#it fell out of my bag and rolled around my car floor unopened

[spilledbeans116]

I got Vegeta soda !! Will update on how he tastes later 😩

[finchesslingshott]

You should know I’ll be there for you — a Modern!Newsies HS Oneshot (Race and Finch comfort) (cowritten by @coffeeistired)

!! TW: mention of eating disorder !!

Summary: Finch and Race have a sleepover the night before their opening show of Seussical. When he gets home first, Race goes snooping around Finch’s kitchen and finds it startlingly empty, confirming his suspicions. (They are THE best friends ever) Title from If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin.

WC: 1950 words

“I can’t even believe opening night’s tomorrow,” Finch said tiredly, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the floor in front of Race, struggling to tie his shoes.

“Me neither,” Race replied leaning back on his palm, taking the toothpick he held in his mouth out, leaning over to help Finch with his shoes — though Race was almost doing a worse job then the other had been.

“You still down to spend the night at my place tonight?” Finch said, smirking at his best friend. “If you’d rather flirt with Conlon over Discord all night again, then by all means, be my guest.”

Race’s face lit up instantly, he took Finch’s shoe off, throwing it at him. “Shut it! We aren’t— it’s not like that, and you know it.” Race huffed, putting the toothpick back in his mouth, chewing on it. “I guesss I'll still come over.” He added on dramatically.

Finch giggled a little, taking his shoe back and straightening up. “Cool. Well, since we both drove separately, and I don’t trust my car in the school parking lot, I guess I’ll just see you at my place? You have my address.” “Well, I hope I do.” Race said, feeling his pockets- keys, phone- okay. Good. “Bet ya 5 bucks I get there first.” He joked, standing up.

Finch smirked, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, Higgins. See you in a few.”

Race snickered. “See ya in a few.” He replied before instantly booking it to his car, pushing past Finch. He wasted no time in taking off, definitely breaking some traffic laws. He got to Finch’s apartment first, finding the spare key hidden under the doormat and letting himself in. Race looked around the familiar place, a grin on his face, satisfied that he did in fact get there first — he got lost all too easily, and had a hard time paying attention to where he was going, getting distracted by the scenery or the other cars around him most of the time. He closed the door (not locking it) behind him just as his stomach growled. Suddenly he realized he’d forgotten to eat that day. Again. Damn it.

Finch wouldn’t mind if he stole some cookies or something surely — he did it almost constantly. He waltzed right into the other’s kitchen, going for the fridge.

Huh.

Race was no nutritionist but he didn’t think energy drinks were exactly the healthiest to have, and it didn’t seem like Finch had anything else. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, going to the cabinet and finding nothing but a couple measly bags of coffee. Pure black coffee grounds. 

His face slowly fell. Did Finch not have food?

Could he not afford it? Race got being poor — he was way less better off before Medda adopted him — but surely Finch knows he can ask for money if he needs it, right? Race felt a small shudder shoot down his spine, he shut the cabinet door, waking off to Finch’s room.

He needed answers. He felt a little sick to his stomach with something didn’t usually recognise. 

Worry. That’s not something he did a lot of. He didn’t like it. 

He usually would respect the other’s privacy but…the lingering fear in the back of his mind wouldn’t let him, so with reckless abandon, he went through Finch’s stuff.

He found his bedroom, and opening the door, found a relatively clean room — Finch hated messy situations, they stressed him out. On the top of his dresser, Race found a bunch of unopened things — bags of chips, candies, multiple chocolate bars — all clearly from Christmas, work, or some cast party or other events. They all looked like they hadn’t been touched in days, weeks, maybe even months.

Race’s brow furrowed. Why would he have all of this? He was chewing so hard on his toothpick at this point that it snapped. He quickly shoved the broken thing into his pocket- if this got any worse he’d probably need a cigar- the thing the toothpicks were meant to replace.

He couldn’t bring himself to investigate further, he just sorta stared awhile— unsure of what to make of it all.

He remembered a conversation he’d had with Buttons and Davey a while back, and Davey talking about his suspicion that Finch might have developed something called anorexia.

“It’s a type of eating disorder,” Davey had explained, noticing the confused frowns on Buttons’ and Race’s faces. “Mainly characterized by avoiding food altogether. Haven’t you noticed he barely eats in front of other people anymore? And that he’s been ‘forgetting his lunch’ more than usual recently?”

“Fuck.” Race said under his breath, his mind drifting back to the present, hand clinging to the leg of his pants. His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him — he wasn’t fit to handle this — he was stupid, he’d just make it worse — but he can’t just pretend not to know, that’s wrong. This is all wrong.

He sighed shakily, eyes darting to the door. Finch should be here soon. What was he going to say? Hey, bro, have you been eating lately? Do you have that thing Davey was talking about with a name I can’t pronounce?

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why didn’t he tell him? Had Race done something wrong?? Did Finch just not trust him anymore? Was he gonna die or leave or whatever happens to people when this happens? 

Race felt the tears already force their way into his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, shaking his head. This wasn’t about him; it was about Finch. 

He had to make sure he was okay. Just…somehow.

“Race! You already here?” Finch’s voice called from the living room, and Race heard the thump of Finch letting his bag fall to the floor. Speak of the devil.

Race sighed again, taking out the container of toothpicks he’d been forced to carry by Spot, putting one in his mouth as he left the other’s room, just kinda…standing in the hall, trying to control his breathing. 

“Hey…Finch?” He called. “Got anything ya might wanna say?”

Finch frowned slightly, examining Race’s face. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

“You tell me. Is something wrong?” Race asked back, crossing his arms, he was going to snap yet another toothpick if this kept up.

Finch’s eyes darted away, then returned to Race’s face. “Apart from my Algebra 2 grade, not really. What are you talking about, Race?”

“Oh- your Algebra 2 grade is fine.” He replied in expersation, walking further down the hall. “Do I gotta spell everythin’ out for ya?” 

He was doing this wrong. He probably sounded mad — he needed to shut up really badly, but he was never good at shutting up. He leaned against the wall, eyes glued to the floor despite the way he spoke, he was nervous. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in shakily. 

“Your….room,” he mumbled, trying to not have to do the one to bring it up.

“What about it?” Finch said, his frown deepening. “Race, you’re acting weird. Is everything alright?”

“Are you a hoarder or something?” He blurted out- No- Damn it Race- He mentally cursed himself. “I uh…have you been starving yourself?” 

Wow. Way to sugarcoat it, Race.

Finch froze, staring at Race. He felt his chest tense up, his heart beating faster. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I— No, Race what’re you— Why would you—”

“Don’t….Don't lie to me,” he mumbled, looking up. “C’mon, Adi, you can talk to me. What is it? If ya need money or something you can ask fer it, y’know?” Race forced himself to stop rambling, taking a few steps closer, coming to a stop. 

“Finch, I can’t lose you too,” he said suddenly, looking back to the ground, hands clenched into fists.

Finch let out a quiet, shaky breath, not looking up as tears welled up in his eyes. “How… How’d you know?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“Uh, Dave, really. Y’know, the guy can’t keep his mouth shut. He mentioned somethin’ a couple months ago, ‘round the time the Seussical cast list came out — somethin’ with a big fancy name I can’t pronounce.” Race gulped slightly. “And— your collection of old food in your room, th-that was— was a pretty big giveaway.” Race’s voice had dwindled away, almost a whisper now. “Just…tell me what’s wrong, Adi, please. I’m beggin’ over here.”

Finch didn’t look up — he couldn’t, more like — and just stood there, his breathy shaking as he tried to force himself not to cry. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“Ya can’t…what?” Race prompted, looking up, gesturing for Finch to go on.

Finch shook his head, starting to attempt to speak before crumpling, starting to sob quietly.

Race flinched, quickly walking over to Finch, sliding to his knees, wrapping his arms around the other, chin rested atop his head as he sighed. “Hey, look, ‘m sorry, Adi, I’m just— confused?” He tried before shutting up.

Race started to exaggerate his breathing, hoping Finch would take the hint and match it.

He didn’t seem to grasp it yet, just crying into Race’s shoulder. This was the hardest he’d ever seen Finch cry, and it was startling.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he choked, his voice shaky. “I-I just thought— thought you’d get mad if you found out. I— I didn’t want you to make me stop.”

Race rubbed circles into the other’s back. Maybe he was taking deep breaths for himself rather than Finch at this point, because what was he meant to do? What was he supposed to say? Should he say anything?

“Yeah, well… ya thought wrong, loser. I’m the furthest thing from mad,” Race retorted, trying to lighten the mood. Stop what? Stop not eating? Well, duh, Finch needed to eat something. Race knew he probably would figure out a way around it if he tried to make the other eat. That’s okay. He’ll think of something, as long as Finch was okay in the end.

“Are you gonna tell Benji?” Finch said, his voice almost a scared little whimper.

“Nah…Who said I even talk to him at all?” Race tried to joke — shit, that was a bad joke. A horrible joke even. “I…no, I ain’t tellin anyone.”

Finch snuffled, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks. I don’t… I don’t wanna stress him out. Especially with finals coming up.”

“Yeah…don’t mention it.” Race said, just holding the other tightly for a while, trying to think. “…wanna talk about it?” 

Racetrack was not someone to just…comfort someone, he was horrible at it, a 10 year old would be a better comfort then Race in all honesty, but he wanted to help, he really did.

Finch didn’t answer for a second, thinking. “Not… Not right now,” he finally said, his voice still shaky. “Let’s… Let’s talk Monday. I don’t want both of us to be stressed out during shows and stuff.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I kept trying to find a time to tell you, but… Never felt like the right moment, y’know?”

“Well, for your information. I gotta be a furry, I’m already stressed out,” Race shot back playfully, tracing random shapes into the other’s back— a star, then a square, then a circle, then random lines. 

“I’ll hold ya to that then,” Race said, his eyes squeezing shut as he hugged his best friend. “You can tell me anythin’ y’know? I’ll never get mad, scouts honor.”

“Race, we dropped out of Boy Scouts in seventh grade.” “You know what I mean!” Finch laughed a little bit, snuffling quietly and hugging his best friend. “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

[anythingandeverything1d]

Ask Him

“I hate all boys. They all suck.” You let out an exasperated sigh and fell to your best friends bed. She smiled shaking her head and you and laughing softly. “I’m serious. I’m over trying to find a husband, boys are stupid.” You crossed your arms and stared at her, your lip between your teeth. 

“It’s nice to see you too, yeah my classes have been great, thanks for asking.” 

You sighed and sat up. “I’m sorry. How was your first day back?” You watched as she shrugged, dropping her bag to the floor and turning to face you again. 

“Same as always. Syllabus week is a drag but my professors don’t seem too bad.” She took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed and grinned. “So, what’s got you all up in your feelings today?”

“Harry. He’s all over the place with his feelings, well I don’t even know what they are. One minute he's like ‘hey beautiful’ and the next he's not even answering my texts. Like what kind of game is that?”

“Well have you asked him what he's feeling or what you guys are?”

“I mean kind of...”

“And?”

“And....welll...he said that he likes where things are at. He doesn’t really know where things will go but that he's content.”

“Content?”

"Yes. Content.” You groaned. “This is what gets me though. We’ve been talking for like 3 weeks....3 WHOLE ASS WEEKS. Then today all of a sudden, he just stops opening my snapchats. He didn’t unfriend or block me. He just doesn't open mine or talk to me. BUT. HE. VIEWS. MY. STORY.” you let out a small shriek. “His snap score also continues to go up. So he clearly doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well did you ask him?” 

“Well no but-”

“(y/n). You have to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes... try asking him what’s up.”

“Ughhh.....”

“I mean you could just forget him and move on...”

“But....but I actually like this oneee.”

“THEN ASK HIM.” You raised an eyebrow and your friend smiled. “Figure out what’s going on if you’re really that bothered by it..”

“I don’t even know why I’m asking you, I mean you've had the perfect relationship for years. You don’t even know the struggles.”

“That’s not true. Sometimes Max doesn't text me when he’s out with the guys.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “See. That’s the problem.”

“Just ask him (y/n).” She looked at you with a frown and stood up. “Or let him go. I’m sure you will live either way.”

You fell back onto the bed and looked at your phone. “Fine.” You clicked Harry’s name and typed the first rational thing that came to your head. *Hey* “There I did it.”

“What’d you ask him?” Your friend reached over, pulling the phone from your hand and laughed. “Hey?” She looked over at you with a frown. “Really?”

“Stop. Okay. It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is..” 

You grabbed the phone back and walked to the door. “I’m leaving now.”

“Let me know what he says.”

“If he answers.”

“Give him a chance.”

“I am. This is more of a chance than I’ve given anyone else.”

“Oh lord.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You closed the door behind you and wandered to your car. Harry hadn’t answered and your heart was beating at an unnatural rhythm due to the nerves. You clicked on snapchat and frowned at the unopened snap sent to him before letting out a sigh and driving home. After 20 minutes in the car without a response you boldly typed another message. *We need to talk* You dropped the phone to the seat as the light in front of you turned green and waited for the buzz of his response. To your dismay, nothing happened the entire hour drive home. You sat in the car, debating what to do and ignoring your friends texts. You didn't want to tell her your heart was falling into your stomach because some stupid boy wouldn’t answer. After another minute of checking snapchat, you pulled the keys and headed for the door.

“(y/n)...” 

The deep voice behind you startled you, and you spun around to find two anxious green eyes staring into yours.

“Harry.”

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No..it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting you.” You bit your lip and looked at him. His hair pushed to the side, waves falling down across his face.

“I got your messages and figured it would be better to talk in person...”

“Oh...” 

“Is that okay?”

You hadn’t really been planning on talking to him about these things face to face, but you nodded and walked to the door. “Of course, come on in.”

Harry followed closely behind, his scent engulfing you, sending shivers down your spine. “You look beautiful today...” You felt the pink pull to your cheeks as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

“Thanks...” You sat on the couch and he followed, his legs bumping yours as he settled next to you. Harry was watching you with a smile, his eyes tearing from one inch of your body to the next. 

“You-”

“I wanted to talk about us.” you cut him off, looking to the ground and biting your lip, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

Harry nodded, “I kind of figured.”

“I can’t do whatever this is Harry.” You felt the tears threaten their way but blinked them back. “I don’t get it. One minute you’re all over me and the next you’re ignoring me. I can’t figure out if you like me, if we are dating, if we are friends with benefits or if I’m just a side chick you have sex with every now and then.”

“(y/n)...” Harry tried interrupting but you held strong and continued on.

“We have these deep conversations about life and then you ghost me for two days. I get it. okay. You’re busy writing. You’re busy being the superstar you are, but I can’t keep just being shoved to the side. I mean do you even like me? Is this some game? It’s been weeks and all I can think about is what you’re doing, who you’re talking too, and what your favorite color is. I want to get to know you. I want....I want to be with you...I don’t want to feel like this. To feel like I’m just an extra person you can talk to when you need to.”

“(y/n)” Harry had scooted even closer and you hadn’t even noticed.

“I deleted the stupid dating apps for you. I-I  thought our dates had gone well, I thought there was a connection. I mean am I that wrong? Am I not good enough or-”

Harry’s lips pressed to yours, stopping your words and jumbling your thoughts. His hands cupped your cheeks, his lips slowly maneuvering around yours. He pulled away and sighed, his forehead resting on yours. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess....it’s hard because like....all the relationships I’ve had...they’ve like all been so much. I also just get into writing moods and kind of disappear. It’s not you at all.” He looked at you and smiled. “You make everything so clear. You make my day a little better when I’m around you. I don’t want to see other people and honestly the idea of you seeing other guys makes me feel a little sick....” You smiled and nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. “I want you. I know I need to be better, but I’m ready to move forward. I want you now and in every way possible.”

You bit your lip and grinned, butterflies flying around your stomach. “You do?”

Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to your nose. “I’m sorry I haven’t shown you that. I’ll get better, but please give me another shot. I won’t let it get away from me again.” You nodded and grinned, falling into his arms slightly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You nodded again and he laughed, kissing you softly. “I’m going to need actual words.” His lips tugged at the corner of your mouth. “(y/n)....be my girlfriend please...”

“Okay...” you squeaked, pressing your lips harder to his and falling into his lap. His hands moved to your waist and you kissed him like it was the first and last time. You were both breathing hard when you pulled away but you smiled. “Wow, I’m glad I asked...” you mumbled with a laugh.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” You kissed him once more and smiled. “Just happy that you’re here.”

----

okay here's a lotta fluff. Lol this has been in my drafts for AGES but I figured I would put it out there since I haven't had a lot of writing time. Hopefully that will change but for now it works! xoxo

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine: PRT FOUR

More nasty ass Erik !!!!!!!!!!! + adding two other requests for Erik giving reader anal and it’s painful/Reader choking Erik back for the first time and he moans.

I might as well make this a series because I’m in part four of this shit. Here is more of Erik freak ass and Y/N giving her pussy up. Multiple times.

part one  part two  part three  

Y/N and Erik took their fucking and sucking to her dorm room whenever Brandy was away with Erik’s friend. She complained to him about how small her bed was for them to fuck and sleep on but Erik didn’t care. They were both on their way back from grabbing a quick meal through a drive-thru. Still slurping up his lemonade, Erik stood behind Y/N with her book bag slung over his shoulder and his eyes staring at her ass. She had on these high waisted jeans with a butt rip under her right ass cheek. Those fucking jeans hugged so tight they looked painted on. Looking like a goddamn canvas.

