happened at 0830.

The scar in question happened because of a fight between you and Robby. You loved the man, saw him as family, but you hated how he took his bullshit out on everyone else. You couldn’t even remember what you said as you defended Dana, but you remembered the punch you threw at the wall in the stairwell. Baran found you with bloody knuckles and a lot of guilt.

You pulled into your parking spot and parked. Baran got out before you could open the door for her. It took you both no time to climb one flight of stairs and unlock the door. “Take a seat. I’ll make us something to eat.”

Baran scuffed. “I’m not that incompetent that I can’t help with dinner.”

“I never said you were,” you took her bag from her shoulder and dropped it next to yours. Your hands went to her waist, and you maneuvered her to your couch. She fell down on the cushion with a quiet huff. Before she could stand up, you knelt between her legs. “I said I wanted to take care of you,” you untied her left sneaker and slid it off her foot. Your thumb dug into the arch of her foot. Again, her shoulders sagged in relief. “So let me take care of you,” you gave her other foot the same treatment. “I am going to cook us something, then run you a bath or shower, then we are going to bed,” you explained. “Is that okay?” Baran shook her head. “What is wrong with it then?” You asked with a laugh.

Without a word, she sat up, put her fingers underneath the neck you wore, and pulled you closer. Your hands grabbed the back of the couch so you wouldn’t fall on top of her. Which seemed to upset her. She frowned, pulled you closer until your chest was flush against hers.

Finally. Finally! Her lips touched yours. It felt like years since the last time you kissed her. Which was a little dramatic, but two days without it felt like years. Baran kissed with the precision she used in her everyday life. She knew how to take you apart and put you back together quickly.

When your lungs needed a break, you pulled back with your forehead against hers. Her heart was rapidly beating against yours. “I don’t think I deserve you, Azizam.” The pet name in Farsi was your undoing. At the beginning of this thing, she never let them slip out. She would let some curse words out in her mother tongue. But the pet names. Azizam. Asalam. Jaan. Words that felt foreign on your tongue and their meanings were sometimes lost on you, kept locked against your heart.

“Funny,” you mumbled against her lips. “I was thinking the same thing.” A final kiss to her lips, and you stood up. “Now sit there, put on a stupid reality TV show that you love, and relax.” A smile was back on her face.

“Please,” she grabbed the remote from the table. “You love the shows too.” You went into the kitchen without a comment. You hated them, actually, but you loved her laugh and smile, so you endured them.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Dinner was simple chicken and pasta with red sauce. You brought over two waters and the bowls of food back to the couch. “Thank you.” You smiled and ate in silence. You both probably ate a little faster than normal since you both were surviving on empty stomachs. You put the dirty dishes in the sink to deal with later.

“Shower or bath?” You asked.

“Bath,” you answered without hesitation. “Only if you join me.” You held out your hand for her to take, and you led her to the bathroom.

You turned on the water, added essential oils, and made sure the body was in reach. By the time you were happy with the setup, you turned to face Baran, who had already shed the scrubs she was wearing. You couldn’t help but stare. You’ve seen her naked; seen her at the heights of pleasure on your bed, couch, and everywhere in between. This felt different, more intimate. “You’re starring.”

“Can’t help it,” you smiled. “You are gorgeous.” Baran held out her hand, and you took it.

“Let me help,” she said softly. “Please.” And you weren’t going to deny her such a request when she asked so nicely. Her hand pulled your top over your head. Next came your bra. Her fingers traced the tattoos that were usually covered by your scrubs. You weren’t embarrassed by the goosebumps that followed her touch.

She made quick work of your pants and underwear. Baran wasn’t hiding the way her eyes looked over your naked form. “Like what you see?” You smirked.

“You know I do.” Oh, you were well aware. Some mornings, after you would wake up with hickies all over your chest. You held Baran’s hand as she stepped into the tub. Once she was settled, you climbed in behind her. Your legs on either side of her, with her back resting against your front.

The warmth of the water helped relax your tense muscles. You heard Baran sigh. You grabbed the body and put a healthy amount on a cloth. “Sit forward,” you whispered. She followed your instructions, and you began to clean her back, paying close attention to her shoulders. Baran moaned as you focused on a tough knot.

“You have magically hands.” You chuckled.

“You’ve been on the receiving end of my magically hands more than once.” Baran pinched your thigh. You smiled against her shoulder. Once her back was done, you cleaned her arms, chest, and parts of her legs that you could reach. You placed the rag on the edge of the tub and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“This has been nice,” you weren’t blind to the hint of surprise in her voice. “Tonight felt very domestic.” You kissed her shoulder.

“Did you think I couldn’t be domestic?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, it was me.” You frowned. Before, you could question her, but she turned around to face you. You put your legs together, her so she could sit down. “My marriage fell apart because of me. I couldn’t hold down a relationship during medical school. I don’t know how to do this.”

“First of all,” you said slowly. “Your marriage did not fall apart because of you alone. There are two people in every relationship.” She opened her mouth to argue, but you cupped her cheeks in your hands. “Second, I don’t want perfect. I just want you.”

“I’m a mess,” she whispered. “A perfectionist with PTSD and absence seizures.”

“And I’m overly protective with anger issues and depression that I should be medicated for.” Baran chuckled, shaking her head. “All I’m saying is, we all have our shit. Just don’t push me away. I’m here, not going anywhere.” Baran smiled, brown eyes filled with a vulnerability you’ve never seen before. You could get lost in her eyes. Warm, beautiful, and filled with light that many tried to put out.

Her hand held onto your chin, and she kissed you. Like everything tonight, this felt different. It was slower. Every time you tried to rush, to fall back into the same pattern as before, she slowed you down. She kissed you like she had all the time in the world, too. In this moment, there was no place you would rather be.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Once the water turned cold, you both got out. Her nighttime routine was more in-depth than yours. So you brushed your teeth and gave her space in the bathroom. While she got ready, you unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. Once the kitchen was cleaned, you went back to your room to find Baran curled up in your bed, as she belonged there. In your opinion, she did. You smiled as you climbed into bed next to her, turned off the lights, and cuddled close. She turned in your arms so her head rested against your chest. “I never said thank you.”

“For what?” You hummed, closing your eyes.

“Pulling me off the ledge.” With your eyes still closed, you kissed the top of her head.

“You pulled yourself off,” you mumbled. “I was just there to tell you that you were strong enough to do it.” Baran let out a shaky breath, you felt against your heart. Her lips pressed against the organ.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” You smiled.

“Good, because I’m already falling, I’ll meet you at the bottom.” Baran laughed; the sound echoed in the quiet room.

“Goodnight, Eshgham.”

——————

You’re in the kitchen at the counter, making breakfast— a little thanks to Baran for picking you up last night. You’re dressed in the white button-up Baran had worn the night before and a pair of knickers. With your back turned to the doorway, you hear footsteps just outside the kitchen. 