“Lil mama, if you don’t open this fucking door up.” He could not look away from her ass. Then she had the nerve to wear one of those tiny ass shirts again. The front read Trap and Sex in hot pink lettering and the rest of the shirt was colored white.

“Daddy, my keys are twisted in my earphones,” she was struggling with the iPhone earphones tangled in the chains and key links of her unnecessarily heavy keys.

“You want me to get you some AirPods?”

Y/N beamed up at Erik with her pretty white smile, “You would actually do that for me?”

“Yes,” Erik grabs her keys, “Which one?”

“The silver one with the orange sticker on it,” she pointed at it with her long coffin-shaped gel acrylic nails painted this pretty salmon pink color. Each key for every dorm had a designated sticker. Her dorm complex all had orange stickers. While Erik fumbles with the door, Y/N takes his cup to drink the rest of his lemonade. She only got one suck in before it was all gone. Kissing her teeth, she pulled the top off and started eating his ice. Her glossy lips smacked and her teeth crunched as she chewed.

Erik held the door open for Lil Mama while she easily walked in from under his outstretched arm. She was 5’ 5 so it was a breeze. Her door clicked shut softly and now they were inside of her warm dorm room. Erik sat Y/N’s book bag down on the small black suede couch bed before kicking off his Nike VaporMax Plus with a black, white, and grey colorway. Y/N tried to clean up the living room a bit but Erik was already used to seeing Y/N and Brandy’s mess. Wigs with mannequin heads, Sephora make up bags, unopened packages, heels, textbooks, and an assortment of PS4 video games.

“Y’all some fucking slobs,” Erik unzipped his black Nike Therma training vest revealing a white Henley long sleeve top underneath that bunched around his biceps and pectorals.

“This space is so small our storage bins can’t hold everything, Erik,” Y/N grabbed the freshly washed wigs and mannequins to place in a corner behind a stack of storage bins to make space.

“All this time you’ve been staying here and you didn’t get a dresser?”

“I have one,” she said while smoothing down a pink wig in her hand, “it’s too damn full.”

“So, you basically brought your whole bedroom to campus?” He chuckles, “you’re silly, ma.”

“Leave me alone,” she pouted like a baby.

Erik mocked her pout making his eyes soft and blinking his long lashes. She giggled at him before turning around to put the wig away.

“Brandy not coming back tonight, right?” Erik pulls out a blunt that he had rolled nice and tight for tonight.

“Nah, she’s with your friend, remember?”

Erik puffed out smoke, “So that means I can be in that pussy all over this dorm room?”

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation. This was her Daddy. He could fuck her anywhere. If that nigga said to drop to your knees in public she would drop to her knees. If he told her to give that pussy up she would bend over in half for him and not think twice about the people around them. She’s been craving his big dick all day during classes. He had her so wet and sticky that she had to make a stop in the women’s bathroom during her free period to rub her clit into a squirting orgasm. She wished he could have seen the mess she made on that floor. Y/N always squirted when she had her clit rubbed or sucked on.

“Yes what, Lil Mama?”

“Yes, Big Daddy.” She spoke with the sweetest voice. It almost made Erik’s tooth hurt with how sweet and angelic she sounded.

“You’re such a good girl for me all the time. So submissive for Daddy, ain’t that right, Lil Mama?”

“Mhm, yes.” Y/N was obsessed with the dick and all of Erik honestly. He didn’t even have to fuck her to have her hooked. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if her Daddy left her.

“Girl,” He shook his head before resting it back against the couch, blowing his smoke into the air, “I’m about to punish that pussy...I’m dead fucking serious.”

Y/N closed her eyes in bliss while nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Keep biting on that lip ima bite it myself.” Oh, she needed a reminder. Erik already had her ass in the car.

Erik tongued Y/N’s mouth down in that drive-thru making the people behind them honk their horns and yell. He was practically sucking and fucking her face. She was squirming in that seat with her legs up and hands gripping the seat belt. His tongue was so damn good in her mouth. Her head fell lazily back and off to the side like she was fainting from the way he kissed her. Erik then grabbed her neck to hold her still before removing his tongue from her throat, a long trail of spit connecting with hers. She had to reward him with her hand in his sweats using her thumb to stroke the tip of his dick.

“Think I’m playing, Y/N, I will tear your little ass up in here.”

Y/N’s lip slowly released from between her teeth. It was swollen and blushed from how much she chewed on the pouty flesh. She rubbed her glossy lips together before giving Erik an innocent smile.

“I was just saying how much of a good girl you are but you must want daddy to punish you, huh?”

His head fell back against the couch again, Erik widening his legs to invite her over to him. He had those sexy deep brown eyes on her and his full bottom lip between his teeth.

“C’mere,” He said with a suppressed voice. Erik took both of his thumbs to pull back the waistband of his sweats and briefs. Erik’s groomed pubic hair was revealed to her lustful eyes and with one thrust of his hips, both pieces of fabric came down and rested under his muscular ass while his moisturized, lengthy, girthy, and magnificent black dick popped out and swung up and down like a pendulum. He jerked his hips and made his dick jump. Y/N loves it when he makes his dick jump. Lifting up the sleeves to his Henley, Erik takes his left hand to grab the base of his dick. She could hear the skin move up and down and she could see the veins of his shaft rolling each time his wrist covered with a Piaget watch twisted expertly to give himself the perfect stroke.

“C’mere.” He scrunched his face while biting the corner of his bottom lip, “you know what Daddy likes. Come suck me, Lil Mama.”

Y/N got down on her hands and knees and crawled to Erik. Once there, she squeezed herself between his legs and the coffee table in the dorm room. Now that she was on her knees between his legs, Y/N picked Erik’s dick up with her small hand, giving it a nice squeeze. Erik’s eyes rolled shut and his bottom lip poked out showing Y/N his gold canines. Using her slender pink tongue, Y/N licked from Erik’s delicious sack, the smooth base of his dick, up his length, and to that pre-cum oozing tip.

“Ooo,” she moaned before making a hissing sound with her teeth. She squeezed her Daddy’s big dick again and more of that syrupy goodness seeped out. That same pink tongue licked around the head of his thickness before her soft and unyielding lips cloaked him.

“Damn, Lil Mama. You can suck some dick, girl. Look at your little freaky ass. Suck this Daddy dick, cutie pie.”

Y/N inhaled Erik’s dick with no hands.

“Oh, shit,” Erik chuckles, “look at that pretty mouth on you.”

With her round eyes on him, Y/N made her jaws extra tight, breathing through her nose, and pulling all of him into her mouth. Erik’s hand came up to grab her puff, using the curly strands to pull her mouth off his dick. Erik stuck his tongue out at her, flicking it. Y/N leans forward, Erik’s hand around her neck, bringing her in to flick his tongue with hers. After a rather nasty tongue thrash that had Y/N’s lip dripping with Erik’s spit, he playfully slaps her face causing her to gasp.

“Throat deeper than a motherfucker,” He places two of his fingers into her mouth, “You can fit all of Daddy’s big dick in that nasty mouth.”

Y/N gags around Erik’s fingers. He takes them out slowly, rubbing it down the length of her tongue then over her bottom lip.

“Shit, look at what you got my dick doing.”

Each time his dick bobbled up and down his balls would jump. Still covered with spit and still just as rock hard as before. Erik and Y/N glanced at each other before turning their attention back to his beautiful cum stick. Reaching his left hand up, Erik takes his pointer finger to circle his slit mixing the pre-cum with Y/N’s saliva. He lifted that finger and she could see a slimy string of pre-cum. Her tongue rolled out of her mouth. She let it stick out as far as it could go. Erik made her suck on his finger then with a forceful hand he grabs the back of her neck bringing her lips to his dick again for her to suck.

“Yeah, Lil Freak,” Erik widened his legs more, “Make Daddy cum...shit...why you sucking me like that? LOOK AT ME...why are you sucking my dick like that?” He playfully slaps her again, “why?”

“Because I want Daddy to cum for me.”

“That’s right. Good girl. Make Daddy’s big dick cum. Show me you worked so hard for that shit.”

“Like this,” she slurped him up causing Erik’s lips to part and his hands coming up to cover his eyes.

“Just like that,” he lifts his shirt up so she could have a view of his defined body that he worked so hard to achieve, “girl, you got my nuts in your mouth. Daddy ain’t even have to ask you. That’s what I’m talking about.”

He never had to ask her to suck him off because she loved that shit. His dick was so damn good in her mouth. She was moaning around a mouth full of dick.

“Damn, I’m keeping you...best believe I’m keeping you, Lil Mama.”

Yes, Daddy-“ she sucked.

“Daddy turned you out?” He gave her a coy smirk.

“Uh-Huh, Daddy-“ she sucked.

“Hmph- oh my God, girl-Ah-sh-shittttttt,” she felt his thick cum hit the back of her throat, “shitttt...shitttttt,” she kept her lips sealed around his dick, still sucking just as hard. Y/N was cum hungry, “oh yeah? Oh yeah? Keep sucking my shit keep-fuckkkkkkk,” Erik has more for her. Y/N graciously took it and slurped it down with no problem, “FUCK YES.”

Finally finished drinking his cum, Y/N slowly pulled her lips off but not before French kissing his thick head. The leering expression on his face and the way he shook his head made Y/N want to suck his dick again just because of his reaction.”

“Turn around and bend over for Daddy to see.”

Y/N got up, bending over the coffee table to show how her tight jeans stretched out over her ass and that rip under her right ass cheek separating even more. She looked back at him with a pout of her lips and blinking patient eyes. She started rolling her hips for him in slow motion. Erik reaches out and pops her ass so intensely that Y/N yelps. Erik takes his fingers, pulling on that rip and distressing her jeans even more. Now she has a big ass hole there with some of the jean material hanging.

“Daddy-“

“Girl, I don’t give a fuck about these jeans. Take all this shit off now.”

Y/N stands up, undoing her jeans and pulling them down. She bends over to get her feet out and now Erik could see her bright yellow thong.

“You so damn thick, Lil Mama, damn,” He smacks both her ass cheeks, “Daddy love all this,” Erik squeezes her ass, then both his hands came out to jiggle her prominent flesh, “Put my face in this ass and eat it the fuck up, ma.”

She felt heat prickle her skin.

“Yes, eat this ass and phat pussy, Daddy,” She encouraged him, “here,” she spread her cheeks showing him exactly what he wanted to see, “this ass and phat pussy, yeah?”

“All that ass and phat fucking pussy, bitch,” He rubs her asshole with his finger, “You hella tight back here...can’t even fit my fucking finger in.”

“This a virgin ass, Daddy. Ain’t no dick been in there,” she laughs. Y/N used small butt plugs before but that was it. She never thought about trying anal for herself because she was too chicken to do it but now, she could try it out for her Daddy.

“No dick been in here?” Erik asks with a low tone.

“Nope, none, Daddy.”

“So what does that mean for me?” He was rubbing her pussy lips now, squeezing them, and spreading them.

“You can take my ass if you want.”

“You sure?” Now he was thumbing her labia, “I got a big dick on me, Ma, it’s too much to handle.”

“I’ll be a good girl...” he was teasing her clit now.

“Be a good girl and give this ass up? If you say yes that means I get to take that ass and you can’t stop me. Once I’m in there I’m gon’ beat that tight ass up.”

Y/N knew how long and girthy Erik was but she wanted to try his big dick in her ass. Y/N wanted to see if she could handle him.

“I promise I’ll let you beat it up just like this pussy.”

“Oh...you getting it tonight, fuck that.”

Erik stood up, grabbing Y/N and throwing her over his shoulder so he could play with her ass cheeks. They walked into her shared dorm room that was just as messy as her mini living room. He was gonna make her clean up but first, he needed his dick wet. He tossed her down to her bed, pulling her Trap and Sex shirt off and then her bra.

“Trap and Sex?” He sucked on her nipples, “That means you like fucking to trap music, Lil Mama? Pop that pussy and twerk that big ass on the dick? Fuck this pink puss to the beat?”

“Mmmm, baybee,” Erik motorboated her breasts causing her to giggle. She opens her legs for him so he could play all in her wet pussy and suck her titties at the same time.

“Got the pussy all open and shit,” Erik didn’t waste no time taking his three fingers, curling them, and fucking her pussy all the way down to the base of his fingers. She gushed and slushed all over him. It was so easy for him to slide his fingers in and out. He was still sucking her nipples and biting them. Y/N used all the strength in her thighs to keep them spread open and raised up while she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I see you, pretty girl, I see you opening them legs to give Daddy more of that phat pussy.”

Her head fell back and her left hand came down to rub circles on her clit. She was creaming all the way down to her asshole. Bed sheets stained too.

“Got all this phat puss and ass. This shit is mine. Daddy only fucking you. You better not give this pussy to none of them little niggas or I’m punishing you. You hear me?”

“Yes! Oh, God, Erik-“

“Come correct, ma, it’s Daddy.”

Her puffy inner folds and clit were so warm and swollen from how fast she rubbed.

“Move your fucking hands. Keeping that juicy clit away from me. You tryna be stingy?”

“N-no,” she opened her pussy lips, “here you go, Daddy. It’s all yours...mmm...it’s all yours.”

“All this pink sweet pussy?” Erik stuck his tongue way out and thrashed it under the hood of her clit all over that shit. He got every single inch of her and now she was leaking for him. He always had her cumming fast with that mouth of his.

“Daddy, my clit is so hard...” She looked at him with defeated eyes.

“I know, that’s why I’m about to suck on it for you. Got my dick down here hurting for some of this good puss.” Erik wraps his lips around her clit and labia with those pussy riding lips he got. He was making her precious pussy cum. Her Daddy always gave her good licks and sucks.

“This pussy talking to me, Lil Mama, she wants me to put this dick in,” Erik stood up, pulling his sweats and briefs off uncaring about his shirt, “I’m fucking you just like this.”

His mouth-watering dick bounced as he positioned himself over her. He was so rough with the way he pulled her legs apart and back to her ears. Erik gripped the bottom of her bare feet firmly while using the power of his hips to drill into her pussy. That phat puss was happy to be taking some of him again. Every time felt like the first time with Erik. She was outrageously wet. His mature and violent strokes inside her once innocent pussy has Y/N talking in tongues.

“You like giving this pussy up to Daddy.”

“Yes!” She grabs Erik’s chain around his neck.

“You tryna choke Daddy out?” He spoke in a harsh tone that had her shivering.

“Mhm,” she tightened the chain causing it to cut into his skin, “choke Daddy back just like I fuck Daddy back.”

She could see his skin bruising from how tight she had his chain around his neck. Erik slowed down his strokes, his eyes hard and nostrils flared. Y/N let his chain go and used her own hand to grab his neck. She pulled Erik down to her mouth where she tongued his lips and sucked on them. He swiveled his hips inside of her and just allowed her wetness to hug him while they kissed. He was moaning in her mouth. No grunts or groans, straight moans. The tighter she made her hands the more he moaned while they kissed. Erik sounded so damn sexy moaning.

Ahhhh... *hisses* ahhhh... *hisses* ahhhh

He said that over and over with his raspy tone of voice. It was beautiful to hear a man moan and not be afraid to. When she let his neck go he gave her a deep desirable look that had her reaching out for his neck again.

“Ooooohmmm,” he moaned with his eyes on her, “Yeah, Lil Mama, choke me out like that.”

“Daddy I want you to moan for me, please?”

“I gotchu, ma,” Erik sucked on her fingers, “Ima moan while I fuck this pussy.”

“Fuck, yeah, Daddy.” Y/N lifts Erik’s shirt from his body, tossing it on the floor. He stroked her with his head hanging low to watch the way he dicked her down.

“Ain’t gon’ find dick like this again,” Erik watched his balls slap her ass with each stroke and his dick stretching her out, “Got me over here taking this wet wet showing you how a real nigga fuck some pussy.”

“Daddy-“

“You ain’t even gotta tell me, ma, I know this pussy ready to bust all over me. Cum on this daddy dick... you keeping it away from me?” He tilted his head down at her while his dick murdered her slit, “gimmie that shit...mhmm, mhmm...cum-on-this-dick.”

“Shittttttttt, baybeeeee,” She shook under him as she released on his dick. Erik smiles at her while Y/N’s eyes rolled shut. He pulls his dick out for her to see what she’d done. Creamy and dripping wet.

“Lick me up,” He ordered.

Y/N licked him like an ice cream cone, cleaning him all off.

“You got some lube, ma?”

“Yeah,” She got up on wobbly legs, walking over to her dresser. Erik sits down on the edge of the bed to remove his socks before falling back with his hand around his dick, jerking it. In Y/N’s periphery, she could see her Daddy’s balls jump and his hand twist and pull on himself. She moved her ankle socks and panties to the side to reveal a bottle of grape-flavored lube she received in a goodie bag from her other campus friend Morgan’s toy party. They were gonna need the whole bottle with how big his pipe is and how tight her asshole is. She walked back over to him, sitting the lube on the bed and as if compelled, sucked the tip of his dick while he jerked his stiffness.

“Can’t keep this dick out your mouth for nothing,” Erik laughs before grunting deep, “look at you tryna suck me like a straw, Lil nasty ass. I like that shit. C’mon, I’m tryna cum in your ass.”

Y/N’s mouth popped off and Erik stood up from the bed to stand behind her.

“You know how I like it. Face down, ass up.”

Y/N got into position. She felt his dick hit the back of her thigh. All that thick meat was about to enter her ass. She shivered from how nervous she was. Erik got down on his knees while his right hand pumped his dick. He puts his tongue in her ass and the second she felt that snake-like tongue wiggle and that spit drizzle down to her pussy she let out a sharp moan. She couldn’t see his face since he was all between her cheeks but damn she wanted him to see her expression. Her eyes watered and her mouth was wide with pure shock. His wet tongue was stabbing at her asshole. She reached back to hold her cheeks open. Erik mumbled something but he was too busy eating her booty she couldn’t understand a word he said.

He finally resurfaced with a shiny face, “Damn, I could feel that ass clenching around my tongue,” Erik opened her pussy wide, “all my spit just chilling in this creamy shit,” he leaned in to suck her clit slowly before letting go with a pop of his lips, “Y/N...I swear to God, ma...pass a nigga that lube!”

She quickly handed it over to him. Erik popped the cap on it, squeezing out so much of it to slather over his dick. Y/N could smell the grape flavoring of the lube. Erik was drenched in that shit. He takes some from his dick, bringing it to Y/N’s virgin ass to finger her there with it. She was gripping his fingers. Every time his knuckle would enter her she clenched around him.

“You gotta relax, ma,” Erik instructed, “I know you can’t help it but relaxing is the only way I can fuck this ass, you hear me?”

“Yes, sorry,” she breathed evenly to steady herself.

“Good girl. You ready?” Erik stood behind Y/N.

“Please,” That was enough of a response for him. Lil Mama just didn’t know what she was getting herself into with Erik. He fucked ass just like he fucked pussy. Had chicks crying. But the pussy still came so they ended up asking for more. His good girl could take some dick like a champ though. He wanted to see if she could hold her record.

Erik instructed for Y/N to grip the sheets. Erik began to ease his large member into her tight, bubbling ass. Y/N closed her eyes and tightened her fists around the sheets to distract herself when Erik entered her. She couldn’t believe how much pressure and pain she was feeling. Y/N tried to breathe slowly and steadily to calm herself as he penetrated deeper into her ass.

“Oh my God,” Erik slaps her ass, “Baby, this ass is so tight on my dick. You’re pulling on my dick right now.”

Erik eased out and went back into her even further than before. Y/N gasped and inhaled as she felt the pressure from him reentering her.

“Lil Mama, I’m done teasing you I’m ready to fuck this ass, you good?” He was desperate.

“Y-yes,” she spoke with her face in the sheets.

Erik grabbed Y/N by the waist and slammed into her.

Y/N screamed, “Daddy!!!!!” She reaches back to push at his chest, “Daddy, nooooo, Not yet! Slow down!”

Erik wasn’t listening; the feeling had overtaken him and he was in the zone. Erik slammed into her, then out, then bam! Back in. Y/N’s legs were weakening and she could barely keep her back arched to take all of his daddy dick. Every time she would move Erik would fix her arch as he rammed into her.

Y/N pleaded, “Daddy! Please cum! I can’t handle you! Please cum! Please!”

Erik was enjoying this. Hearing her beg him with a weakened tone and deep throaty moans made his dick even harder.

Erik answered, “This is what you wanted, remember? Shut up and let me slam in this ass real good!” He pulled all the way out to the tip. All that lube was needed because his dick went right back in like it never left. She compressed him tighter than that pussy. Erik’s eyes rolled with pleasure each time she clenched him.

“Daddy,” she spoke with a raw throat, “I wanna take Daddy’s dick, I really do, but it hurts.”

Erik groaned, “I’ll go slow to stretch it and you let me know when I can go faster, aight?”

“Okay,” she looked back at him with her watery eyes, “Daddy you really like my ass. You were fucking it so hard,” she spoke with a whisper.

“Your shit is too tight, Lil Mama,” Erik stares down at his lube covered dick stretching her ass out. She gasps each time he hit her deep with the tip of his dick. He had Lil Mama groaning with his dick all in her ass.

“Daddy fucking this ass real good ain’t he.”

“Yeah,” She was starting to get used to the feeling of being stuffed back there, “It’s starting to feel a little better...”

“So, can Daddy go faster?”

She chewed her lip nervously, “Kay.”

“If you want Daddy to cum in you I’m gonna have to slam a little harder than I am to get it out.”

She melted at his words. Erik was so persuasive.

“I understand, Daddy.”

Erik began to beat her ass up harder and faster. Y/N was reminded of the pain yet again but it was subtle and the pleasure was more pronounced. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to accept the way her ass wrapped around Erik and the pressure she could feel in her lower belly. She could understand why people enjoyed anal but damn you had to be a G to take it like this.

As Y/N began to relax she started pumping back onto Erik. This caused Erik to thrust harder into her tightness surrounding him. He held onto Y/N as he fucked her. She was helping him by pushing back against him and saying, “Daddy you're so full in my ass, you're fucking the shit outta me!”

“Hmph! Love my dick throbbing in this ass, yes...just bend over for Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Y/N was being trained well to take his big black dick. She rubbed her wet pussy all over and even stuck three fingers in. She finger fucked her juicy box while Erik beat her ass up like fight night.

“Put that work in for Daddy! Good girls take it deep and hard in the ass!”

“YES!” Her ass stung from how hard she clapped back on him. “Yes! Yes! Oh shit, yeah, baby, work this ass! That’s right, fuck the shit outta me!”

“Open that ass up for me-“

“Like this, Daddy,” she spread her cheeks.

“That’s a good girl, let Daddy fill this ass up.”

Erik pounded away until he could no longer hold it. Erik banged his dick in her ass while his balls slapped her clit. The way his dick throbbed had Y/N gasping for air. He gave her one final hard thrust before his load filled her ass up to the brim. Y/N was worn-out from the ass whipping she had endured. Erik was even out of breath and weak.

His dick slid out causing both of them to moan. She rolled over onto her back gently. She looked up at Erik’s drenched body as he stares down at his still hard dick.

“You good, pretty girl?” Erik walked up to sit on the bed next to her. He turned Y/N over onto her back and rubbed her ass. She gave him a weak smile but as soon he opened her ass cheeks to see her lubed up asshole she let out a whimper. She clenched her cheeks but Erik’s grip on her was so firm she couldn’t fight him.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” His voice got deeper and huskier.

“Yes, Daddy,” Y/N said while looking into his dark eyes. They tended to get darker when he was really horny.

“Daddy...I need a break,” Y/N gave him an innocent look that always worked, “Please, Daddy?”

His jaw clenched but then a smirk appeared in his lips, “Aight, Lil Mama. We can take a shower and then I’ll run you a bubble bath, okay?”

She felt so relieved. If she didn’t plead with him to give her a break Erik would be fucking her ass again. That was a lot to handle. Y/N finally stood up from the bed with wobbly ankles. Erik helped her out by carrying her. Y/N didn’t think she would be able to take more dick tonight but knowing Erik he wouldn’t allow that for too long.

———————-

“Oh, you’re a nasty bitch, Y/N.”

Brandy came home the next day around late afternoon with her overnight bag and a bonnet on her head. The place was clean since Y/N had nothing else to do since Erik left. He had plans that evening to meet up with some friends. Y/N was currently filling her friend in on how much sex she’d been having with Erik.

“How big is he?” Brandy asked while studying for her intro to cybersecurity course.

“I don’t know, maybe 9 or 10 inches. And thick girl, whew.”

“And you can take all that now? Erik changed my girl,” Brandy joked.

“I thank you for introducing us.” If it wasn’t for Brandy Y/N wouldn’t have known Erik.

“Nah, it wasn’t me. Erik has been wanting your ass! He asked about you and I just passed on the word that’s all.”

“I miss him,” she pouts, “I won’t see him until tomorrow night.”

“Girl, give your pussy a break!” Brandy shouted playfully.

“I just love fucking with him, Brandy. He makes my body feel so good.”

“So...is he more than a fuck buddy?” Brandy questions.

“I don’t know about all that right now. We like where we are and I don’t wanna push it too far and fuck up our connection.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“Only the basic stuff like where he is originally from and what he’s going to school for and what his interests are. Just the first base stuff.”

Brandy placed her highlighter in the middle of her textbook, “I’m only asking because I can tell that you like him more than just wanting to hop on the dick. You should talk to him, see if he feels the same way.”

“I will,” Y/N spoke softly, “I just don’t want to scare him away.”

“I doubt that,” Brandy giggles, “He is pussy-whipped.”

Y/N couldn’t disagree. Erik would call and text her phone throughout the day just to get a response from her if he couldn’t see her and if he could see Y/N she was always at his place. He even cleared out a top drawer for her things. If she didn’t answer his calls or texts he would be so damn mad and when they finally meet up her pussy was his for the taking.

Disrespectful, bitch. Don’t you ever ignore me again, you hear me, girl? Got me in here fucking the shit out this phat puss. Say sorry to Daddy, bitch, you owe me.

And then she was right on her knees or opening her legs for him.

A slut for this Daddy dick.

No. He didn’t text or call her since he left. What was he up to? She knew he was busy with school as well but damn, he could have at least sent a quick text with kissy-face and tongue emojis. While Brandy studies, Y/N picked up here phone to text Erik.

-Daddy I miss you 😽

She saw his text bubbles and then his message showed up.

-Daddy miss you too.

-how much?

Erik sent her a photo. It was him smiling in a black beanie with his jeans unzipped and that dick long and thick. He took really good dick pics. She loved the fact that he smiled at her like that. He made her melt. She wanted to melt in his mouth.

-Omg Daddy! come here, please 🤗

-can’t, Lil Mama. I’m about to have some company.

-I wanna cuddle with you and sit on your lap🥺

-that’s all? LOL I know that ain’t the only thing you want. Look at that pic again.

-okay, I want some dick too so? Lol. You fucked me so good last night I want some more 😋

-Can’t tonight, I told your ass that. I gotchu tomorrow, don’t worry. I’ll fuck you from the living room to the bed I promise.

-☹️

-fix your fucking face.

- *sigh* okay.

-good girl. Let me hit you back later I gotta make some moves. Be good, Lil Mama 😚

-I will Daddy, TTYL 🥰

——————-

Later came around and sitting in her dorm watching Hulu was a drag. Brandy was busy doing her classmates' hair in the living room. She slept on and off and studied the entire day. After showering, Y/N put on a pair of panties and a band tee to get in bed to be even lazier. It was around 9:30 pm when she had just about enough. Not being wrapped around Erik had her going insane. Then, there was the fact that her mind replayed all of their nasty sex. She was sloppy wet. Y/N pulled her covers back, sitting up on her elbows, and spreading her legs to see her pussy. She fingered her folds to gather some of her wetness. Y/N brought her fingers to her mouth, sucked her essence off, and without a care, she started running circles into her clit.

She edged herself in that bed. Each time she was ready to cum, Y/N would stop. This always gave her the best orgasms. Erik’s name spilled from her mouth as her fingers rubbed and rubbed until she was cumming. She felt her sheets dampen under her ass from squirting. Y/N grabs her phone from her pillow, swiping left to pull up her camera. She put her flash on and started recording a video of her wet cum stained pussy. After that, she sent it off to Erik so he could see what he was missing right now

-Fucking really, Y/N?

-😛

-that little creamy pussy is soaked. You sample my pussy after you came Lil Mama?

-it was so tasty 😋

-Now I really gotta tear that ass up. Chilling with my friends and my dick hard.

-fuck me...

-drive over here right fucking now.

She was up out that bed real quick.

———————

Y/N pulled up in her leggings and a crop top and ugg slippers. She made it into Erik’s apartment building rapidly. The minute she knocked on that door one of Erik’s friends answered.

“Damn, shorty? Who you here to see?” He bit his lip at Y/N. She could hear talking in the back.

“Erik.” Y/N spoke softly.

“Okay, sweetie. Yo E!”

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him walk up to the door. She was craving him in all her holes. Her mouth, ass, and pussy were lonely and ready to be filled.

“Hey, E.”

“Who?” Erik asked while his friend watched. Y/N looked over at Erik’s friend then back at him with timid eyes.

“Don’t be shy, Lil Mama. What I say about all that shy shit? Now, what’s my name?”

“Daddy.” She blushed with embarrassment. Erik leaned forward, grabbing the side of Y/N’s neck softly to tongue her down briefly. 

“Damn,” Erik’s friend clapped Erik on the back, “that’s my nigga, Erik.”

Both men allowed her to step inside and Y/N was surrounded by nothing but weed smoke and loud trap music. Roddy Ricch was playing from Erik’s beats Pill. There were at least seven guys there plus Erik included. Some smoking and drinking, Erik playing the game since he had a controller in his hand.

“Aye!” Erik yelled over the loud music, “this is Y/N.”

“Hi,” she waved shyly with a smile.”

They all said their hellos. Some lingering on her with interest while the others returned to whatever they were doing.

“Damn, you came by yourself? No friends for us?” The guy in question was rolling up some weed. He was tall and muscular with a full beard.

“Sorry, I just came to see my Daddy,” she placed her hand on Erik’s chest while he leaned down to wrap his arm around her waist. She was so small that he had to bend down to grab her. Some of his friends gave each other looks and she was sure they were going to ask Erik about how good Y/N’s pussy is. Erik has a way of affecting you without doing much except for existing. The evil glint in his eyes was enough to let his friends know that Y/N was his and only his.

“Here TJ,” Erik passes his controller over to whoever TJ was, “I’ll be back, gotta handle something with Lil Mama real quick.”

“Go handle that,” The friend that opened the door joked.

“Nigga shut the fuck up. I don’t need you talking on my behalf I got this.”

Y/N glanced at his friend. He could see the embarrassment on his face. He was a grown-ass man and he allowed Erik to shut him up. His homeboys joked in the background but something told Y/N that all of them knew not to fuck with Erik.

After Erik checked his friend, Erik kept his hand around Y/N’s waist as they walked to the back where his room was. The anticipation to fuck him was killing her. His fingertips stroked her spine at first but as soon as they walked past his doorway Erik seized the back of Y/N’s neck before slamming his door shut. The loud rap music vibrated his bedroom walls. Y/N turned around to look at Erik. Her terror-stricken face didn’t do anything to calm his rage. Erik folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance before he began to speak.

“You sent that video to get back at me or something?”

“No...” she spoke slowly.

“Nah, you had to because I sent you that picture of me holding my dick,” He narrows his eyes at her, “my dick is hard as a motherfucker right now.”

“Lemme see,” she went to grab his crotch but Erik smacked her hand away. Hard.

With an alarming look on her face, she stroked her sore hand. Erik didn’t seem to care about her pain. He was too busy worried about his hard dick.

“You owe me an apology.”

“Why?!” She didn’t understand why he was so damn upset about this.

“Because I told you I was busy-“

“You sent me that pic and I was a horny fucking mess, Erik. I had to make myself cum because of you. Don’t stand there and do that.”

“Y/N,” Erik closed his eyes, “Who the fuck is in charge? If I send you a pic, Lil Mama, I expect you to rub that pussy. Don’t send me shit back to turn me on when I’m with my boys. My dick is hard as fuck, Y/N, you don’t understand what I’m telling you? My-shit-is-hard.”

He grabbed his dick and Y/N wished it was her hand.

“So, I can’t send you nothing back without permission?” She asked with caution.

“Not when I’m around my niggas. My phone was out in the open, baby girl. What if they saw that puss? It’s mine. You got amnesia or something?”

Daddy, no. I didn’t think about that.” She fiddled with her fingers. 

“Just shut the fuck up and come suck my dick,” Erik spoke hastily. 

Erik started undoing his button and zipper. His jeans and briefs dropped down and around his ankles. His dick was so hard it poked straight out at her. Daddy was right. All that hard dick tucked away in his pants. She could understand his anger. That shit was probably pulsating and thumping like a heartbeat in his jeans. Y/N took long strides from where his bed was to get to his dick. She got down on her knees, grabbed his whopping erection, and guzzled that dick. 

“Damn,” Erik hissed before letting out a deep moan, “Suck my dick, bitch. Suck me good.” Y/N was loving on Erik’s juicy meat each time she drew it into her mouth. Down in a squat and using only her mouth to suck his dick, Y/N started moving her hips to the music. She was enjoying herself why not dance a little? Erik lifted his shirt to rest under his chin and then he took both his hands to grab her face and fuck her mouth. Her head rocked back and the gagging she did was drowned out by the music. He was so big that he stabbed the back of her throat. She was losing her balance from how intense he fed her some dick. 

“Fucking bitch.” He was vicious. Y/N was ready for him to cum because of his assault on her mouth. She smacked his thighs hard snapping Erik out of it so she could take a breath. 

“D-Daddy,” Her throat felt raw, “I’m sorry, I really am, I can’t take it.” 