You call out, “Hey, Babe, I found ingredients for waffles. Hope you’re okay with me making some.” You’re met with silence, so you to turn around. There in the doorway, you see a dark-haired boy.

Flabbergasted, you stutter momentarily before straightening your blouse and hesitantly speaking to him. “Oh, you must be Arya.” He nods and asks your name. You try to feign confidence in your state of undress— if you don’t make it a thing, he likely won’t notice.

He repeats your name a few times, mulling it over, he nods his head in approval. He steps towards you to shake your hand formally. You can't help but swoon at the action. “Hi, nice to meet you. Are you Māmām’s hamsar?” You school your expression, trying your best to let your relationship with his mom seem as neutral as possible. 

“Sorry, Sweetie, I don’t speak Farsi. But do you wanna help me make waffles until your mom comes down?” You suggest, turning to show him the waffle iron. You hadn’t really spoken about meeting her son yet, so you’re not sure what to introduce yourself as.

He agrees and goes to wash his hands after pulling a step stool— he clearly helps often— up to the counter. “You’ll learn. I can teach you if you want”. He says decisively as you help him up on the stool.

“So, how would you tell me your name in Farsi?” You ask, guiding him in pouring batter onto the iron. “Well, ‘esme man Arya ast’.” You echo his words. He giggles, sounding all too similar to his mom, and you smile. “No, Silly, you’re not Arya.” 

“Sorry, teacher—” You give him a light shove. “I’m just trying to say exactly what you say.” He smiles. “Okay, that's smart. So, esme shomā chīyae?” 

You slowly sound out the earlier the earlier sentence he taught you, assuming he's asking what your name is. 

He claps his small hands, smiling widely. “Good job! You’ll be speaking with Māmān and me in no time.” He pats your shoulder.

The kettle clicks off. You step away from the waffle iron to grab it, then look up at the boy “Are you allowed to have tea, and would you like some?” You ask while grabbing mugs from a cabinet.

He looks at you skeptically. “Māmān lets you make her tea?” You look at him with a questioning gaze. “Yes, I have made her tea before.” He nods conclusively. 

“Māmān, never lets my dad make her tea when we’re all together.” He whispers, like it's his best-kept secret. He grins widely, and you can't help but mirror him with the new information. 

“Yes, please, in my dinosaur mug, please. She's yellow, see!” He points out as you grab the mug. “What a pretty mug, Bud. I think I'd much rather drink from this one than the plain ones your mom uses.” You joke, flattering his dino mug. “Oh, then you can have it, if you really want.” He offers, focusing back on the waffle iron. 

You rub his back as you pour hot water into the teapot. “Hey, thanks for the offer, but she's all yours, Sweetie.” You smile kindly at him. 

Baran walks down the stairs, fully clean from her shower and dressed. She calls out, “Eshgham, did you say something?” before turning into the kitchen and finding you with her son. She pauses in the entryway, you and Arya turning to her from the counter. 

“Salam, Pesaram. I didn't expect you till later. How was your dad’s?” Baran asks, her tone a little softer. You help Arya down from the stool, and he runs to wrap his arms around his mom. “It was good, but I missed you sooooooo much, so he brought me sooner.” He explains into his mom's stomach. 

Arya looks up at his mom and smirks. “I've met hamsarat.” Baran flushes slightly, stammering out a response. “She’s not my hamsar, Baby.” She brushes his hair back as she glances up at you, busying yourself so as not to intrude. 

“But she's not wearing pants. You always say I can only do that at home. And you let her make tea, you called her ‘Eshgham’ and she’s really nice.” He says in Farsi, pointing out what he’s seen. 

“You’re too smart sometimes, Ari. She’s still not my hamsar. But she is my girlfriend. That’s what people like us are when they aren’t married yet, Pesaram.” She explains, and he slowly nods, processing the information. 

He hugs his mom tightly. “I like her.” He whispers. “I do too, Ghorbunet Beram.” 

She looks over at you, struggling not to eavesdrop. She smiles at the gesture. “Love, go get dressed. We’ll finish the waffles.” She nods her head toward the stairs down the hall behind her. 

“Okay, Pesar. Help me?” Baran proposes as she walks over to the counter. She kisses your cheek and smacks your ass as you walk past each other. You widen your eyes at her, caught off guard by her behavior. 

— 

Upstairs, you tug a pair of jeans and a bra out of your overnight bag, quickly shrugging them on. You find your phone typing out a text to your sister and your friend group with hurried fingers, going back and forth between the chats as replies come in.

Cass, I just met her son (accident) but hes the cutest thing on the planet! He shook my hand!!!!!!!!!! when I introduced myself Hey! I thought Hare was the cutest thing on earth? He is, but hes not a well mannered mini me of the woman in falling for🫣 Bullshit save, asshole Tell me more 🙏 Can’t were about to have breakfast xxx

Pitt party girls🫶💅

Screaming, crying, throwing up Huh, are you okay?? We all ate the same, your alcohol tolerance is higher than mine, and I’m mostly okay! I just met her son SHE HAS A CHILD?!?!?! Huuuuuh? While in panties and a blouse of hers😭😭😭 Ahahah #1 sight to see u in #wbk 😛 Bro how the why the fuck 💀 Vic u still at Cass?  Uhh no, she brought me home a bit ago Why? SHES WITH OUR BOSS She fuckn dcr AI She’s dating Baran I thought my drunk ass made that up… Did you tell us in the bar???? I did… You must have been in orbit babes 🥴 And they showed us!!! Maccie was basically humping her on the sidewalk 😈 Ws rly hawtt 🥵🥵 Damn I missed all that :(((( If u wert so drnk… McKay wld gve U som bby💅 (🧡4)

—

You walk back into the kitchen, now properly dressed to meet your girlfriend’s son. Baran is putting away the ingredients you used for the waffles. Arya is manning the waffle iron, mostly independently, like a champ. You move behind Arya and his step stool. “You doing well, Bud?” You pat his shoulder as he hums. 

You move on to your girlfriend, hands loosely settled around her hips. “Hey, you shouldn’t be cleaning. This was supposed to be my thank you for last night.” She leans back into you, her head falling to your shoulder before she presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“No need to thank me, Aziz, ever. And I should apologise to you— we hadn’t even talked about you meeting him. And then he shows up while you’re not dressed and alone.” She whispers back to you.

“It happened. It’s okay with me if it is with you. He’s a nice kid.” You say turning your head towards him. ”A real polite and dapper gentleman, even. Introduced himself, shook my hand, taught me some Farsi, and washed his hands before helping.” He beams up at your compliments, and you wink at him.

“Māmān didn’t wash her hands!” He retorts, snitching on his mom. You gasp, putting on a surprised face. You grip Baran’s hips, pulling her flush against you. “Baranam!”

“Hey, I just showered, so I’m clean.” She defends herself. You and Arya shake your heads in disagreement. 

“I saw some strawberries in the fridge. Permission to cut up a few for the waffles?” You ask. “Of course, Darling.” Baran murmurs. “No, actually, My Love, I was asking the boy.” You grin at Arya over Baran’s shoulder, and he smirks back. “Yes please!!” He giggles, and Baran grumbles with a smile. You give her a quick peck as you head to the fridge. 

—

Arya races around the living room as you and Baran clear the table. “And so the sugar rush begins.” You announce with a chuckle as he zips past the doorway. Baran hums. “Well, unless his dad gave him all the sweets he could find, it’s not sugar that's got him like this.” Baran interjects, you let out a confused “huh” at that. 

“He’s excited to be home and ecstatic about you.” She explains, both her hands settling on your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you lean your forehead against hers, breathing each other in quietly. The sun’s heat glows through the window, the soft buzzing of bees in the flowers outside, and the pitter-patter of Arya’s little feet running around the downstairs floor. 

Suddenly, a weight comes barreling into your side. A small arm wraps around your waist. You glimpse down, and Arya is wrapped around you and his mom as best as his little arms can. You smile at his form, eyes closed and completely lost in the embrace. You place your hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades.

A crinkle appears in his brow, the same one his mom gets when she smiles at you. Clearly, he enjoys this, having you here. You can’t help but feel a simmering sense of lightness in your heart. 

You glance up at your girlfriend. Her eyes are already on you, obviously having seen the interaction. Her eyes shine golden, not just because of the sunlight beaming in, but with adoration for you.

You see something in her snap— too much affection for her to contain. Her arms tighten around you too, momentarily constricting the two of you. “Mom!” Arya groans

—

The three of you are playing tag in the yard. “Thank you for powering through. This must be an onerous task while hungover.” Baran says as she runs after you in the yard.

“I don't know what that word means, Smartypants, but I’ll assume it’s not positive.” You stop running, turning to her as she runs into you.

“Burdensome, taxing, just not great.” She explains, before poking your nose. “Tag, sorry Eshgham.” You stand there frozen with betrayal. Arya giggling as he runs by, Baran smirking wickedly.

“It's not, though. He’s great. And my hangover vanished when he came in. Well, honestly, it disappeared when I woke up to you looking as pretty as ever.” Your eyes follow Arya around the yard, communicating silently. He comes running up, standing beside you.

“Tag!” You whisper against her lips as you tap the boy. Then you kiss Baran deeply, leaving her dazed as her son tags her. 

You pull away, and both run to the sizeable sycamore tree. You help Arya up into the tree and clamber up yourself. You hold his hand as he struggles to settle himself safely.

You manage to perch yourselves a bit higher up, so you’re safely out of reach of the eldest. Arya and you cackle as Baran finally snaps out of her daze and looks at you two in shock. 

You’re seated on a sturdy branch; Arya is between you and the trunk, your arms on either side to keep him safe. He waves at his mom with an impish smile

She walks over to the tree, jumping to see if she can touch either of you. She can’t. “You only just met and are already ganging up on me?” she calls in exasperation. “You’ll have to climb up here to tag us, Beautiful.” You tease, Arya agrees vehemently. “Âré, Māmān.” 

Baran plays it smart. She grabs a chair from the garden set on the patio, climbs the tree with less effort and more gracefully than you just did. Then, before you can even blink, she’s standing at eye level with you. “Oh shit.” You let out softly, your eyes widen as Arya giggles at the expletive.

Baran tuts in disapproval. You mumble an apology. Arya frowns at his mother. “Māmān always says ‘fuck’, and she loves the word ‘cunt’. I’m just not allowed to say them.” Arya counters his mom’s glare at your curse word. 

“Now kiss, so we can get down. I’m thirsty.” The child orders, tipping his head back to look between you and Baran. You can’t help yourself. “Hi Thirsty, esme man Arya ast.” Baran laughs in surprise at you speaking Farsi. Arya lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he set himself up for it. 

Baran holds herself safely to the tree with one arm as the other comes around your back. She kisses her son’s cheek with a loud ‘mwah’ causing him to giggle. She then kisses your cheek gently, your arm on her side draping around her middle, pulling her close. 

In the comfort of the slightly odd hug, you all let out a serene sigh. Baran whispers contentedly, “All mine, and perfectly so.” 

—

You had drunk some tea with the mother and son and were now drawing on the patio. You and Baran are both drawing in the various coloring books they have. Baran had told you she loved to color with her son and has since occasionally started doing it on her own to wind down after long days. 

Arya is scratching around on loose papers. You lean back, looking at the pair. You can't help but feel warm at the wholesome time in the family. Baran feels your eyes on her. She looks away from her drawing, her cheeks flush at the attention, yours at being caught. You send her an air kiss. She slow-blinks at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling with affection. 

“I think I'll order a Lyft in a bit? I've already hijacked so much mother-son time. And I've got a child to feed.” You say lowly, not wanting to draw Arya from his drawing. 

Arya looks up. “You have a kid too? Can I meet them?! I don't want you to go. Maman, please let her stay!!!” He begs, looking between you and his mom.

You cackle. “No, no human child for me at the moment. I have a cat, Mop. And she needs to be fed, or she'll get mad and cranky when I'm home.” You tell the boy, shaking your head at your cat’s behavior. 

“Oh, but I can still meet her, please?” He counters, wanting to stay together. You look at Baran and you read something akin to agreement in her eyes. “Yeah, Babe, we could drive you home?” She suggests, her hand reaching out to take yours. 

“No, My Love. You've already driven me around so much. You haven't seen this sweet boy all week. And we'd decided that you'd have the weekend for the two of you. I've already been here longer than intended.” You state, not wanting to start a discussion you emotionally have no wish in to win. 

You take her hand to your lips, softly kissing her knuckles. “However much I love spending time with you, I don't want it to burn out. We've seen each other all week. Besides didn't you and Arya have fun things planned for this weekend? It's your bonding time, not mine.” You say, forcing yourself to shut the pair of them down. 

—

Arya hugs you tightly when saying goodbye. “Today was really nice. You're a good person, and sweet to Maman. Can I see you soon? I love you.” He blurts out, without pause. You can’t help but coo at his words.

“You're right Kiddo. Today was really fun. And I’ll see you before you know it. You're amazing, Rockstar.” You ruffle his hair, then lift him up in your hug. He lets out a squeal. You put him back down, standing up to greet Baran. 

You caress her face. Your ring, middle, and index finger tracing her hair line to her chin. “Have fun, Aziz. Text me when you want, okay?” You whisper in the small bubble you’ve created.