“But you always take this dick like a good girl,” Erik rubbed the tip of his dick on her lips, “I think you know not to play with me like that again.”

Y/N nodded her head swiftly, “Yes, Daddy. Can I suck your dick again, please? I’m ready. I wanna swallow your cum, Daddy,” Y/N grabbed his dick and started planting delicate kisses along his shaft, “Pretty please, Daddy? then you can fuck my pussy,” She pats her pussy, “I want you inside me,” She whispered seductively.

“Fuck...Girl,” Erik grabbed his dick, “Here, just take it from me since you so damn greedy for this Daddy dick!”

“Thank you, Daddy,” She sucked him up damn near making her delirious. 

“You really love sucking this Daddy dick, Lil Mama.”

Y/N focused all her love and affection on the tip of his pipe. Her tongue would flick the underside of his head while her lips twirled around it like she was sucking on a lollipop or a popsicle. 

“Ohhhhh shit, get that shit, girl!”

The more she sucked the more Erik cheered her on. His member became thicker in her mouth and now she was drooling down her chin and her shirt. 

“Fuck, Lil Mama, you making me cum,” His face scrunched up and after his dick pulsated in her mouth a few times Erik’s tasty cum oozed out the sides of her mouth. She couldn’t stop sucking his dick. Erik had to grab her hair and pull her mouth off to stop her. Y/N’s chin and neck was covered with the cum that spilled from her mouth. She tried putting him back in her mouth leading Erik to playfully slap her face. 

“Stop it, girl. I want some pussy now.” Y/N raised her body from the floor. Erik started undressing her, yanking on her clothes with his thick fingers. Now that she was fully undressed, Erik lifts Y/N from the floor to wrap her legs around his waist. She grabbed his shoulders and pressed her cum covered face into his neck. Y/N breathed in his scent and kissed him with her wet lips. 

“mmmm,” His dick smacked her in the pussy, “I can’t wait anymore I’m getting in this pussy.”

Using all his strength, Erik spread Y/N’s legs, using his hips to stretch her pussy open. He started rocking into her at a speedy pace like he was fucking her to the beat of the trap music. The drumming of his walls mixed with the way Y/N moaned was euphoria. Her moisture made squelching noises as it saturated Erik’s dick. She was so wet Erik’s dick kept slipping out. He was literally drenched from the tip of his dick to his balls. Her pussy sheathed his dick like a flesh-eating piranha. 

“This phat pussy on you ain’t no joke, girl.” 

Her ass and thighs ricocheted off of him as he pounded her pussy. Y/N couldn’t control her cries for more. The vision of Erik staring intently into her eyes as he took control of her body.

“Dayum, I feel that pussy gripping. I stay digging in yo’ shit don’t I?”

“YES! fuck-YES.”

Erik walked while still pumping his dick in Y/N until her back touched the bed. Erik pinned her down and stuffed her tight little pussy until it started talking back. That pussy was making a lot of noise whenever Erik dropped all that dick, balls deep, in that pussy. Erik watched the way he pounded her wetness. 

“Damn, that’s a beautiful pink pussy. It makes me wanna eat it for hours.”

“Please do Daddy- OH FUCK!” Her eyes rolled back, “I love Daddy dick!”

“Daddy fucking this pussy, girl. I gotchu. You getting this pussy fucked.”

He was so calm with his words but that dick was a monster. Y/N gladly gave her pussy up. 

“Take as much dick as you want, Lil Mama. Let Daddy make that pussy feel good. Let Daddy eat that pussy and ass. Let Daddy finger that pussy anywhere-”

“BAYBEEEEEE!!!!!” 

She yelled at the top of her lungs while cumming on Erik’s dick. They both hadn’t noticed that the music stopped playing. Her moans and the sound of their skin slapping seeped through those thin walls. Erik didn’t give two fucks at that point. His only care was to make Y/N’s pussy cum so she could squeeze his thick dick and milk him dry. 

“Open that pussy baby, I’m so close,” Erik whispered. Her weak legs went up and over his shoulder. Y/N’s sweet voice and soft moans in his ear weakened him further. his balls were so tight and ready to empty all his cum. Erik sucked on her nipples while he stroked. He was pulling on her clit with his veiny shaft.

“Yes,” Erik started looking distressed in the face. He reached his hand out to grab her neck provoking Y/N to grab his neck in return. Erik was defeated when her little hand wrapped around his neck. The feeling of her warm fingers and coffin-shaped nails sinking into the skin on the back of his neck made Erik shoot his load in spurts. Each time he pumped a thick stream of cum would erupt from his slit. 

“Cum for me, Daddy.”

Erik slipped out of her slowly, grunting when he saw his cum drip from her pussy and onto his bed. Y/N kept her legs wide open and killed him with those big innocent eyes. 

“All that wet ass pussy.”

She bit her lip while her hips moved in slow circles. 

“You ain’t bring no clothes did you?”

She smiles, “I did, and my books.”

“Hmm,” Erik looked at her pussy again, “Give me your fucking keys so I can get your stuff. Take a shower and sleep naked for some more dick. I’m getting rid of these niggas.”

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @rent-emspoons @abluesforlyssa

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - Lucy’s Birth Story

A/N June 24th is an important day in the ABM universe...I figured we can take a little read to find out why! Hope you enjoy 🧡 + be forewarned about plenty of fluff included here 🥺 

A/N2 Also this pic of Daniel omg you can’t tell me it doesn’t look like him seeing his new baby for the first time 🥺 all that emotion in his expression

T/W Idk if this counts as a trigger warning but there are detailed descriptions of labour and delivery!

W/C 8.6k words

Daniel kept himself busy after the wedding to support their little family, spending long days in the studio with his university friend, Jack. Money was tight but comfortable and with extra funds that Callum managed to get from his and Florence’s parents back in LA, they had purchased a three-bedroom apartment as soon as possible. Clementine and Penelope loved their home, playing on the balcony as much as they could in summer as they said the 56th floor made them feel like the Queens of the city. Once the end of November came around, they were often stuck inside due to the weather starting to drop, playing under the grand piano in the living room.

Florence was cleaning up from dinner when her phone rang. Daniel always called when he was leaving work.

“I can’t wait to come home.” he said right when she answered. She could hear him getting into his car in the background.

“Me too. We missed you at dinner.” Florence replied, wiping her hands on the dish cloth that was hanging over her shoulder.

“I haven’t even eaten yet.” Daniel sighed. “I’m so tired.”

“Pick up something to eat on the way home.” Florence suggested, glancing to the two young girls across the room before she added, “and I need you to pick up something from the drug store if you can.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“A pregnancy test?”

The silence on the other end made her smile softly. She could picture his face exactly; his wide eyes and discrete smile.

He was quiet a moment before speaking, “Yeah…I can definitely grab one. Do you think-”

“We’re not jinxing it, Dani.” Florence chuckled.

“No, of course not.” Daniel smiled widely. “I’m on my way.”

Every evening when the front door opened and Daniel came in from work, the girls dropped what they were doing and ran for him, throwing their tiny arms around him. This night was no different as he bent down to greet his daughters, pressing equal amounts of kisses to their heads. Daniel glanced up at Florence who was stood in the archway, leaning against the wall. He stood up and handed her the small bag from the drugstore with a wink, leaning in to kiss her once.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Daddy! Can you play with us?!” Clementine asked loudly, bouncing on her toes.

“I think it’s almost bedtime, Clemmie girl, don’t you think?” Daniel brushed a hand through her messy blonde hair.

“No.” Clementine frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Tomorrow I will. I promise.” Daniel assured her. “We’ll have story time tonight in the big bed, okay?”

The girls shrieked excitedly and ran off down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Daniel took the moment of silence to hug his wife, sharing their quiet ‘I love you’s, before he was called by the girls down the hall.

After two storybooks amongst a mound of pillows and the duvet, the girls started to drift, wrapped up in his arms. Florence took Clementine to bed and Daniel took Penelope, tucking them into their beds in their own rooms. The two young adults met back in the hallway, standing with a few feet between them.

“I’m like…a few weeks late.” Florence said.

“That’s a good sign.” Daniel replied.

“Not for sure though.” Florence added.

“That’s okay. Do you want me with you?” Daniel asked her quietly.

“Of course.” Florence nodded.

They found themselves in the ensuite, staring at the unopened box of two pregnancy tests on the counter. They stood there a while, Daniel waiting for Florence to make her first move. He glanced at her.

“They won’t tell us anything if you don’t take them.” Daniel chuckled.

Florence took a deep breath and took the box with her to the bathroom. She shut the door and got to work. Daniel sat on the counter waiting for her, finishing the now cold take-out from McDonald’s he picked up on the way home. She came back out and washed her hands, leaving the two tests in the opened box between them.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Florence whispered, leaning her hands on the counter.

“I thought you wanted another one?” Daniel frowned, pulling lightly at her arm so she moved to stand between his legs.

“I do. So bad. Maybe I’m nervous that it will be negative.” Florence sighed.

“So we try again.” Daniel shrugged, taking her hands in his. “And again and again and again-“

Florence rolled her eyes at him through a smile, letting him press a kiss to her lips. They fell into silence as they waited, hands together.

“I’ve never been with someone when I do this.” Florence admitted. “It’s kind of nice.”

“Isn’t it?” Daniel smiled.

“Thank you for being here.”

“You’re my wife now, remember? I gotta be here with you for everything.” Daniel said, taking her face in his hands. “No going through things by yourself anymore.”

Florence took the front of his shirt in her hands and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

“Can we look, yet?” Daniel finally mumbled against her mouth. “I’m dying here.”

“Yeah.” Florence said, picking up the box again. She dumped both tests into her hand, hiding the screen face down. She passed one to Daniel and kept one for herself.

They both stared down at the hidden tests in their hand before looking back up to each other.

“I’m nervous!” Florence shrieked quietly, bouncing on her toes a little.

“Count to 3, okay?” Daniel smiled, reaching out his one free hand to hold hers. “1…2…3…”

They both turned the screens face up in their palms, each showing a clear pair of solid pink lines.

“Dani…” Florence breathed, squeezing his hand.

“2 lines is good, right?!” he asked quickly, looking up at her.

“So good.” Florence nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel whispered, hoping off the counter to wrap her in a tight hug. “We’re gonna have a baby. Together this time.”

Florence laughed lightly against his shoulder, staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hand, “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Daniel smiled.

“But seriously, Dani.” Florence pulled back from their hug, “I’m worried. Penelope came so early. The doctors said it was from the stress I was constantly in and I don’t want that to happen again. We lucked out with her health but-“

“There’s no reason to be stressed this time.” Daniel assured her, brushing her hair back form her face, “I’m going to be with you through everything. Every doctor’s appointment and everything.”

“Don’t promise that.” Florence chuckled. “You have a job.”

“The last two times you had to do so much on your own. I want to be here for everything. We’re going to do it right this time. I promise.”

~~

Christmas was only a few weeks away and keeping such a big secret was agonizing. They had planned the announcement for Christmas and swore themselves to secrecy. Daniel had to somehow see Jack almost every day at the studio and not say anything. Their first obstacle was telling their two girls who they knew had to be told first. Christmas Eve brought the perfect opportunity, the small family back in Vancouver with Daniel’s family for their annual Christmas visit. Still in their dresses and stockings from church, Clementine and Penelope were each handed a wrapped box as the family of four sat on the rug in front of the lit Christmas tree and warm fireplace, Daniel’s parents and siblings sitting around the couches. It was always a tradition to open one gift on Christmas Eve so this wasn’t unusual to the girls.

Clementine, who was closing in on 5 years old quickly, tore open the paper excitedly, her 18-month younger sister desperately trying to keep up. Inside the boxes were a set of pyjamas for each of them. The candy cane patterned sleeves and trim on the shirt matched the pants, Florence and Daniel both having their own matching pair in their room. The girls’ had writing on their shirts, however, the I’s of the red lettering were peppermint wheels reading ‘Big Sister’.

Clementine could read hers easily, the fact easily understood since she had been a big sister for 4 years. Penelope simply stared at hers, the 4-year-old not quite grasping full words yet.

“What does it say, Penny?” Florence asked.

“I dunno.” Penelope giggled shyly.

“Hers says ‘Big Sister’ too.” Clementine said. “That’s wrong. She’s the little sister.”

“She won’t be for long.” Daniel said through a smile.

“Oh my gosh!” Anna shrieked, clapping her hands over her mouth. “You’re pregnant?!”

Florence laughed and nodded lightly.

“No, you’re not!” Keri gaped.

“Yes, we are.” Florence giggled as Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek, tucking his arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

The adults got up to share eager hugs and congratulations, a few happy tears being shed in the process. The young girls stared blankly at them, not quite grasping what was happening.

Christian bent down between the girls, “You guys are going to have a little brother or sister.”

“A baby?” Clementine looked up at her parents.

“Yeah, Clemmy girl, a brand-new baby!” Daniel smiled, sitting back on the rug again.

“Are you happy?” Florence asked as she joined him.

“Yeah.” Clementine shrieked suddenly, tossing the tissue paper in the air and nearly hitting Christian in the face.

“What about you, bug?” Daniel asked their soft-spoken second daughter. “You want a brother or sister?”

Penelope’s little smile brightened at his gentle acknowledgment, her rosy cheeks hiding behind her new pyjamas as everyone looked at her. She nodded gently, her soft giggle muffled by the clean fabric.

“Mommy’s having a baby, Nell!” Clementine yelled, tackling her younger sister onto the carpet.

“Clem, you’re more excited than all of us combined.” Florence laughed, grabbing the eldest by her waist and pulled her onto her lap.

“Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” Daniel asked the room.

“Yes please!” Penelope kicked her legs in the air, her red dress flying up by her head.

Daniel pulled her towards him by her ankles before taking her hands so she was on her feet. She draped her arm around his shoulder and the rest of the family gathered around behind them as he unlocked his phone to open the email from the doctor’s office. The black and white image of the little blob filled his screen.

“Wow.” Clementine breathed, leaning over to get a better look as the room awe’d gently. Penelope pulled the hem of her dress up to bite at, her wide blue eyes scanning the still image awestruck.

“Who do you think it looks like?” Daniel asked, gently pulling the dress out of her mouth.

“Me!” Clementine shouted.

“You?!” Florence laughed.

“Where is the baby?” Penelope whispered, leaning her head on Daniel’s.

“In my tummy.” Florence said.

“Why?”

“Because that’s just where babies grow.” Florence shrugged.

“How did it get there?” Penelope yawned.

“Yeah! How did it get there?” Clementine added, looking between her parents.

“Oh, Lord.” Christian laughed loudly, stepping back and headed for the kitchen, “I’m going to get a drink.”

Daniel chuckled nervously, telling his daughters, “A little magic from the wedding.”

“Do I get some too?” Clementine asked.

“Not until you get married which isn’t for years and years from now.” Daniel said.

“Many, many years.” Keri jumped in, scooping up her granddaughter. “Even more than your Mommy and Daddy waited.”

Daniel glared playfully at her, making the adults laugh.

“Why don’t we get into our pj’s and then have story time by the fire before we have to get into bed?” Florence suggested.

And that’s what they did, the four of them changing into their matching pyjamas for their last Christmas as a family of four, cuddled up on the couch with a picture book, their extended family joining with mugs of tea around the living room too. Daniel had his arm around his little family, lazily twisting a strand of Florence’s hair around his finger as she read out loud.

It was the one night a year the girls didn’t want a second book, eager to get to bed so Santa could come. The girls were tucked into bed and things in the living room were taken care of by the adults before they were off to bed themselves, cuddled up together as light snow filled the city below.

~~

The new year came with fresh starts and busy days. Penelope needed to move into Clementine’s room since they needed room for the nursey. Florence wanted to get started early, often waking up early to work, Daniel finding her pushing an entire dresser down the hallway at 6am. He constantly had to pull her back to bed, trying to convince her to let him take care of the big things.

The girls loved to talk to the baby, pressing their sticky hands to her small belly anytime they could. They shared many stories too and Clementine often came home from Junior Kindergarten with paintings for the baby which would be put safely in a book.

Each doctor’s appointment was finished with glowing reviews, everything progressing smoothly and, as promised, Daniel was there for each and every one. It was at their 20-week ultrasound that Florence was handed the sealed envelope that contained only a folded piece of paper. For both her pregnancies, she waited until the birth to know the gender since she didn’t feel the need. This time, Daniel insisted on a gender reveal party, giving Michael and Luke Clifford the privilege of finding out first and planning the whole thing.

It was during March Break when spring was starting to poke through the melting snow and Clementine would have the whole week out of school. All their family and friends came, even Daniel’s family flew in for the week, everyone dressed in either blue or pink for which ever gender they guessed.

That morning, Daniel came into the ensuite bathroom in all white, buttoning up the final button on his collared shirt.

“Where’s your colour?” Florence asked from her spot at her dressing table, fastening her earring.

“I don’t want to wear a colour because I don’t want to make the baby feel bad if they’re not what I guessed.” Daniel shrugged, leaning down next to her. “I’m going to be happy either way.”

Florence glanced at her sky-blue dress in the mirror and pursed her lips.

“You look beautiful.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his hand falling to her swollen belly.