“Of course Eshgh. The same goes for you. We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” She whispers back, closing the gap between you. It’s a tender, sweet kiss, mainly to convey all your feelings— nothing rushed. 

——

You've been in bed, tossing and turning for what felt like forever. It's too cold, but Mop beside, on or near you, is too warm. You just can't seem to find rest or peace. You’ve already gotten up to make some tea, drink cold water, and pee, but nothing seems to help you settle. 

You grab your phone off the nightstand, eyes squinting at the brightness of your screen. It reads ‘2.26AM’. You decide who cares and text Baran. She'll read this at 7 am most likely. At least she'll know you thought of her. Pusillanimously, you text her, a little embarrassed that you miss her this much. 

Hey Golam I cant sleep, thought id text you Mops annoying, I miss you, miss your scent Hi Sweetie

Her response catches you off guard. This woman goes to bed at 10 PM every day, 11.30 PM the latest. What the hell?!

I've been struggling to fall asleep too 💔  I hate not having you here. I miss you💋 Awww🥰  My bed still smells like you but idk its not enough Im just so tired but no sleep :/// This week I went from best sleep in ages to worst ‘sleep’ in ages 😩 Omg babe are you okay?!?!! I mean, technically I am? Why? You made a joke through text and used a non-corny emoji   I think you may be delirious  Yeah, delirious from missing you 😭

You decide to FaceTime her, and she picks up at the first ring. Both phone screens are black due to the lack of light. “Hello” She mumbles. You hear commotion— she's likely turning around with her phone.

“Hi, Gorgeous. I should have listened to you and Ari. Then I'd be wrapped around you right now. My lips on your skin and your hands all over mine.” You practically whine, sleepily. 

You spend the next who-knows-how-long softly whispering to each other. Baran tells you about an interesting research article she read in the New England Journal of Medicine Friday night. Her words get quieter and quieter until you assume she dozes off.

You think of hanging up, but even her breathing and soft snores bring you relief from what you’ve been missing. Eventually, to the sounds of Baran, you go out like a light. 

— 

You feel like you’ve been startled awake. Unsure of what triggered such a quick awakening, you look around your room: Mop is on the far edge of the bed sleeping peacefully. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, especially with an unreactive cat. You look at your phone, propped up on your pillow. The call is no longer active. She must have hung up, you think to yourself.

You unlock your phone to see texts from Baran— or well, her phone from nearly an hour ago. You're quick to assume these messages were sent by Arya. Your heart lurches, as you read his words.  

Maman issaad canyuo come later? I think sheccrying in theshower☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ Meand maman missyou💜

Just as you're about to reply, your doorbell rings. You slip on a pair of shorts and pad over to the intercom. “Hi?” You ask, voice rough from poor sleep. “Khoshgelam, we brought yogurt bowls. Can we come in, please?” Baran's voice lilts, similarly rough, yet somewhat obscured.

“HIIIIIIIIII!” Arya screeches loudly through the intercom. You buzz them in, unlocking your door before heading to the kitchen to make yourself some precious coffee. 

You hear commotion by the door— Baran telling her son to take off his shoes and calm down. Before you can turn around, his small body crashes into you.

“Hi,” He whispers with your name, “I missed you.” You crouch down to give him a proper hug. “Hey, Big Guy, I missed you too.” He mumbles a vague ‘up’, so you carefully lift him to sit on your hip, turning back to the coffee machine.

Baran walks in with bags in hand.  “Asalam, you're getting too big to be carried.” She says, condescendingly, as she puts the bag on the counter. “No, it’s okay Baby. He's not too heavy yet, and I love how much he likes me.” You dismiss as his arms grip you tighter, while making a coffee for Baran. 

“Okay, Bub, give this to B. Careful, it’s hot.” You tell the boy, handing him her cup as you turn to his mom. “Befarmaeed(here you go), Maman.” He says giving her the cup.

“Mersi, Azizanam.” She responds, kissing him on the cheek and leaning in to kiss you. She deepens the kiss moments after your lips touch. She's starved for your touch. You can’t help but get a little turned on by her actions. 

She whines into the kiss, and you hear a tone of neediness in it. Your mind flashes to places you don't want to go… at least not when holding her son. You're a little taken aback by her brazen moves. Arya is quite literally between the two of you, his small head only inches from your connected mouths.

Baran's hand slides into the back of your shorts and panties, fingers gripping your cheek tightly. You let out a moan, swaying a little. 

Your intimate daze is broken as Arya giggles frivolously. You force your eyes open and take a step back. You stumble slightly as Baran's fingers still grip you. You take her in as she opens her eyes— pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, and chest heaving. You pointedly look at Arya in the corner of your eye, and she only grins. 

“What did you think of that, Baby Boy? You can say it in English.”She asks in Farsi, bringing her coffee to her mouth. “LOVE! Maman is way happier than this morning. She's so happy and in love.” He says, mostly to you, with big, bright, honey-brown eyes beaming up at you. “Thats right, Pesar. Besides you, she makes me the happiest.” She hums in agreement with him. 

Arya wiggles to get down. “Where’s the kitty?” He urges. You absently direct him to your bedroom, where Mop is most likely still sleeping. 

“He’s right, though, Joonam(my life). I do.” She husks, stepping closer to you again. You blush as you roll your eyes, looking over her shoulder to where Arya ran off to. “Thats nice and all.” You dismiss, taking her empty hand and sliding it down the front of your pants, letting her feel your wet pussy. “But this isn’t, not when I’m holding your— or anyone’s— kid while you’re doing this.” You say with a hint of an angry pout. 

Her fingers come up to gently rub your clit before slipping back down and collecting as much of your cyprine as they can. Her fingers aren’t soaked, but you can clearly see the shimmer of you on them.

“Asheghetam.” Baran murmurs as she takes her slick-covered fingers into her mouth, obviously making a show of licking them clean for you. She moans as her tongue comes out to lick between fingers. You cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together. “Baran.” You hiss out in a groan. 

She pulls her fingers from her mouth, saliva strings connecting the two until she wipes her fingers on the inside of her top. She presses a wet kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself.

She softly pats your cheek and forces your jaw shut as she pulls back. “Ready for breakfast, My Love?” She challenges, turning to grab cutlery and bring the takeout to the table. 

——————

Author’s note

Spent half the week since part 4, hungover :) or writing/editing. I’ll be coming back from a week trip to Berlin when this goes up(queuing it up). So hopefully heading home happy and full of hearts <3

Like, reblog, comment, interact all of it 💕

xx Liz

——————

The next morning, Baran’s alarm wakes you again. You roll over, onto her body. “Fuckin’ hate your job.” You croak, yawning into her neck. “Well, I fucking love waking up to this. No matter how grumpy you are, Love.” She rasps, placing a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you on her as she reaches to turn off the alarm. 

She rubs your back with her fingertips. “You can go back to sleep, Princess. I’ll try not to wake you when I get up in a bit.” She whispers, kissing your crown. You groan, nuzzling deeper into her neck. “No, I can sleep more after you leave.” You press a light kiss to her pulse point. 

The action makes her nipples stiffen, squished under yours. You hum as you place more kisses along her jugular. “You like that, Golam?” You tease, feeling her heartbeat quicken under your lips. 

Her hips buck up into yours. You pull back, biting your lip as you look into her pitch-black eyes. “Still needy after last night?” You quip, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her face. “Dreamed I was sleeping next to this beautiful creature, and I woke up and it was true.” You rock your hips against hers, smirking at her cheesy words.

She takes your hand and brings it to her clothed center. Your fingers lightly brush the fabric. “You’re something else, Miss Al-Hashimi.” You kiss her lips as your hand slides into her panties. 

Rubbing her clit leisurely, you slowly work your way down, trailing sweet kisses and little bites down her stomach. You suck cute hickeys along her inguinal ligaments, both left and right, then a couple on hypogastric region— knowing these marks will be unlikely to be seen. She lets out soft groans, revelling in the pain and love you bring her. 

Her fingers grip your hair, pushing you further down. You lick her clothed folds, causing her to relax and tense up at the same time. You pull down her panties; she raises her hips to help, also getting her aching cunt closer to your warm mouth. 

You puff hot air against the heated core, taking a second to take her in: fresh from slumber, pussy already glistening, hair slightly jumbled, and bright eyes finding yours. “You’re radiant, Baran.” You coo, kissing her inner thigh and nibbling the relaxed muscle. 

Sliding your hand around her hips, your nails find purchase just below her hip. This allows you to dig your nails into her stomach and hold her steady. Your other hand rakes nails up her hamstring and glutes, then slowly but deeply scrapes her lower back. 

Baran grumbles in frustration, already feeling on edge from the sting of your scratches. “Baby, please! Stop teasing Mommy.” Her hips jut upward slightly, held back by your grip. You tsk at her movement, “I was about to give in. Now you’ll have to give me a minute.” You harshly sink your teeth into her pelvis, just above her pubes. 

Your girlfriend lets out a pained yelp, and you pull back, checking if she’s okay. With darker eyes than you’ve seen before she smiles at you, pushing your head back to where it was. “’T surprised me, but felt great.” She exhales as your lips and tongue softly soothe the bite. 

You press one soft kiss on her pubic bone before giving in. You lick through her wet folds, taking your time. You hum as you savor her taste, which you’ve become addicted to no time. Your tongue swirls her clit, and Baran’s breath hitches. 

You move down to her opening, tongue jutting in, hungrily sucking up all her juices. Your nose prods her clit, ever so slightly, and you nuzzle against the stiff bud. Baran’s fingers tighten on your scalp, somehow pulling you deeper into her cunt. 

Baran’s hips tilt again, and you pull back from her. She’s met with your nose, mouth, and chin covered in her cum. You do your best to sound stern, and not lovesick. “Behave, Mommy.” She lets out a small whimpering ‘okay’ as she caresses your face. 

You continue your earlier moves, quickly bringing her to the edge. You feel her starting to tense, so you move your lips to her inner thigh. She lets out a frustrated sigh— until you softly blow on her sensitive clit. She moans throatily, and you softly snicker at her. 

You wait for her to come down slightly before your lips find her clit again. You babble inaudible sweet nothings against her pussy, the inconsistent vibrations driving the older woman insane. Baran’s hand in your hair moves your head around, practically covering your entire face in her. “Freaky Girl.” You laugh out loud as you go back to suckling her clit. 

You enjoy yourself as a woman starved— and well it had been two days. You were starving for her. You spend a while working her up and easing her down, until your love bubble is broken by Baran’s ’10 minutes to go’ alarm. Thank God for her OCD-perfectionist traits! 

“Fuck, Khoshgelam. I have to go, please make me cum.” She begs with a whine, her fingers sweetly carding through your hair. 

Your front teeth carefully graze her clit, the rougher stimulation on top of the edging sends her over the edge. Her thighs shake, making you tighten your grip on her. Waves of cyprine ooze out of her vagina. You work her down from her long-awaited orgasm, slurping up all you can. 

Overly sensitive, she starts to twitch, pushing you away from her core. You retract your fingers from her skin and rest on your elbows, just beaming up at the woman. “Come here.” She husks out, voice rough from the extensive edging in a short timeframe and the explosive orgasm. 

You press one last kiss to her clit, before crawling up her body, pressing short kisses against her stomach and breasts. Her cum drips off your chin, onto her. Your lips find hers, both moaning at the contact. 

She looks at you with hooded eyes, her mouth hanging open as she huffs out breaths of air. “Asheghetam, Eshgham.” She murmurs into your mouth, a little dazed. You don’t know what the first word means exactly, but you have an inkling. You repeat the word a few times in your head, making sure you won’t forget it. You kiss her tenderly. “You gotta go, Pretty.” You pull away from her, pulling her up as you go. 

———

Just on time, Baran walks into the PTMC emergency department. She’s immediately hit by the blasting AC. She looks in her bag for her Lululemon jacket, only to find it missing. I must have forgotten to grab it while rushing out of your place. 

She shoves her bag into her locker. Well, too bad. I’ll manage. No point in having you come down to bring it. She thinks as she heads to the break room to make tea— something she didn’t have time to do at your place earlier. 

She reaches up to grab the tea she stashed in the cupboard. Her scrub top rides up, showing a sliver of her back. Dark and bright red marks contrasting her olive skin. 

Doctor Mohan comes walking in, their eyes automatically catching the scratches on their boss’s lumbar region. “Damn, Doctor Al, do I have to be worried or jealous?” Samira asks, an audible hint of worry in their voice. 

Baran finds her tea, turning to face Samira. “Huh? What, Doctor Mohan?” She asks, a little confused at the sudden remark. Samira motions to Baran’s back. 

“Your back— at least what I saw— is covered in fresh and old blood, scabs, and finger-sized bruises.” Samira explains, grabbing a drink from the fridge. 

Baran’s eyes widen, a blush growing on her cheeks. “By your reaction to my observations, I'll conclude the most positive differential diagnosis. Good for you, Baran.” The Tamil smiles at the Persian.  

“Eh, yes. I've been— I am dating someone. But I'd like for this information to stay between us, okay?” Baran admits, her tone professional yet a little insecure. 

“All good Al. Your secret is safe with me.” Samira zips their lip, timed perfectly with Princess walking in. Princess raises a conniving brow at the words. The Filipina masks her expression, having heard Baran's bit of the conversation. 