“Maybe I should wear white too.” Florence said.

“You don’t have to.” Daniel chuckled, moving to the sink to brush his teeth.

“I was thinking boy because I haven’t had any morning sickness this time but my other two I did.” Florence said quietly, eyeing her dress before looking back to him.

“So stay in blue.” Daniel answered through his toothbrush.

“No…I’m going white too. We have to match.” Florence tisked, getting up from her chair to find a white dress in her closet.

Her sudden stop made Daniel frown, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I felt a kick.” Florence breathed, setting a hand on her stomach. Daniel got rid of his toothbrush and joined her, setting his hand next to hers. Sure enough, a tiny flutter moved under their palms.

“We have a tiny dancer on our hands.” Daniel smiled softly.

Florence let her right-hand fall to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, staring at his wide eyes and parted lips, his expression full of awe.

“I love you.” Florence whispered.

“I love you too.” Daniel grinned, leaning in to kiss her.

“Are you almost ready in there? We need to get going soon!” Callum called from the hallway.

Florence quickly switched into a white dress and heels and they joined their little family in the living room. The girls were both wearing light blue overalls with pink undershirts since they both kept switching between ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ every five minutes. Callum and Aidan both went with blue.

“You’re cheating!” Clementine shouted, pointing at her parents’ white outfits.

“We can’t break the rules if we made them.” Daniel said with a wink.

Michael and Luke had everything set up in the ballroom space of the apartment building, the same place Clementine had her first birthday. Everyone was already there, helping themselves to snacks and drinks. It wasn’t long before Daniel and Florence were directed to the front of the room, Clementine and Penelope joining them beside a large black balloon held by Michael. He handed it to the two little girls, giving them the instruction to hold tightly to the string so it wouldn’t float away.

When the room was quiet, Luke passed over a safety pin to Daniel and one to Florence. On a count to three, they were to pop the balloon and the confetti inside would reveal the gender.

“I’m nervous again!” Florence giggled.

“It’s a boy and I’ll bet money on that!” Callum called from the front of their small group.

“Willing to make that a bet? $50. It’s a girl.” Christian held out his hand.

“Deal. I know my sister.” Callum shook on it. “It’s a boy.”

“Ready?” Daniel smiled to his wife.

“So ready.” Florence leaned over to kiss him, the two girls between them laughing excitedly.

“3…!” Luke started. “2…1…!”

The pop of the balloon filled the quiet room and pink confetti rain down on the family of four. The little girls shrieked excitedly, jumping up and down in their own world. Beside them, Florence was more than shocked, falling into Daniel open arms.

Despite the shouting and laughing that took over the room, it felt like it was just the two of them. She could feel a tear fall onto her shoulder and Daniel held her tighter.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, his voice wavering.

“I love you.” Florence smiled, taking his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

“I believe you owe me money, Mr. DiCaprio!” Christian shouted over the excitement in the room.

~~

The remainder of the second and well into the third trimester was spent with Daniel waiting on her hand and foot. Florence didn’t like it at first, feeling badly that he was doing it all, but Daniel insisted, doing everything he could to keep her relaxed with her feet up. He took Clementine to school every morning and picked her up on his lunch break, he took charge of bath time for the girls and cleaned the apartment, and even (tried his best) to make dinner every night.

Florence really missed him throughout her last pregnancy as he was such a comfort through the end of her first, being the only thing to help her sleep in those later months. She basked in it this time, though, refusing to let him get out of bed until he was almost late for work. Not that he complained, he would have given anything to stay like that all day.

Even as summer came around and the apartment was always sweltering, Daniel had his arms around her like he would never let go. It was a vision of love and protection Florence never knew she really needed.

And one June morning, no earlier than sunrise, Florence awoke suddenly. Daniel’s arm was draped lazily over her waist with his bare chest pressed to her back, soft breaths let out against her neck. Sweat was pooling at her hairline and she gently slid his arm off of her and he shifted sleepily onto his back. Florence sat up, pushing the heavy duvet off of her to try and get some cool air. It wasn’t unusual that she was extra warm during her final few weeks as growing a full-term human wasn’t an easy task, so she merely took a second to catch her breath.

A small sharp pain made her flinch, pressing a hand underneath her swollen stomach. It was only when she started to make a move to get out of bed that she noticed the wet sheets. Her discovery was punctuated with a warm cramping spreading over her hips.

Florence looked to her right where Daniel laid, his brown hair sticking up in all directions and lips set in a small pout as he slept soundly. She gave him a small nudge, “Dani.”

He shifted tiredly to face the other way, pulling the blankets higher over him.

“Sweetheart.” Florence pulled them back before shaking his arm. “Daniel.”

He rolled over to face her, blinking open his tired eyes to try and focus on her, “You okay?” he asked groggily, reaching a hand to her arm.

“My water broke.” Florence whispered.

Daniel’s still half-asleep face took a second to register what she said before his mouth was falling open. He looked down to her lap that was still covered by the duvet.

“Ok. That’s okay.” Daniel jumped out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to her bedside in only his underwear, tugging on a pair of pyjama pants in the process. “Are you hurting?”

“A little.” Florence frowned. “She’s 3 weeks early, Dani. We did everything right I don’t know why-“

“Hey.” Daniel took her face in his hands. “It’s okay. Remember the doctor said 37 weeks is fine. That we should expect early because of last time. 37 is good.”

Florence nodded.

“I’ll call the midwife?” Daniel offered.

“We need these sheets changed first.” Florence frowned.

“Of course. Do you want me to take you to the living room?”

“I can go if you take care of this?”

“Okay.” Daniel tilted her chin up to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry.” Florence mumbled as he helped her to her feet.

“Nothing you need to apologize for, darling.” Daniel smiled, “You’re having our baby today.”

Once Florence made it to the living room, she sat herself down on the couch and called the midwife. It was barely 6:45 in the morning and by Florence’s reflection of her state, the midwife said she would come by for 8, telling her to time and note any contractions or important details.

As soon as they hung up, a sharp pain shot through her side and Florence gasped, clutching onto the back of the couch. Of course, it was just when the girls woke up, rushing out of their shared room and down the hall to the master bedroom like every morning. But they found it empty, bed striped and lights on...but empty.

Clementine and Penelope stopped in their tracks, smiles fading with confusion.

“Good morning, my girls.” Daniel greeted them sweetly as he walked back into the master bedroom from starting the laundry.

Smiles back on their faces, the two girls rushed him with hugs until he scooped them both up in his arms.

“Where’s Mummy?” Penelope asked quietly, her head resting on Daniel’s bare shoulder.

“In the living room. Let’s go say good morning.” he carried his two girls across the apartment. Florence was still on the couch and he set the girls down so they could greet her. The last morning of just the four of them.

Florence was forcing a smile through her steady pain, welcoming her daughters’ innocent smiles and excited hugs and kisses.

“Uncle Callum is going to spend the day with you, does that sound nice?” Florence asked as Penelope curled up on her lap. Clementine skipped off after Daniel to help him prepare breakfast a few feet away in the kitchen, shouting her agreement to that statement with excitement.

“What about you?” Penelope whined gently.

“Dad and I have to get ready to meet your baby sister. We think she’s going to be here soon.” Florence explained.

“Today?!” Clementine shrieked from her spot on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe.” Daniel smiled, petting her hair back from her face as she dropped two frozen waffles in the toaster.

“I want to meet baby sister.” Penelope whispered.

“Me too.” Florence smiled, pressing a kiss to her head.

When breakfast was ready, Daniel called the two girls to the kitchen table, setting two plates in front of them with glasses of apple juice. Florence stayed on the couch, another small contraction washing over her. She held tightly to the couch cushion to avoid making a scene in front of the girls, eyeing the clock on the wall that read 7:23.

Daniel finished cutting up the girls’ waffles before he joined Florence in the living room. He bent down in front of her and set his hands on her stomach.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” he whispered, glancing up at her with worry in his light eyes.

“Alright so far.” Florence breathed, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No. I’m okay. You eat.” Florence smiled.

“I’m too excited to eat.” Daniel admitted quietly, leaning up to kiss her as he stood up again. “Callum should be here any moment now.”

“Okay.” Florence sighed, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned down to kiss her once more before heading back to the girls.

“Daddy!” Clementine shrieked through a mouthful of waffle, “We can see your boobies while we eat!”

“Then don’t look.” Daniel teased, pressing his finger in her side to make her squeal with laughter.

“Yucky!” Penelope added, sliding off her chair and ran off towards the kitchen with her plate before he could grab her. Sure enough, he scooped her right off the floor, blowing a raspberry against her shoulder. Penelope squirmed in his arms, trying to push his head away from her through her laughter.

The knock at the door had Clementine running for the foyer, Penelope wiggling enough to have Daniel put her down to join her sister.

“You two get your bags and kiss Mommy goodbye.” Daniel instructed, steering them towards their room.

He opened the door for Callum and Aidan, gesturing them inside with a tired welcome.

“Gosh, Dan, pull up your pants. Do you always walk around like this?” Aidan tisked, eyeing his friend’s bare torso and Calvin’s band that was peeking out from under his plaid pyjama pants.

“No wonder my sister got knocked up again.” Callum teased.

“Oh, Callum George, stop it!” Florence called from the living room. The young men joined her, Callum greeting her with a kiss to her head.

“Uncle Cal!” Clementine called, running over to him and threw her arms around his leg, her tiny suitcase discarded in the middle of the room. Penelope stuck with Daniel, curling one arm around his leg shyly.

“Good morning, Clem.” Callum smiled, picking up his niece and sat her on his hip.

“Mommy’s having baby sister today!” Clementine said proudly.

“I know! That’s why you’re going to have a sleepover with us!” Callum explained.

“You excited, Nell?” Aidan asked the youngest, crouching down to her level.

“Yes.” she smiled shyly, her dark messy hair falling over her eyes.

“Shall we head out then?” Callum said. “Center Island won’t wait for us!”

“Center Island?!” Clementine shrieked, her mouth falling open excitedly, looking between him and her mother.

“Yeah! So lets say goodbye and get going!” Callum bent down so she could kiss her mother goodbye.

“Behave yourself, you.” Florence chuckled, kissing her daughter’s head.

“Come here, Penny.” Florence said to her youngest who slunk away from Daniel to climb up on the couch to hug her.

“Have fun with Cal and Aidan, okay?”

Penelope nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Call if you need anything or if anything happens.” Aidan said to Florence, bending down to hug her.

“I will.” Florence agreed.

They headed towards the door, Aidan taking the small pink suitcases in hand.

“Come on, bug.” Daniel said to Penelope, holding out his hand to lead her to the foyer.

“I want to stay with Mommy.” Penelope frowned.

“I’ll take good care of her for you, I promise.” Daniel said sweetly, “You get to go have fun with you sister while we do all the work. When you get back to Callum’s tonight hopefully you can see pictures of baby sister.”

“I want to see her now.” Penelope whimpered, setting her little hands on the baby bump.

“Me too, bug.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her head. “Soon though.”

“Callum and Aidan are going to make sure you have so much fun today.” Florence promised, petting back her daughter’s hair. “Maybe even buy you an ice cream.”

Penelope tried to hide her cheeky smile behind her hair.

“Come on, Nell!” Clementine shouted from the foyer.

“Kisses.” Daniel requested softly, puckering out his lips. His youngest giggled and kissed him once and offered one to Florence before sliding off the couch. She ran after her sister to get her shoes on.

With the girls out of the house, the moment the door closed, Florence let out a pained groan she had been holding in since she woke up.

“What can I get you?” Daniel asked softly, returning back to his place in front of her, running his fingers through her hair.

“Nothing.” Florence breathed, pushing herself up from the couch ungracefully. He helped her with a hand around her waist. “I’m just going to walk a bit before the midwife gets here.”

With her pacing the hallway, Daniel tidied up the master bedroom a little bit, singing quietly as he worked. His soft voice always calmed her and she let her eyes close as she took one slow step at a time down the hallway.

When the midwife arrived, she helped Daniel get the bed re-made and Florence to lay down again. She checked her out a little.

“Looks like you’re already 5cm. Seems like you’ve been in labour for a few hours now. I’m surprised it didn’t wake you.” she chuckled.

“Gosh...it hasn’t been that bad.” Florence said.

“That’s good then. Being able to get as much rest as you can is important. Contractions are steady?”

“Every 5 minutes.” Florence answered. “Short though.”

“That’s okay. Let’s see if you can sleep anymore.”

“I don’t think I can.” Florence admitted.

“Too excited?”

“Just a little.” Florence smiled.

Daniel came out of the walk-in closet in jeans and a white t-shirt with his hair brushed and face shaved. “How are we looking?” he asked.

“Halfway there.” The midwife said.

“Oh, that’s so good!” Daniel smiled.

Florence shifted in her place, whimpering slightly as another contraction came upon her. Daniel climbed next to her and took her hand in his. She leaned on his shoulder with her eyes shut tight, clinging onto his hand.

“They’re getting worse?” The midwife asked.

Florence nodded.

Daniel let his free hand press softly against her cheek and kissed her hair, resting his head on hers. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles over hers.

Florence wanted the calmest and most relaxing birth possible, opting for a home birth for optimal comfort over the unpleasant hospital. The midwife was familiar with home births and throughout the preparation had given good suggestions. Daniel purchased an entire store worth of unscented candles.

Labour was slow but definitely calm, Florence finally getting in the bathtub to try and lessen the growing pain. The bathroom was dimmed to candlelight as she rested with her eyes closed in the warm bath, Daniel sat on the floor against the counter with his guitar on his lap, playing away slowly. His soft voice filled the silent apartment, keeping his eyes on his labouring wife across from him. Her blonde hair was damp at the ends where the water reached, her fingers tightening their grip on the edge of the bathtub, the water sloshing slightly as she flinched in pain.

Daniel hated seeing her like that, small tears welling in his eyes as he kept his voice steady, plucking gently at the guitar strings.

“Dani.” Florence whispered into the air.

He was at her side in an instant, brushing her hair back from her face, his other hand resting over hers, “I’m here, sweetheart.”

Florence licked her lips slowly, her eyes still shut, “Hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby.” Daniel kissed her head. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I have some water?”

“Of course.” Daniel reached behind her to the half empty glass, switching hands to rest it against her lips. She took it from him, a shaking hand holding the glass as she sipped. She handed it back to him and he set it down before shifting so he was sitting on the tile floor, kissing her hand.

She fluttered her eyes open, smiling weakly at him, holding her hand against his cheek.

“I love you.” Florence sighed.

“I love you so much.” Daniel leaned in to press a kiss to her pouted lips.

“Can you help me out? I’m kind of chilly now.”

“Of course.” Daniel got up and helped her carefully stand up in the tub, taking her hands to steady her as she stepped onto the bathmat. He draped a towel around her and dried her off, helping her out of her wet bathing suit.

“Sorry, I just-“ Florence leaned forward, tightening her grip on his shoulders and let out a trembling groan.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, rubbing his hands over her back. “Breathe through it.”

She let out a steady exhale followed by a soft inhale. When the contraction passed, she stood back up, offering him a pout.

“Let’s get you dressed.” Daniel chuckled. He reached behind him to the counter, grabbing her a clean nursing bra, getting her in it gently. He left the towel draped around her waist, one arm taking hers and the other grabbing his guitar, helping her back to bed. The midwife gave her a second look over, timing the contractions at 2 minutes apart, lasting almost 30 seconds.

“We are moving things right along!” she said. “We’re between 7-8cm now. Doing just fine.”

“I could feel her moving down.” Florence said tiredly, offering a smile to the room.

“That’s good.” the midwife said, pressing her hands to her belly to check the baby’s position. “She’s a well behaved little one too.”

“What time is it, Dani?” Florence asked.

“Almost noon, sweetheart.” he replied, pulling a black tank-top from his dresser drawer as his t-shirt was damp from the bath water.

“Oh gosh.” Florence sighed, resting her head back against the pillow as he changed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“You’re doing great work, Florence.” the midwife said with an honest smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nauseous.” Florence admitted.

“That’s from the pain. Have some water and take nice deep breaths. We can try moving to a better position.”

The midwife helped her kneel on the floor, arms holding the side of the bed. Florence, already tired out, leaned her head against her arms on the mattress, groaning lightly with each steady breath.

Daniel sat behind her, rubbing slow circles over her lower back.

“We have a natural on our hands.” the midwife smiled at him.

“I know.” Florence chuckled breathlessly.

Daniel blushed at the form of flattery, massaging her back and her hips strongly, peppering little kisses over her shoulder.

“Ow-“ Florence scrunched her eyes closed as another contraction hit.

“You’re doing so well.” Daniel praised, his warm hands easing her pain the best he could.

“Fuck...” Florence gripped the bedsheets in her fist.

“Bad one?” Daniel asked. She nodded. “You’re so strong, baby. So amazing.”

She gasped out of her contraction, taking a second to catch her breath before speaking, “Why did we do this again?”

“We’re doing it right this time, remember?” Daniel reminded her gently, keeping his hands rubbing circles over her back. “Bringing another little girl into our life the right way. Together. Because you’re the love of my life...the strongest woman I know...the one and only person I trust to carry my child. Our third baby. Our missing piece.”