——

Baran is working in Trauma 1 on a vehicular crash patient, with Dr. Santos, Dr. Garcia, and Dr. Whitaker. With the most severe injuries treated, Baran reaches up to redirect the overhead light for better visibility. 

In doing so, the bottom strip of her abdomen is bared to Yolanda and Trinity. Your freshly made love bites are hard to miss, varying from red to purple. 

“Damn, Girl. Who do I have to call to get a similar treatment?” Yolanda teases, with a hint of jealousy. Trinity glares at the surgeon, rolling her eyes when Yolanda quirks a lip. 

This time, Baran knows what’s being pointed out. She immediately steps back and tucks her scrub top into her bottoms. She ignores Dr. Garcia and sends Dr. Santos a pointed look, begging for silence. 

“What did I miss?” Dennis asks as he lets go of the IV drip he was working on. “Nothing!” Al-Hashimi and Santos respond way too quickly. 

Dennis lets out an understanding “Oh.” Yolanda eyes the two women suspiciously, grumbling lowly to herself. “Unexpected.” She walks out of Trauma 1. “Later Losers, call me if something fun comes in!” 

Whitaker looks at his two coworkers. “I don’t know what just happened, but based on that look you gave each other and the simultaneous dismissive answer. I’m gonna say Garcia thinks you’re seeing each other. And if it weren’t for me catching you with McSister, this would have made me suspicious too.” Dennis points out Yolanda’s likely assumption. 

——

An hour later, Baran can't escape her colleagues' prodding questions and curious looks. It's clear to her that the marks on her skin have been running the rumor mill. 

It's only 10 AM and I'm already over the looks. She pulls out her phone and texts you. 

Eshgham, could you bring me my Lululemon jacket? I must have forgotten it in my hurry this morning… 😳 What jacket? Not this one right?🫣 *picture of you in her jacket, partly unzipped, showing you're not wearing anything else.* Yes…😗😩 What's your favorite deli/store bakery cookie?😒 Cinnamon raisin! Why? I knew you were older, just wasn't expecting geriatric 💔💔 Give me half an hour :)

——

You stroll into chairs, walking to the front of the line, skipping past patients in line. You wait patiently at the front for Lupe to focus on you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Lupe asks, happy for the excuse to change pace. 

You hold up a shopping bag. “I thought I'd bring cookies, for the team. Oatmeal Raisin.” You tell the receptionist. “Ahh yum. Want me to page your sister? The door’s open for you, Cariño.” Lupe says, signalling for you to walk around and give her a cookie. 

“No, it's okay Lupe, don't want to pull her from a patient She'll find me. And it gives me an excuse to annoy Dana just that much longer!” You grin as you open a tray for her to grab a cookie. 

—

“McJunior! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dana calls as you walk in. “Heyyyy, Evans.” You drag out, as she wraps her arms around you. 

“I thought I'd bring you guys your weekly snack. Sorry to say, it's oatmeal raisin.” You tell the nurse. She groans out. You apologize, knowing it's her least favorite. 

“So you come into my ED and bring me garbage cookies? What is this, Kid?” She lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Sorry Dana, I was told they're someone's favorite.” You say, catching Baran's eyes. 

“Oh, Baran, this is McKay’s little sister. She visits when she’s bored.” Dana calls Baran over, putting you on blast. Baran casually walks over to you, she holds out her hand for you to shake. “Lovely to meet you, Baran Al-Hashimi, the temporary Chief Attending.” 

You squeeze her hand as you shake, grinning at her. “Speak of the devil. I got your favorite cookies for the Pittcrew. Walk me to the break room?” You suggest. Baran nods curtly. Dana is confused by the ease between you and Baran, squinting at you both as you walk away. 

Walking into the break room, Baran closes the door behind you. You take the two boxes of cookies out of the bag and set them on the table. Baran waves you over to the most obscured corner. You step into her, your body leaning against hers, against the kitchen counter. 

You press a short, sweet kiss to her lips. “Hi, Darling.” You whisper before pecking her lips again. “Salam, Love.” She says, her hands finding themselves on your ass. The fluorescent lights are buzzing softly overhead, contrasting with your girlfriend’s warm eyes on you. 

There’s a quick knock on the door, and Trinity’s head pops in before she steps in, closing the door again. “Hey, Girlies— Dana sent me in here ‘cause she was afraid you’d chew Girl Scout out for showing up. Or she’s on to you, and that was her unsubtle way of asking me to check it out.” Trinity rocks on the balls of her feet. 

“I brought cookies. They’re B’s fave so mind your words, Trin.” You say as you pull back from Baran and take the lilac jacket out of your bag. “Thanks for the warning, Bro.” Trinity winks at you and Baran, as Baran pulls on her jacket. 

“Yeah Babe, your choice won’t be a hit. Pretty sure only a few like these: Perlah, Mel, Cass, Abbot, and maybe Vic.” You fake chastise your girlfriend, giving her a quick kiss. Trinity fake gags across the room; you flip her off. “Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous that your new boss snatched me up before you got the confidence to ask me out.” You give Baran another short kiss before instinctively distancing from her. 

Baran’s hand reaches out for you, then drops as Cassie comes walking in. Cassie looks at the three of you, suspiciously evenly separated and frozen. “Hey, Kid. D told me you brought my favorite cookies.” Cassie rubs her hands before giving you a quick hug. “So what’s going on here? I feel like I interrupted an interrogation.” Cassie says looking between the three of you. 

“I was just getting to know Doctor Al-Hashimi—” “Baran” “Baran, and Trinny got jealous and needed to join in.” You excuse yourself as you step over to Trinity and pull her in an extra-tight hug. “And that's my cue to leave. Love ya, Kid.” Cassie says, pocketing a cookie and going back to work, as she looks suspiciously at Baran and Trinity.

“Goddamn, that was uncomfortable. You guys were practically dry-humping a second before she came in.” Trinity laughs, making you laugh— until her eyes catch her boss’s unenthused brown orbs. The green-eyed one quiets at the look. You give Baran a soft shove. “Be nice. She’s joking as your girlfriend’s best friend, not as your employee.” She relents with a reluctant sigh. You give her a short but deep kiss. 

“Okay, doctors, you’ve got lives to save. And I have a special treat for a charge nurse.” You order as you walk out of the room. Trinity lets out an indignant ‘hey’ as you mention a special treat for Dana. 

Walking over to Dana, you hand her a brown paper bag with a brownie. “You shouldn’t have, Hon.” She says, her eyes trailing Baran— Now surprisingly in the jacket that she lacked all morning— walk out of the break room. Dana glances at your bag, suddenly looking a lot less overfilled than five minutes ago. 

“So, Kid, I know that you happen to be qualified for kinship adoption. Our little Baby Jane Doe needs a place, only for a little while. Harrison would like a cousin!” Dana bats her eyes at you, really wanting to find a place for the infant. 

“Ah, the Fourth of July drop off baby? I’ve heard so much about her. But I can’t D. I’ve got Sonny every few days, work, Mop, and I’m seeing someone, who also has a kid to juggle. I can’t do three and a half kids, a new girlfriend, and my sister.” You share, not naming names but knowing Dana likely already did the math. 

“I’ll give you that, McJunior. But if you want to keep things on the down-low, maybe clean your nails next time.” Dana hands you a pump of Purell to clear the dried blood from under the rims. The smell of disinfectant burns your nose. 

“Both seeing someone, as of this week or so. Rumor of her back being covered in nail-like abrasions. You obviously brought her jacket and that fuckin’ tension when you introduced yourselves. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’d have to be stupid to miss that.” Dana concludes in a low voice as you clean your nails, your face heating up the more her list goes on. 

“Fuck, are we that obvious, D? Cass can’t know, at least not for a while She’ll crash out.” You whisper back at her, looking over your shoulder if anyone is listening along. 

“Your secret is safe with me, Kid. Just don’t do anything stupid. Actively hiding from your sister will make things worse.” The Yinzer tells you solemnly, giving you a supportive pat on the shoulder. 

“You look good together, though. I’m proud of you for going after what you want, despite your sister. And-eh maybe trim those nails, Hon.” Dana digs at you as you call out a goodbye to the entire Pittcrew. Baran’s head pops out from behind a curtain to catch your eye and blow you a kiss. 

—

Walking through triage, Perlah and Princess corner you. “As Santos’ best friend, can you confirm the allegation that she’s dating Al-Hashimi?” Perlah prompts, wrapping an arm around you. You chuckle, “I can and definitely will deny.” Princess grimaces at you, “But Ahmad is putting up a new bet on who her mystery woman is. All we know is she’s roughly 30, and we know her.” 

“It can’t be a nurse. Hashimi wouldn’t do that power imbalance without HR in the loop. So of all the residents, Trinity is the only one that makes sense.” Perlah explains as you pull a pen out of her scrub pocket. “Can I get a piece of paper? I’m putting in my ten cents— or well, $50 rather.” 

You write down your name on the scrap Princess handed you. You fold the paper twice, to fully obscure your name. “Give this to Ahmad. Tell him to send me a Venmo request or something. However, no one can look at the name till the bet is over and we know who she’s dating.” You state, leaving no space for arguments, yet smiling politely. 

“And if anyone does look at the name, I know. It’s so funny how half the doctors here think being friends with a psychologist means they don’t have to see one.” You laugh as you say your goodbyes to the women, who can’t help but laugh along. 

——

You and Baran are in your apartment, picking up her overnight bag and making one for you. You hold out a top, a navy halter with a modest neckline. “Thoughts on me wearing this out with the girls tonight?” You ask, holding it in front of you to show. Baran eyes the top for a moment, tracing the outlines of the fabric. 

“I don’t know, Darling. I think you’re going to have to model it for me.” She prompts with a smug smile. You roll your eyes in fake annoyance, huffing as you toss the top onto the foot of your bed. You take your shirt off, leaving you in a simple black bra. Baran’s eyes sparkle as she sees all the newer and fading marks she’s left on your upper body. 

“I think I like this the most.” She says preemptively, before you’ve even grabbed the top in question. You snort, “Of course you do, but I don’t think you want me going out to a straight bar like that.” You point out as you slip the top over your head. She sends you a questioning look as she steps closer. “Straight bar?” 

Her hands grip your waist, straightening the top. She halts her movements, admiring the way the top clings to your skin. “Yeah, it’s a regular bar, so there are many guys around. But we make it gay: five ambiguously queer people, and an occasional twink.” You point out, her eyes jumping between the few hickeys that are visible in this top. 

Baran laughs, her face stilling as your words settle. “Wait, people? But at work they all go by— Fuck, Eshgham, have I been misgendering anyone?” She asks in worry. You unclasp your bra and look at yourself in the mirror. “With or without bra, Aziz? And I doubt it. They all accept she/her, especially at work. Mira prefers they/them in their free time. Trin’s cool with they/them, if it’s to normalise usage, cover for someone who can’t come out, or on days when it just feels right.” Baran hums in understanding, moving to stand behind you. 

She peers at the mirror over your shoulder, hands gripping your hips. “I prefer without.” She kisses your shoulder. “Do you think they’d like me to call them that?” She ponders out loud. You nod your head, your hands settling on hers. “Mira will love it. I know they struggle with it, having quite feminine features. But they’re just such a pretty thing.” Baran nods at your words, almost slipping in her professional posture. “Good to know. And you look marvellous, My Love.” She kisses your cheek as her hands slide up to cup your breasts. 

—

You’re in the car to Baran’s house, her right hand on your thigh. “So, Golam, I just want to tell you this so you know. And not so one of the girls jokes about it and you feel like I was purposely hiding it from you.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers, and her right hand takes your hands to stop the movement. 

“What is it, Eshgham?” She asks, unfazed, only glancing at you shortly before her eyes go back to the road. “I— I slept with Trinity a few months ago…” You start apprehensively, staring at the dashboard. Baran squeezes your hand for you to go on. “It was a drunken thing, I wouldn’t call it a mistake. She’d fought with Garcia. And I had had the worst week of my career; multiple of my patients relapsed, out of the blue. So we met up, drank way too much, and woke up at her place.” You glance over at the woman, still quietly driving. 

“We laughed it out. We both knew there was nothing more than platonic feelings between us. Despite the sex being good— she’s got nothing on you though, Shirinam.” You get the weight off your chest, knowing to end with a compliment to your girlfriend. “Thank you for telling me, Khoshgelam. But I don’t think I have anything to worry about. I trust you and your judgment. And I’m pretty sure that I’ve been the one to wake up beside you every day for the past few days.” The corner of her mouth upturns. 

She brings your hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Also I’m pretty sure she’s scared of you, in like a professional capacity.” You add with a grin. 

“So what time are you meeting up? What time do you want me to drop you off and pick you up?” She changes the subject, her hand going back to your thigh. “Babe, no. It’s your night off. Please do some self-care, read, whatever. I can order a Lyft.” You counter, not wanting her to be your personal chauffeur. 

“How about I order you a Lyft going there and pick you up after. I don’t like the idea of you taking a 30-minute cab alone at night after you’ve been drinking.” She decides, rather than offers. You roll your eyes affectionately at her efforts and care. 

“Fineeeeeee—” You draw out. “but only if you introduce yourself to my friends as my girlfriend. As a whole separate person from their attending. Aaaand you kiss me.” You say lightheartedly, giddy at the thought of PDA with your girlfriend in front of her subordinates and your friends. 