“Fuck, Daniel. You’re making me cry.” Florence chuckled through her forming tears.

“Gotta make up all the missed time somehow.” Daniel said, kissing her shoulder.

“Stop with your missed time.” Florence whispered tiredly. “We did everything in perfect time. Anything different and we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You’re right.” Daniel sighed, draping his arms around her waist to rest on her belly. He leaned his head against her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Florence chuckled, resting one hand over his.

Another contraction came quickly, having her resort back to her double fisted grip on the bedsheets, groaning into the mattress. Daniel kept his arms around her, swaying her hips gently as he hummed a soft tune against her skin. She had only a moment to breathe again when the contraction died down, her head resting on her arms in her small squat, breathing deeply. She let out a sob into her arms as another contraction washed over her, her body clenching painfully.

“They’re much closer now.” Daniel said aloud, putting soft pressure against her lower back and hips. He could feel the heat radiating off of her and he waved his hand by her face to try and cool her down. He didn’t see the midwife leave the room but she was soon handing him a cool, damp face cloth and he thanked her quietly before running it softly over Florence’s shoulders and neck.

“Deep breaths.” The midwife instructed, getting on the ground with them to check out the process of the baby. “Almost there.”

“Almost there.” Daniel repeated.  

“I want to lay down. My legs hurt.” Florence whispered, burying her face in the crook of her arm.

“Whatever is best for you, dear.” The midwife agreed, helping Daniel get her to her feet and back onto the bed. She checked the baby’s heartrate and position again, making a few notes before taking a step back to let Florence breathe. Daniel was curled up next to her, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead and cheeks, following the breathing techniques with her. Florence’s hand was holding the front of his shirt, her eyes scrunched closed and her grip tightening as she contracted again, letting out a small cry of pain.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” Daniel asked quietly.

Florence nodded quickly, biting down on her bottom lip.

He ran his thumb over her lip to make her release it, offering his free hand for her to cling onto instead as he chose a gentle song and sang quietly into the dimly lit room. His voice seemed to echo through the empty apartment, running his thumb over hers, keeping his damp eyes focussed on her face. The curtains were drawn, closing off the bright afternoon sun and leaving the room to candlelight and the single table lamp set up on the dresser for the midwife to work. The soothing scent of lavender wafted from the candle on the right-side night table, just enough to bring a sense of serenity and calmness to the room.

With each contraction, Florence kept her breathing steady, burying her face against Daniel’s chest with her hand gripping his shirt, her other held securely in his. He kept the cool cloth blotting her forehead and neck, the icy dampness relaxing her more, his soothing voice keeping her focussed on something other than the radiating pain. Every minute exactly, she was whimpering against his chest, pulling him close. Daniel’s voice quivered seeing her in such a state but he forced himself to stay strong for her. He had never been a part of the labour process and it absolutely broke his heart to see her like that.

One strong contraction in particular had her letting out a small shriek, flinching intensely in his arms, “Daniel.”

Daniel couldn’t hold back the small sob that fell from his pouted lips, wrapping his arms around her securely and pressed kisses to her head. “I’m here, baby. I got you.”

“Go right into that, Florence.” The midwife praised softly, rubbing her hand over her back, “You’re doing so well.”

“I’m so sorry.” Daniel whispered against Florence’s ear, his quiet tears falling onto her bare shoulder.

Florence shook her head as the contraction died out. “Don’t be sorry,” she breathed heavily, shifting to look at him, holding one hand to his cheek, “God, don’t cry, Dani. It’s all going to be worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.” The midwife smiled, settling on her other side. “Now I’m just going to check baby’s heartbeat.”

She pressed the wand of a small machine to Florence’s bare stomach, the staticky rhythm filling the room. Daniel smiled softly as Florence looked up to him.

“I love you.” Florence whispered, puckering out her lips.

“I love you.” Daniel chuckled, meeting her halfway for a single sweet kiss.

He helped her through another contraction. Her eyebrows were furrowed through it, raising Daniel’s concern a little bit.

When it finished, she shifted onto her back to look towards the midwife, “Can you check me again? I think she’s ready to come out.”

The midwife paused as she checked her dilation, “Well, my dear, you are very in tune with your body. You’re at 10cm. Let’s get this baby out.”

“Now?!” Daniel gasped, looking between the two women.

“Whenever she feels the urge to push, yes!” the midwife chuckled, starting to arrange her things.

“Which will probably be in like 30 seconds.” Florence added lightly.

“Where do I sit? What do you want me to do?!” Daniel asked quickly.

“Calm down, Dani.” Florence laughed as the midwife had her sit up a bit more.

“You can sit behind her if you’d like.” The midwife suggested. “If that’s comfortable for mama of course.”

“Yeah, that works.” Florence nodded, letting Daniel slide his leg behind her. He leaned against the pillows and the headboard as she rested back against his chest. The midwife hurried to set down an extra towel under her and got her legs bent open.

“Okay, with the next contraction, you know what to do. Listen to your body.” The midwife instructed quietly.

Florence took a soft breath, letting Daniel set his hands in hers, linking their fingers together. Sure enough, at the next contraction, she felt the natural urge to push, a feeling that was always so surreal to her. She took a trembling breath before pressing her chin to her chest and pushed. It was nothing she hadn’t done before but it was still a lot, listening to the midwife’s steady count to ten before she could have a second to catch her breath.

“Another count of ten, honey.” The midwife said.

“Oh God.” Florence whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly as she pushed again.

Daniel kept his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over hers, watching her concentration and determination with wide eyes.

“That’s good.” The midwife said. “Catch your breath.”

Florence rested her head back against Daniel’s chest, her breathing shallow. Daniel started another breathing exercise, soon getting her to join.

“You two make a good team.” The midwife smiled up at them.

Florence hummed tiredly in agreement before sitting herself up a little bit more and pushing again.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, freeing one hand to pull her hair back from her face before falling to her hip.

“Fuck, Penelope was so much smaller than this.” Florence groaned through another push, her nose scrunched up with the effort she was putting out.

“Just means you’re delivering a healthy, full term baby now.” The midwife said softly. “Keep those pushes coming. You’re doing great.”

Florence took a breath before pushing again, groaning into it with her chin to her chest. She squeezed Daniel’s hand in her own, her right hand on his thigh to hold herself steady. He reached over to grab the paper fan from the nightstand, using his free hand to fan her with it, the cool air making her sigh thankfully.

“Doing so good, sweetheart.” Daniel whispered, peppering kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Florence groaned into the air, her eyes screwed shut, squirming in her place, “Hurts so bad.”

“Keep your legs open, honey. It will make it easier.” The midwife said, trying to keep open the labouring mother’s trembling thighs. Florence hooked her ankles over Daniel’s to ground herself, pulling his arm around her middle as she breathed out of another contraction. The next came fast and she pushed right into it, whimpering loudly.

Daniel could feel her whole body trembling and all he could do was hold her, tucking one hand under her thigh to help keep her legs open, watching over her shoulder as the midwife helped her through it.

“Her head is coming soon. We’re almost at the end!” the midwife announced, letting Florence sit back to breathe after two more counts of ten.

“Dani.” Florence panted, blinking open her tired eyes to him as her head rested lazily against his shoulder.

“You’re absolutely incredible.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you.” Florence mumbled. She breathed out deeply before another contraction washed over her. The midwife instructed her to pant light and she did, resisting the urge to simply push with all her might.

“We’re crowning now.” The midwife told them. “Nice steady push now, honey.”

Florence held her breath and tucked her chin down again, offering her a nice slow push, groaning loudly as she did.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow-” Florence cried, clinging onto Daniel’s hand. Taking a deep breath before pushing again.

“That’s it.” Daniel breathed, rubbing his thumb in soft circles over her thigh. “Good job, baby.”

After one more lengthy count to ten, the head was born. Daniel let out a little gasp at the sight of the wet light hair that was poking out between her legs.

“Strong push now, Florence.” The midwife encouraged. “She’s almost here!”

Florence leaned back against Daniel, taking both hands in her own instead of just one, tightening her legs around his, and pushed as hard as she could. Her head rested on his shoulder, her laboured breaths and whimpers against his neck, hands trembling in his as she brought their final little girl into the world. Daniel kept his eyes between her legs, watching completely uncensored as the baby was delivered into the midwife’s hands. And with Florence’s heavy sigh of relief, Daniel let out a small sob, tears spilling down his cheeks as the baby at the foot of the bed let out her first cry.

“1:56pm. June 24th. A beautiful baby girl.” The midwife announced with a wide smile, wrapping her up in a blanket and placed her on Florence’s chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the newborn, her own tears trickling down her cheek.

Daniel was right with her, his cheek almost pressed against hers as he stared down at the new arrival wrapped in white. Her shrill cries were nothing but the most beautiful music to his ears and he cried tears of joy along with her.

“Hi, baby.” Florence whimpered happily. “Oh, Dani, look at her.” Florence turned her head a little to look at her beautiful mess of a husband beside her.

“She’s perfect.” Daniel cried, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. “I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

“I love you.” Florence smiled, moving one hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

They stayed there a few quick minutes before it was time to deliver the placenta. It was quick and easy and Florence was honestly too wrapped up in admiring the new little girl in her arms to really notice.

The midwife took the baby to be checked out, weighing her in at 7lbs 11oz and measuring her at 20inches long. She was nothing but perfect; her health was pristine, the delivery went without fault, and soon the baby was quiet and nursing, swaddled in a soft purple blanket in Florence’s arms. Daniel sat beside them, running his fingertips ever so softly over the baby’s thin hair, watching her eat quietly.

“She’s so soft.” he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“I know.” Florence smiled.

“She’s ours.” Daniel sighed happily.

“She is.” Florence whispered.

The midwife came back in after her things were packed up and she was ready to go, “One last thing before I leave, we need to fill out the birth certificate so I can mail it to the government.”

“Of course.” Florence smiled, pulling her blanket that was draped over her shoulders farther over her chest for decency as if the lady who walked in didn’t just deliver her child.

“Does this little girl have a name that you’ve decided on?” she asked kindly, sitting on the end of the bed with her pen and paper.

“Lucy.” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the baby, her tiny hand curling around his index finger. “Lucy Elizabeth Seavey.”

~~

“Aren’t you the prettiest little girl in the whole world.” Daniel cooed gently to the newborn who was laid on the changing pad at the end of the bed. She cried restlessly, tiny legs kicking as he fastened her diaper, her arms curled by her face. He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, “Well, out of those younger than 3. I can’t go picking favourites.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Florence chuckled tiredly, tucked into their freshly made bed in a new pair of pyjamas and the uncomfortable post-birth underwear the midwife gave her.

Daniel sent her a small wink before he was tugging off his shirt and gently lifting the baby to his chest. She curled against him, her loud cries softening as her head rested on his shoulder, sucking on her tiny fist. He walked slowly around the room, tossing his shirt in the laundry basket, throwing out the dirty diaper and put away the wipes and things. His steps were cautious, holding the newborn securely with one hand until he could rest at the window, rubbing soft circles over her back as they overlooked the busting city and the setting sun.

Of course, Daniel couldn’t help but sing quietly, offering the quiet room the lyrics to the Beatles song that was the newborn’s namesake. And, like both sisters before her, Lucy was asleep in mere moments by the heavenly voice that Daniel had been blessed with.

He sat himself in bed, making sure to keep the sleeping baby safely against his chest. Florence ran a gentle hand over the thin blonde hair that the newborn donned, before moving her fingertips to Daniel’s cheek, turning him to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You’re so good with her.” Florence whispered.

“All in the practice.” Daniel smiled, resting his hand out for her to hold. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired and sore. But happy.” Florence smiled softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “So happy.”

He returned it, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. He kept his one hand over the baby’s back as she slept against his chest, making sure he stayed perfectly still so she wouldn’t fall, staring down at her with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Look at her.” Daniel breathed. “We made her and now she’s real and I’m holding her and...”

“I know.” Florence giggled quietly, curling into his side a little.

“And she’s ours.”

“All ours.”

“Our littlest princess.”

Lucy stretched her tiny arms up through a sleepy yawn as if she was trying to drape them over his shoulders. She kept her cheek against his chest, breathing slowly with him.

“She looks so much like you.” Florence breathed, running the back of her index finger over the baby’s cheek.

“She looks more like you.” Daniel said. “All this light hair.”

“Her eyes and nose are all yours.” Florence whispered, gently tracing the curve of Lucy’s tiny nose.

When Daniel didn’t answer after a moment, Florence turned her head up to look at him. He was already looking at her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you for our beautiful family.” He mumbled.

Florence pulled him in for a kiss, “Thank you.”

[thompsborn]

“you’re the grizzled old mechanic i’m kinda scared of who’s been keeping my car running and you found out i’m living in my car and oh shit you offered me the couch at your place? and you made me breakfast? how do i even pay you back, can i work for you?” au

happy fathers day, here’s some irondad with his lil mechanic son becoming a lil family (and, because i wanted to, some parksborner, too)

—

“So, what happened this time?”

Harley puffs out a breath, arms crossed over his chest and shoulders bunching up to his ears in a half assed kind of shrug. “Honestly? Not sure. I checked under the hood last night and couldn’t see any issues, but I must have been tired or somethin’ ‘cause she barely made it here in one piece. Thank Christ you’re on call or I’d be totally fucked right now.”

Tony hums, leaning forward with slightly furrowed brows and squinted eyes, taking in the engine slowly and precisely to spot anything wrong. “Don’t need an oil change, right?”

Instinctively, Harley rolls his eyes—despite what Tony seems to think, he’s more than capable of fixing up his car and changing the oil himself. It’s more a money issue than a knowledge issue, and Tony, for whatever reason, never charges Harley when he brings his banged up Mustang to his shop after closing hours. So, it’s easier, really, on his wallet and on his physical health to just bring her in and have Tony fix her up. He doesn’t bring any of this up, though, because Tony... Tony is a quiet sort of man, doesn’t like the small talk or the chitter chatter. He’s brooding in the way only a man in his fifties can be, shoulders hunched with the weight of a long life, bags under his eyes and a healthy bit of salt and pepper to his hair. Harley tried making a sarcastic comment his second time he came in and Tony didn’t respond in the slightest, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence until Harley was good to go.

He’d rather have the stupid questions that he always responds with the same answers to than the silence from before.

“No oil change needed,” Harley replies. “Just changed it last week. That’s not the problem.”

Tony quirks a brow and looks at Harley over his shoulder, something unsure and almost condescending on his features. “Just checking,” he says. “Lots of people come here thinking their car is at ends meet, just to be in complete awe when I change their oil and it runs without a hitch.”

“I’m not gonna be one of those people,” Harley tells him. “I know enough to know that.”

“And yet you’re here, asking for my help with your shitmobile, nearly once a week.”

Harley shrugs again and looks away.

“Alright,” Tony murmurs, hands in the air in some sign of surrender. “I’ll take a look and fix her up in time for curfew, kid. No worries.”

Without thinking, Harley says, “I don’t have a curfew,” and only panics for a second before casually adding, “College,” after it in explanation. A false explanation, but—still.

Tony seems unbothered, turning back to look at the engine. “Fine. Then she’ll be ready in time for you to go home and get a full night’s rest before your classes tomorrow. Sound good?”

There are no classes, and there is no full night of rest—Harley will find a vacant lot in the shadow of a building where his car will blend in, and he will sleep in the backseat long enough to be able to function through a shift at work with only a minor crick in his back to deal with.

It’s routine, at this point—park, sleep, work. On a good day, make enough to splurge on a hot meal. Usually, just cheap, greasy fast food.

“Sure,” Harley says anyway. “Sounds good.”

-

Looking back on it, Harley’s not entirely sure how this happened.

Like—he knows how, he lived it, each and every agonizing moment of it, but, sometimes, when he reminisces on the timeline of events, it doesn’t really feel real. It doesn’t feel like something he really experienced.

It is, though. First, with his dad, leaving in broad daylight and never coming back. Harley, seven years old and—and so sad, wondering why daddy left, wondering if daddy ever loved him. Mama pet his hair when he cried and promised him that they didn’t need David Keener to be happy, but there was a lot less happiness in that house when he left. Darcy Keener started to look heavier and heavier with each passing day, until it seemed as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. As much as Harley tried to get his little sister to smile, Emilee, far too smart for someone so young, would only start to cry with anguish. She missed their father. Harley did, too.

Then, for a few years, slowly lifting themselves up, building a new foundation without David’s help, until it was stable enough for the three of them, until they weren’t really—happy, no, but—content, maybe. Something close to it.

Until Emilee got sick.

Harley got his first job to try and pay the hospital bills and buy the medicine she needed when they inevitably couldn’t afford to keep her in the hospital anymore. He got his second job while still working his first, dropped out of high school because his mother was too stressed to even notice when he stopped going, managed to start fixing up neighbor’s cars and broken lamps and mowing lawns during the little free time he had just to get that little bit of extra cash. He got the right foods that the doctors said Emilee’s body was capable of processing, he added his money to his mother’s stash set aside to buy her meds, he sat with her every night until she fell asleep before climbing out of his window to work the night shift at his second job. He did everything he possibly could.