“Of course, Aziz.” Her hand rubs your thigh as she leans in over the console to give you a quick kiss at a red stoplight. 

———

“Hi Darliiiiings. Ready to get swaysted?” You call out, walking up to the booth they’re in. “With you always, McLittle.” Victoria cheers back. You go around the group, giving them all hugs. 

“Sooo fun news. My girlfriend wants to cover our first round.” You pull Baran’s Platinum American Express card out of your pocket. You wave the card in the air, their mouths hanging open. “Oooh, Sugar Mommy!!!!” Samira teases. 

“No, in all seriousness, she wanted to drive me here. I told her to have a cosy night in. So then she offered to buy our first round.” You confess, taking a seat next to Samira. 

“She's trying to butter them up already? They don't even know who she is.” Trinity pipes up, smirking at you from across the table. “Hush, Girl. I'll tell them who she is after our first drink.” You fire back, flipping the Filipina off. 

“So what are we doing tonight, Guys?” Mel asks, straightening her glasses. Trinity turns to Mel and pulls her hair tie out. “Let your hair down, Baby.” Victoria and Samira look at them in question. 

“You should have been there Fourth of July.” Mel comments offhandedly, and you and Trinity agree with her. “Suuuure.” Victoria chimes back. “No, for real, Tori; Trin, and Mel were mouth fuckin’ at the karaoke bar.” You laugh, exposing the women. Samira and Victoria look at you and then the pair, in shock. 

“But I was thinking margaritas. So we can stay fresh but regret our choices no matter how hard we drink.” You answer diplomatically, changing the subject. Half cut off by Samira cheering. “And then we can do tequila shoooooots!” 

— 

You have a total of five rounds of drinks, and one round of bar bites. Everyone pays for a round, so everyone is virtually equal in expenses at the end of the night. 

After the first Margherita and a shot, you all head to the pool table. Jokingly playing around with the cues, missing half the shorts cause you're all dying with laughter. 

You suddenly sober slightly and admit to the women you're seeing their attending. “Robby?” “Abbot?” “Shen?” They talk over each other. 

“Guys, come on, it's Al-Hashimi.” Trinity tells them, rolling her eyes at the stupidity of assuming you'd go for the old men or Shen. “That. And Shen is a homosexual man, if I've ever met one.” you retort, pointing at Trinity.  

“Whohooo, Cassie won't like that.” Javadi laughs out, already on the brighter end of tipsy. “And what would  you know about that Javadi? Where were you on July fourth, after work, hmmm?” Trinity challenges, tilting her head connivingly. 

Victoria blushes and stammers. “I-uhh I...” she trails off. “Exactly, you don't hear McJunior complaining about whatever you and McKay are, do you?” Samira joins in, sending you a sideways smile. 

“I don't care Tori. You can date my sister, fuck my sister, whatever you both want to do. But neither of you can be hypocritical about me dating a senior doctor, whom I don't even work with. And I met her at a restaurant, while being stood up. Like, I deserve something good. And Baran happens to be that and then some.” You relativise as a waiter comes around. 

— 

You play stupid drinking card games while nursing margarita number two and another shot. Then Vic and Mel get hungry, so a plate of nachos, chicken wings, and onion rings are ordered to share. You idly chat about how their new residency year is going and what you're doing with your summer time off. 

At some point, you make them swear, but mainly the youngest, to secrecy. Cassie cannot find out through them, because then hell will freeze over. They understand and agree. 

As it nears 12 AM, you decide to do one last round of margaritas and head to the dance floor. Just having fun, laughing, and drunkenly goofing around with your friends. 

Around 1 AM, the fun wears off. All you feel are eyes on your group. The party is over. The joy of dancing is taken over by men on the prowl for someone to take home. So you and your friends decide to call it a night, placing your empty glasses on the bar and each paying out your part of the tab. While waiting, you text your sister to come pick up Victoria and quickly call Baran to head your way. 

—

Outside the bar, you're hit by the late-night chill. It works wonders in clearing some alcohol from your system. 

Cassie is quick to pull up; you recognize her car immediately. Notably, a dent in the side mirror, which you made, and you still don't know how it happened. Victoria hugs you all and gets in the car. You lean in the passenger window, talking to your sister. “Hi Pea, take good care of her, alright? B will be here in a bit for me, and they're going home together.” you explain, eyebrow raising suggestively when you ask her to take care of Victoria. 

“Sure thing, Sis. Love you, goodnight.” Cassie speaks, voice a little groggy. Her eyes widen momentarily as you make the suggestive remark, before finding her cool again. Her pajamas tell you that she was likely already asleep before you texted her. 

No less than a few minutes later, Baran’s silver Volvo drives up. Putting on her emergency lights as she double-parks the car along the sidewalk. She steps out, in loose dark linen pants and a white button-up. 

“Hi, Azizam. Have fun?” She asks, steadying you with her arms on your biceps. She looks between you and the other three. 

“Cassandra picked up Vic a few minutes ago. She's way too drunk to comfortably go to her parents. So she often crashes at Cass’. And Sam, Mel, and Trin are probably going to end up scissoring at one of their places.” You overexplain enthusiastically as Baran questions the absence of the youngest. “Hey, fuck you, you’d be lucky to join in.” Samira grumbles drunkenly, shielding Trinity and Mel from you. “Yeah,” Trinity chimes in. Mel sticks a frowny tongue at you. 

“Nuh-uhhhhh. I have a hot, hot Mommy. Who’s way too good for me.” You fire back, leaning in to Baran. ”Sure yo do, Drunky. Let’s get you home and showered, Golam.” Baran agrees, coaxing you into the passenger seat. “Wait kiss!” You shout, despite all four being less than a few feet away. 

Baran whispers a soft agreement before your lips find hers hungrily. Your three friends cheer, as onlookers join them. Your hands are on her tight ass, her hands are on the car and the back of your neck, for stability. She pulls back for air, “Citrusy? Margaritas?” She questions and Mel cheers an excited yes.

“So pretty and mine.” You mumble happily, smiling dopily at her, completely in your own world. You get in the passenger seat, and Baran just nods encouragingly at you. 

“Goodnight ladies. I trust you all to get each other home safe?” Baran tells the three after closing your door. The group straightens, nodding at their boss. “Lyft will be here in a few.” Samira says, holding up their phone as proof. “Good. See you Monday.” Baran responds with a curt nod, walking around to the driver's side. 

——————

Author’s note

I have a whole list of things I want to write for this fic, but while writing I just keep adding new bits 🫣 

I’ll be on a trip, to Berlin till the next part goes up. But as of writing this and the next part I’d been distracting myself with spellcheck/Tumblr formatting, instead of packing 🤠

So if you have any sights or places to recommend pls let me know!!🥰

Like, reblog, comment, interact all of it 💕 

xx Liz