He was seventeen when Emilee passed away in her sleep. Peaceful, the doctor’s assured them—she felt no pain, and now she’ll be able to rest. In Heaven, they assured, where she could be happy again.

Harley stopped believing in Heaven the day his dad abandoned them. He didn’t say that, though—just hugged his mother and let her sob into his shoulder.

Darcy lost herself, a little bit at first, and then entirely. She slept in and would be late for her shifts, drank more coffee than was healthy and then made it worse by adding liquor to it at seven in the morning. She looked at Harley with glazed over eyes and never seemed to hear the way he cried at night. One day, she didn’t come home from work, and Harley waited up for her all night, the panic slowly rising in his throat until it felt like he was choking on it, thinking that she might never come back. Thinking that Darcy and David might start to go hand in hand—but she did come home, dead on her feet and looking bruised. She went straight to her room and never responded when Harley asked where she went.

On his eighteenth birthday, Darcy didn’t remember. He bought himself some cupcakes and he sat on the floor of Emilee’s room and he drank the liquor he stole from his mother’s cabinet until he felt numb to it all. Slept like that, curled up atop the carpet, bottle curled up against his chest and arms hugging himself.

She drove to work one day, a little too far away from sober. They said her eyes were probably struggling to focus and her head might have been spinning and she didn’t realize the light was red until it was too late to stop.

He left the night that she died.

New York, of all places—and he still isn’t sure why he chose to run to the city, hours and hours away. The distance, maybe, to separate himself from his past and allow his chest to expand easier. Breathing, sometimes, feels like a task, or a chore. Too much work, but still he does it. Doesn’t have a choice, really.

The drive from Rose Hill to New York was made in his mother’s car, somehow not totaled despite the accident. There were stains that he didn’t want to look at, didn’t want to think about. The first thing he did was trade his piece of shit car for someone else’s piece of shit car just to get rid of the memories, just to free himself from the knowledge that he was driving the thing his mother died in.

That’s what he drives now, the crappy Oldsmobile that he traded with someone on Craigslist. It’s old, run down, in need of a lot of love, but he can’t afford a new car, so he does his best to take care of her. Names her Em, doesn’t think of why.

It’s her and him against the world, though. They have to make it out alive.

-

Someone slash’s his tires while he’s sleeping.

He doesn’t notice it when he first wakes up, just sits up, tries his best to stretch his limbs in the limited space, and reaches for his shitty pre-paid phone that he only bought so that his work can get in contact with him. There’s no missed calls, no unopened texts, and he’s not scheduled for today.

Climbing out of his car to properly shake out his sleep heavy limbs, he looks around the alley that he parked his car in last night—was too tired to drive to the lot he usually parks in at night. That’s his mistake, really, because the lot is vacant and hidden in the shadows and no one ever bothers him there. Alleyways, though, are often visited by other homeless people and the people who make drug deals in the dead of night and, occasionally, random, harmless kids just going on a walk, apparently used to and unafraid of the danger.

There’s no telling who slashes his tires or why the hell they did it, but it’s the first time he’s had to call Tony’s shop during working hours, in need of a tow truck, four new tires, and—well. Harley could do with a hug.

He won’t ask for that, though. It’s been a few years since he had one, anyway.

-

It takes five words for Harley to almost have a panic attack.

“This is pretty pricey, kid,” Tony tells him, arms crossed over his chest as he frowns at the Oldsmobile with furrowed brows. Harley thinks the air is immediately sucked out of his lungs because—well, of course it’s pricey. Of course he shouldn’t have assumed that Tony wouldn’t make him pay just because he’s let Harley get light work done for free before. Of course.

“Yeah,” Harley says, feelings a bit—breathless? He fumbles for his wallet, sinks his teeth into his lower lip so hard that he thinks he tastes copper. There’s a small stack of bills that he pulls out with unsteady fingers. “I, uh—I have—how much is it? I can—I mean, I can try to—or just, just leave, or—or—”

Tony holds out his hands, no longer looking at the car and instead trying to hold Harley’s gaze with his brows raised. “Calm down, kid. It’s fine.”

Harley shakes his head. “No, I—I can’t afford it, so I’ll just—“

“I’m not making you pay,” Tony interrupts, looking confused. “I haven’t made you pay yet, why would I start now? College discount, kid. Most college students can’t afford this shit, and you clearly need to have a working car. You’re fine.”

“But—”

Before Harley can try to argue this, the door leading from the office of the shop is pushed open and a—a teenager?—comes walking out, looking down at his phone with a frown. “Uh, Mr. Stark? I know I was supposed to be helping you out today, but Dr. Banner just texted me saying he was looking at my project and knocked something over and now the lab is—“ the guy squints at his phone, looks bewildered, “—engulfed in blue flames. His words. I think I gotta—“

Tony laughs—laughs, something that Harley hasn’t heard in the months he’s been coming to this shop—and waves his hand. “Go ahead, Pete.”

The guy—Pete—looks up with a sheepish smile, falters when he sees Harley, and only looks conflicted for a few seconds before he spins around and goes back into the office, emerging a few quick moments later with a bag slung over his shoulder and a pep in his step. “See you later, Mr. Stark!” he calls, before making his way out of the shop without looking back.

“He seems...” Harley trails off, effectively distracted from the clawing panic that had been climbing up his throat before. “Happy?”

“Yeah, usually is,” Tony says, sounding fond, lighter than Harley’s ever heard before. “He works with my husband, but he goes to ESU, which is closer to here than to the lab. Doesn’t have a car or anything, so he usually just hangs out here and gives me a hand after his classes until I can give him a ride. But, sometimes, shit happens and he has to take the subway instead.” He turns back to the car, already on the jack and raised up enough to deal with the tires, no longer seems inclined to talk about price or anything as he gets to work on the front driver’s side tire. Instead, he asks, “What school do you go to?”

Harley falters. “Uh, what?”

Tony glances over at him, quirking a brow. “School, kid. Which one?”

“Right. I, uh—“ Harley stops, tries to wrack his brain for a quick, easy answer. After a moment that’s definitely too long, he replies with, “NYU.”

Tony frowns at him. “Really?”

Harley looks away, clears his throat. “Yeah. NYU.”

“Alright,” Tony murmurs, turning back to the tire. “Let’s say I believe you. I don’t, ‘cause that was the most obvious lying I’ve ever seen, but let’s say I do. What do you study? What classes are you taking right now?”

“Why do you care?” Harley fires back, a harsh bite in his tone.

Tony huffs a laugh. “You’re a kid, that’s why. Lying can’t mean anything good.”

“I’m nineteen,” Harley tells him. “Legally, an adult.”

“Still a teenager,” Tony says. “You gonna try to answer the questions, or are you gonna tell me the truth?”

Harley clenches his jaw, grinds his teeth. “It’s not your business.”

Tony falters, hands pressed against the tire that he’s already gotten off. Eventually, he turns around. “Alright,” he says. “Not my business. That’s fine. How about we talk cost instead, hm? Tires aren’t cheap, kiddo.”

And that panic from before comes crawling back, sneaking its way up Harley’s spine as he tightens his fingers around the bills still clutched in his hand. He holds it out and pretends he isn’t visibly shaking. “This is all I have.”

“I’m not taking your money,” Tony tells him.

Harley thinks there are tears burning the backs of his eyes. “Then why the fuck did you bring up cost? Just, take it, and I’ll—I’ll head out, and—“

“I have a feeling,” Tony cuts in, “that, whatever it is you’re lying about, it’s not safe. I have a feeling that you’re not safe. Am I right to assume that?”

Harley blinks at him, wide and misty in the eyes.

Tony hums. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, let’s sit down and chat.”

-

There are walls that you build up—a foundation of bricks placed at seven years old when you’re abandoned by a father you thought loved you. Walls that become higher, more reinforced, as years upon years of shit goes by. Harley has a fortress built around him, to keep people out, to keep himself in.

It takes thirty seven minutes for Tony to carefully pick at those walls until they crumble, and it leaves Harley sobbing in a way that he hasn’t let himself do since Emilee died, heaving for breaths that ache and burn his lungs and make his head spin, tears pooling in his eyes and streaming down his face in rivers. Tony looks heartbroken as Harley chokes it all out, tells him everything, admits that he’s been sleeping in his car for over a year now and has nobody left.

Pulls him into a hug, a soft and warm kind that Harley would never assume the brooding mechanic was capable of, and tells him, “It’s gonna be fine, kid,” and brushes callused fingers through Harley’s hair like his mama used to do. When he’s done and exhausted, Tony offers him a place to stay for the night, and Harley is too emotionally drained to refuse, allows himself to be guided to Tony’s car and given a ride to a house that’s only five minutes from the shop.

Dr. Banner—Bruce, apparently—doesn’t seem all that surprised when he gets home, just smiles kindly at Harley and puts on a movie while Tony makes something to eat. When Harley, with his knees curled to his chest and a blanket draped over his shoulders, hoarsely asks why they’re being so nice to him, Bruce softly tells him, “Tony and I had pretty rough childhoods, too. When we see kids that need support, or a home, or even just a hot meal, we do what we can to help. Did it for Peter, and now he’s top of his class at ESU and on track to graduate early. Helped out Harry, too, and that kid is gonna change the world.”

Harley is still confused.

“Sometimes,” Bruce goes on, “all you need is someone to tell you that you’re gonna make it to the other side. That’s what we try to do.”

He eats—more than he’s had to eat in a long, long time. Sleeps on the couch because he refuses to take their guest room, and he has breakfast with them, too. When he goes to leave, though, Tony frowns. “Where are you gonna go?”

“Back to my car, I guess,” Harley says, shrugging.

“That isn’t safe,” Tony says.

Harley shrugs again. “I don’t really have a choice.”

Bruce looks at Tony, at Harley, and tells him, “We have the space. If you need somewhere to stay until you can get your own place, you can stay here.”

He says no. Of course he says no, but when he starts to leave again, he remembers that his car is still in the shop, remembers that his phone is dead and he was supposed to work today and his boss told him that if he was late again then he would be fired. Remembers that he got a hug for the first time in years last night and it made him feel safe in a way he can’t ever remember feeling before, and he turns on his heel with his jaw clenched and his head held high, makes his way back to the kitchen and says, “I have one condition.”

-

On Harley’s second day working at the shop with Tony, the door opens and two guys walks in, in the middle of a conversation that seems energetic and lively. One of them, Harley recognizes at Peter, the guy from before. The other, he doesn’t know. They both stop when they see him, exchange quick glances before making their way over. “Hi,” Peter says.

Harley has motor oil up to his elbows and smeared on his cheek and he doesn’t think he looks very presentable for meeting someone new, but he was raised to be polite. “Hi,” he replies, using a rag to try and wipe the oil from his skin.

“I’m Peter. This—” he gestures to the other guy, “—is Harry. You’re Harley, right?” At Harley’s slow blink, Peter assures, “Dr. Banner mentioned you yesterday, and I remember seeing you, last week, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Harley says. “I’m Harley. Harley Keener.”

Peter grins, and Harry shifts a bit awkwardly from foot to foot but still manages a friendly sort of smile. “Cool,” Peter says. “Do you need any help?”

Harley looks down at the engine he’s been fixing up, knows that he doesn’t need help, no, but probably wouldn’t mind the company since Tony had to take a call and ran off to run an errand right after. “Not really,” he says. “But, you can... sit down, or something, I guess? I’m almost done with this, anyway.”

Harry cocks his head slightly, looks at the engine for a moment and then at Harley again, before looking at Peter with a slightly bigger smile. “We can sit,” Harry says, taking Peter by the wrist and leading him over to the nearest bench.

Turning back to the engine, Harley tries not to notice the weird sort of silence that’s hovering over them. He’s not good at conversation starters, really, and he feels oddly nervous, like he wants to impress them. Can’t really place why.

“So,” Peter starts, breaking the little bought of nothing. “Where’re you from?”

It’s a simple question. It’s a loaded answer.

Harley stops and considers it for a moment.

“Tennessee,” he eventually responds. “But... I think I like it better here.”

When he looks, there’s somewhat knowing smiles pulling on both Peter’s and Harry’s lips, like they can see through his answer, read it for what it really is. He doesn’t mind, he realizes. His walls were already broken through, and he doesn’t want to go back to hiding himself behind the rubble that remains. Rather, he wants to use that rubble and build himself a bridge.

Maybe, that way, he can make it to the other side.

[fatbottombucky]

Bucky: Bed Sharing [x Reader]

Summary: After a mission yourself and Barnes stop off at a motel, only there’s one bed. Bed sharing trope/ friends to lovers trope

pairing: Bucky x male reader

word count: 1345

Warnings: Two boi’s sharing a bed

“We need to stop at a motel, Barnes,” you sigh tiredly at the assassin but receive nothing in response. “Did you hear what-”

“I heard,” Barnes responded gruffly, “I’m fine. We’ll be back at the compound in twelve hours if I keep driving.”

You let out a sigh, ready to just let him be. Only you know that even with the serum the bullet wound needs attending to, especially if he wants it to heal with no scarring. You shake your head, clicking your tongue against your cheek and pointing at the neon sign.

“Pull in. Now.”

You watch as he indicates despite being on a deserted highway, his eyes remain straight ahead but you know he’s pissed at you. Heck, you’re pissed at you. He parks the car the furthest away from the reception. You don’t exactly look like a couple of normal civilians; your stealth suits bloody and ripped, cuts and bruises litter your faces and the smell of gunpowder on you both.

Exiting the car, you walk to the boot and grab the duffle bag. You sigh as Barnes heads to the reception without you, walking inside and talking to the lady at the front desk- she doesn’t even look concerned at his appearance, which is a good thing. You lean against the car, duffle by your feet and arms crossed over your chest.

A whistle grabs your attention, you look up tiredly to see Barnes nodding his head to some stairs. You grab the bag and slowly follow behind him, he waits beside an unopened room.

“Bad news,” he starts as he unlocks the door to the room, “only one bed.”

You groan as the door clicks open, revealing the dull room with only one twin bed. A small tv is settled on a dusty stand, you drop the bag onto the only chair in the room and you don’t even have to open the bathroom to know it’s a state.

“You can take the bed,” Barnes sighs and rolls his shoulder, the wound obviously taking a toll on him.

Shaking your head and opening the door, “We’ll argue over the bed later. Let’s sort these damn wounds out first, huh?” You looked over your shoulder at him, stopping when you notice the hesitation from him and slight timidness. “You okay, Barnes?”

He doesn’t say anything and only stalks passed you into the bathroom. You grab the med kit and walk into the dimly lit bathroom, head tilting as Barnes sits on the bathtub, head cast down and watching his hands. You decide not to say anything because you’ve pieced it together. You’ve never seen Bucky in anything but a shirt, you’re not even sure Steve has seen him shirtless.

Instead, you decide to clean yourself up first. Unbuckling and unclipping various parts of the stealth suit, standing shirtless in front of the mirror. You’re able to see all the bruises and cuts, it’s not too bad but enough that you’ll sting tomorrow and the upcoming weeks, too.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter but don’t glance at him. “I shouldn’t have stormed that room- you wouldn’t be shot because of me,” you finally look at him and he meets your eyes.

He lets out a strained chuckle, “I’ve been chasing after Steve my entire life, trust me, this won’t be the last time I get shot for covering some idiots ass.”

You let slip a quiet chuckle and nod, still feeling guilty about it. Once you’re done you turn to Barnes with an awkward smile, “Need any help or-”

“The bullet is still in my shoulder,” he deadpans and you wince, “I’mma need you to pull it out of me, okay?” You give a little nod and walk over to him as he starts to pull off his own top.

You try not to stare but it’s hard. The scars that litter his body, small and big, all indications of his past. Bullet wounds that have healed but leave traces of their story, a huge gash crosses his right pec and you want to ask about it but stop yourself. You and Barnes aren’t… friends, colleagues sure, but you’ve never moved past that step.

The wound is still seeping blood, it looks worse than it is and the only reason Barnes needs that bullet out is because his body will heal over with it still embedded. You have no tools to help pull it out, so you quickly wash your hands and sterilise them before walking back over to him. Kneeling down beside him and waiting for him to give the go ahead.

He nods shortly, eyes trained on the tiles next to him and you suck in a breath before shoving your fingers into the wound. He grits his teeth, eyes squeezing shut and you try not to throw up over this. It’s a few seconds before you feel the hardness of the bullet, grabbing ahold of it before gently pulling it out.

“Fuck!” Barnes mutters, his shoulders un-tensing and dropping a little. His metal fist unclenches and he grabs the sink as a clutch, breathing heavily for a few moments.

During this moment you patch him up quickly, knowing his body will deal with it for him but you didn’t want blood getting everywhere- especially Barnes’ blood, like Steve’s it’s special.

You both walk out of the bathroom faced with the one bed, again. You shoot him a look, already knowing he wants to take it but doesn’t want to say. You’re adults. Two grown men. You work together, save the world together, and live together- albeit you have your own bedrooms usually.

“Let’s share it,” you say confidently and meet Barnes’ grey eyes, “It’s one night and you need to rest, I’m tired as fuck. It’ll be fine,” you shrug and walk around one side.

You watch as Barnes does the same and pulls the blanket back, he bites his bottom lip before sliding in and settling down. He takes up nearly half the twin bed, you push that thought aside as you quickly get in and chuckle at the feel of this shit bed.

“Kinda wish I took the floor,” Barnes jokes and you snort with laughter, shoulders bumping his as you do. “Seriously… why is this bed so- lumpy?”

You continue to laugh and then stop abruptly, “I don’t even want to know what has happened on this bed.”

Barnes shivers at the thought. You then settle into silence, you stare at the ceiling for a very long time. You glance to your left wondering if Barnes had fallen asleep or if he was up also.

“I used to put the couch pillows on the floor, Steve and I would sleep on them,” Bucky softly muttered out and you smiled at the image of a small Steve and young Bucky. “When his ma’ worked lates, we’d take him in. My sisters, I think, all loved him very much. Little Rose fancied him actually, but she was always scared- wonder what would have happened if…”

You let your mind wander to that. If Bucky never fell, Steve never froze. “You wouldn’t be in this cruddy motel room, so there’s that.” It was meant to be a whole you’d be somewhere better, probably.

“Wouldn’t have met you,” Bucky mutters and you feel his eyes on you, even in the darkness of the room. You don’t look back at him, too stunned to actually move or say anything. “Pros and cons to everything it seems,” you let slip a chuckle.

“Didn’t think I mattered that much,” you tilt your head and look at him, the curtains aren’t drawn, the moonlight casts a glow over his face. “Always thought I was just a workmate.”

It’s a few seconds of silence before speaks, “I’ve wanted to be… your friend for a while,” you raised an eyebrow at Bucky with a smirk, “shut up,” he mutters and looks away.

“Was gonna ask ya on a date but you just friendzoned me,” Bucky chokes on air and looks at you bewildered for a moment.

(I didn’t know how to end it basically. Hopefully, you all like this. - Rosalie)

[kyber-kisses]

Attacked ( Dean x Reader )

Summary: When Dean and the reader leave to go on a supply run things don’t go exactly as planned when a few unfriendly faces decide to show up...

Warnings: Violence ( just the normal spn level stuff)

A/N: I literally just had a dream about this and I woke up and realized it would make a perfect Drabble. I hope you guys like it! ( also I had to write this on mobile so I’m sorry if it looks a bit odd)

One of the very last things you ever expected to be doing on a Friday night was going on a supply run for the bunker. If there were no cases Friday nights were strictly reserved for movie nights. Yet here you were, sliding into the next to Dean, surrounded by what could only be a few dozen grocery bags.

“ so why did you drag me along with you to go get groceries?” You questioned, fiddling with the unopened can of Pringle’s you had just bought.

“ Because y/n it’s my job to make you miserable.” A light smirk crosses his face as he stuck the key into the ignition.

“Haha very funny. . . You know if you had just- I don’t know, not lost at Rock Paper Scissors we would both be back at the bunker right now watching spy movies.” You shrugged, popping a Pringle into your mouth before handing the can over to Dean.

“ How does paper beat rock? How?” He grumbled as the two of you rolled out of the parking lot.

Beyond the tree line the sun was sinking below the horizon, and the last rays of sunlight leaked through the trees, lining them with a border of gold. The sky was already darkening to the east as the first few stars peaked out. The windows were rolled down, letting in the scent of warm summer air.

From the view outside the window you shifted your eyes to look over at the green eyed driver. The street lights flickered across his features and you could see he had a relaxed smile resting on his face. How could you possibly tell Dean Winchester you had feelings for him? The two of you had known each other since you were sixteen. You didn’t want to ruin a friendship like that.

“ what are you looking at?” Dean questioned, shifting his eyes from the road to you, even if it only was for a second.

Shit. He caught you.

“ Oh, just the mass amount of crumbs you have all over your face.” You reached forward to fiddle with the volume.

“Wha-“ you watched as dean quickly reached for the rear view mirror, turning it towards his face.

“Y/n there’s nothing on my face.” He turned to look at you, a hint of annoyance on his features.

“Oh, then it must just have been your freckles.” You shrugged. A smile spread across your face as you heard Dean let out an exasperated gasp.

“You are a savage!”

“ oh but that’s why you love me.” You teased, tilting your head to look at the hunter. What you didn’t expect to see was a light red creeping up his cheeks. Was- was Dean Winchester blushing?

“ We should uh- probably stop and get gas before heading back.” You nodded. Dean peeked down at the gas gauge nodding in agreement.

“Probably wouldn’t hurt.”

The moment you pulled into the gas station you felt something was off. It was an old gas station, sitting on the corner of an empty intersection. You couldn’t see any other buildings near by except the station. You would be caught here dead if you were alone, but Dean was here and that was good enough. The two of you slid out of the impala.

“Here.” You looked over the roof of the impala to see Dean toss you his wallet. “ if you go pay, I’ll fill up.”

You threw a thumbs up before crossing the pavement and entering the convenience store. Knowing it would take a few minutes to fill up, you chose to walk down the isles of crappy junk food. Seeing a bag of gummy bears you snatched it up. They were one of Deans favorites, maybe you could pass it off as an I’m sorry gift for the joke you made in the car. As you turned to head back towards the register you ran right into someone.

“ I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you the-“ you fell short when the person turned around to reveal black eyes. You were caught so off guard you didn’t even have time to defend yourself before a fist came flying into your nose, knocking you back onto the tile floor. The punch was strong enough to jumble your senses and make you fall back into unconsciousness.

Dean leaned back against the side of the impala, breathing in the warm summer night air, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song playing out of the radio. His mind wandering back to y/n. Y/n with her big y/e/c eyes and crazy sense of humor, not to mention her give em hell attitude. Dean was never one to really speak his feelings, but he would admit ( at least in his head ) that he was completly and totally in love with you.

After another minute or two, Deans eyebrows knitted together. You still hadn’t come out yet. It should have only taken a minute. He turned to look across the parking lot, and at that same moment the windows of the conscience store shattered. Glass scattering across the pavement. That was all that was need to send Dean practically vaulting over the hood of the impala and into a sprint towards the doors. Before he could even reach his hand out for the door, he was slammed onto the ground by not one, but two very burley men who shared the same lifeless black eyes.

“Winchester.” One of the growled. Before Dean could reach for the blade tucked into his belt he was being dragged by the collar through the broken glass and into the store. His eyes frantically scanning for you to make sure you were okay. His heart dropped to his stomachs the moment the third demon rounded one of the isles.

There you were, being dragged across the linoleum tiles by your hair. You were clawing frantically at your attacker’s wrists. You already had a busted lip and your nose was bleeding heavily. Beyond that you had scatches across your arms and legs and the beginnings of a black eye were showing up.

You locked eyes with Dean and froze. For the first time in a long while Dean looked rightfully and properly scared, but why you didn’t understand. Dean wasn’t afraid of demons, he’ll he’d faced the devil himself. So why was he looking at you with such fear?

“ Well, looks like I finally caught me a Winchester, along with his precious little damsel.” The demon gripping your hair chuckled. “ Now if I time this right you’ll get to watch this precious little thing here die choking on her own blood, and then once that’s over I’ll slit your throat and go after sweet little Sammy. How does that sound?”

“You sure do a lot of talking.” You mumbled. You weren’t expecting to get a rule out of any of the demons but once the words left your mouth one of them left Deans side to take another swing at you as the one holding you yanked your hair again.

Dean took his chance and snapped his head back, slamming it into the face of the demon holding him down, who in turn stumbles backwards letting him go. Yanking the blade from his belt he rushed forward, plunging it into the chest of one holding you. In turn he swung his arm back burying it into the others neck. Before he could get to the final one black sample was crawling across the floor and seeping through one of the vents.

“Damn it!” He screamed, kicking a soda van across the floor.

“Dean, it’s fine. It’s gone.” You coughed, attempting to push yourself up from your spot on the floor. Your voice drawing Dean back.

“Y/n!” The hunter rushed forward,kneeling down in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“Ill live. I’ve been through worse.” You breathed. Dean reached up, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“ you scared the hell out of me.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He pulled back eyes scanning your face and assessing your injuries.

“Let’s get you back to the bunker so I can patch you up.” Hoisting you onto your feet you let out a yelp as you put weight onto your right ankle.

“I think I might have a sprained ankle as well.” You groaned, falling against Deans shoulder.

“ well I guess the only thing I can do is this.” Before you could question him Dean was sweeping you up into his arms, and carrying you out of the convenience store bridal style.

Maybe there was more than just meets the eye.

(A/n: this took awhile to write and I wasn’t sure how to end it but tell me if u guys want a part 2)

[kpopplayroom]

Secret Santa || CEO AU (S)

Jinyoung x reader

Word count: 2.k+

Merry Christmas everyone!

Work to home, work to home, this was your daily journey. You were a stockbroker for a major company, Park Enterprises. You were accepted straight out of university and you've been there for 5 years, and it paid off. You were near the top of the food chain, with your own employees.

Another Christmas had come. The gentle flickering of the Christmas lights on the one way glass of your office wall slightly illuminated your office.

"Merry Christmas" one of the interns knocked on the door

"Yes?" she held a bowl in her hand, every year your company held a secret Santa party, you hated it

The intern held out the bowl for you and you shuffled it around and pulled out a paper, you gave her a small smile as she left, closing the door behind her.

You shoved the paper in your bag and kept on working. You had financial reports to evaluate before next week. You pinched the bridge of your nose, the marketing team left on hell of a mess for you to clean up. You leaned back in your chair with a sigh.

It was almost 10 PM. You closed your laptop and picked up your handbag. You closed your office door, as you turned around you bumped into someone

"I'm so sorry" you gripped onto your bag to prevent the contents from spilling but a piece of paper fell out

Park Jinyoung

"That's ok miss" your eyes met his, you could feel your blood run hotter. The man in front of you was gorgeous

"Y/L/N, Y/F/N" he nodded his head before turning his back. Your eyes darted to the paper on the floor.

"What's your name?" You could her his footsteps pause for a moment

"Park Jinyoung" you picked up the paper and briskly left the 23rd floor. You got into your car and rested your head back on the seat.

Who the hell was this man? And why did you want him to take you on your desk?

You flung your bag on the passenger seat and drove home. You got into your apartment, flung you heels on the side and locked the door behind you.

You pulled off your jacket roughly and threw it on the couch, you dropped yourself onto the couch and took out your phone.

Park Jinyoung

You typed the man's name into Google. Your eyes scanned the search results.

Park Jinyoung

Park Jinyoung the heir to Park Enterprises recently took the position of CEO while his father kept the position of Chairman

You froze, when the hell did that happen? You rarely take vacation but you were on the hospital for a little while after getting your appendix removed.

You grabbed your laptop from the counter and went back to the couch. You still had unopened email, you grazed over them and one caught your attention, it was marked as urgent

NEW CEO

From the Chairman

Your groaned, you recieved this mail the day you went into surgery. How could you have missed this?

You froze, you were his secret Santa?

"You're got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell do I get a spoilt rich kid?" You placed your laptop down on the ground and laid down on the couch, there's no way you're figuring this out at 1AM.

You closed your eyes and slowly drifted off into sleep. The loud beeping of your phone jolted you awake.

You rolled off of the couch into the floor. You searched around for you phone and found it under the coffee table. You hit the snooze button grumbling to yourself

"I need coffee"

You strolled up to your office, the clicking of your heels were the only sound filling the air. It was 7:25, you got up at 5 and was always on time. You dropped your bag onto your desk and sat down, what were you going to get this man? When was this secret Santa party anyway?

You searched him up once more and tried to find something that could help you out and there it was right in front of you.

"Good morning" you slammed your laptop shut. Jinyoung leaned against the all, he wore a navy blue suit that accentuated his physique.

"G-Good Morning Mr. Park" he brought his cup of coffee to his lips and strolled into your office

He sat down in front of you and analyzed your office. You took out of cell phone to quickly place and order before getting back to him.

"So the secret Santa party is to tonight" you paused

"What? I thought I had time" he smirked

"Christmas is tomorrow, we work for half of the day and come back for the party at 7. I thought you would be the one in forming me about this" he leaned back in the chair

"Tell, what your position here" you furrowed your brows

"Head stockbroker"

"How long have you worked her for?"

"5 years" he nodded his head

"How would you feel if you ran marketing as well?" You frowned

"What about Anna?" He sighed

"That's not what I asked you"

"I'd take the job" he nodded

"Good. In the new year we'll talk more about it" he got up and left

"Holy shit, did I just get promoted? Wait!" You shot up from your chair and followed him

"Can I leave an hour earlier?" You stared at his eyes, you'd always known that you should keep eye contact but damn did you want to look about, his eyes felt like they were piercing you

"Go for it" you sighed in relief

When you we got home you were dead tired, 7 bags in hand as well as a cold brew. You got home at 4:45, you just wanted to sleep but you had no time. You needed to get ready and wrap the gift you got.

Somehow you were able to get to the office with 30 minutes to spare. The party was usually held on the top floor, this was where all gatherings were held.

You looked around the room a few people were there already, you greeted as many people as you could before you were approached by one man whom you'd been avoiding. One of the guys from HR was trying to take you out on a date and your weren't having.

"So to save time this year we're giving each other gifts through out the part not all at once" you nodded with a plastered smile in your face

"Here" he held out a small gift bag for you.

You cursed under your breath and took the bag, there were two tickets to a football game.

"Thanks" your eyes darted across the room to look for Jinyoung

"I was hoping we could go together" your eyes went back to him

"Y/N" you sighed

"Mr. Parks I was looking for you" you held his elbow softly pleading for him to help you

"Why don't we go to my office to discuss what we were talking a out earlier" you smiled and went with him without a word

You'd hardly ever been in the boss's office and it looked like it had been renovated the last time you were there.

"An admirer?" You scoffed as he sat on the edge of his desk

"I wish he wasn't" he chuckled

"Not your type" you made a gagging noise causing him to laugh again

"Who's the gift for?" He threw your head back in frustration

"Well it's for you" he frowned

"I didn't know I was involved" he took the bag from your hand

"I had no idea what to get you so I did some research and I saw that you had now watch on your hand. I called up an old friend and I was able to get you a vintage watch, it supposed to be worth a lot but I also got you a 50 year old wine-" he stood up and placed his hand on your mouth

"You're cute when you ramble on" your eyes widened

"It's an amazing gift, but you didn't need to spend so much" he took his hand off of your mouth

"You pay me pretty well" you shuffled from one foot to another and bit your lip

"How about we break open this wine? I have some bourbon for an extra pick me up"

You both were sat on the floor of his office, the door was locked, the bottle of wine had been discarded since you two finished it and you both were almost done with the bottle of bourbon.

You rested your head on his shoulder and giggle away at the stories he told from his years in university.

"You have really pretty eyes" he paused to look at you

"I love your lips" he ran a finger against your lips

There was not a word spoken between you two. You snaked his sem around your waist, pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against your neck.

His lips tailed up your neck to your jaw, he bit his lip before kissing you roughly. You he pushed your gently down onto the carpeted floor and climbed onto of you, his lips meting yours once again.

"What a hell of a Christmas" you chuckled

"What do should we go now?" He smiled mischievously

"Maybe I should give you a christmas present" his hands ran up and down your thighs. His fingers hooked onto your underwear and pulled them down.

He got off of you and nestled between your legs, his lips grazed over your inner thigh before meeting your pussy.

You arched your back at the feeling of his tongue. You gripped the carpet as soft means passed your lips

"Be as loud as you want princess, I'm sure everyone has already left" your breath caught in your throat as he begun to finger you

You shivered as he suddenly stopped, the sound of his belt buckle. You got onto your elbows and grabbed his shirt pulling him towards you, you pressed your lips against him and unbuttoned his shirt.

You groaned at the feeling of his solid chest. He wrapped your leggs around his waist. Your nails dug into his back as he stretched your walls.

Your back.met the carpet once again as his thrust became rougher. He tugged on your hair, pulling your head back, his mouth latched onto your neck.

It had been years since you'd let a man touch you. Your body was running on overdrive, you never wanted this to stop, his touch was addictive or maybe that was just the alcohol taking either way this was the best Christmas you've had in a long time.

You threw your arms around his torso and pulled him closer, you needed him closer. The sudden rush of cold air from the A/C made you shiver.

Your hand found his, your fingers were intertwined and he rested his forehead on yours. Your breathing quickened and you closed your eyes.

"Look at me" he growled

You opened your eyes, your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came, he groaned as your walls squeezed his cock.

His thrust slowed and pulled out. You leaned up, kissed him greedily and wrapped your hand around his cock; you pumped your hand quickly.

You felt warm liquid decorate your stomach. You let go of him and he dropped himself onto the floor and so did you.

You closed your eyes, you just had amazing drunk sex with your boss, what the fuck was your life?

You felt something soft touch your stomach, he was cleaning you up. You stared at him blankly, he dropped the tissue on his desk and laid next to you. You rolled over and rested your torso on his.You pressed your lips to his softly.

"So mister Park where do we go from here?" He shook his head with a smile

"Sober huh?" You giggled

"Very"

"I kind of like this" you rolled your eyes

"Kind of?" he laughed

"Maybe a lot. We can see where this goes but right now it doesn’t matter" he kissed your forehead

"Merry Christmas princess"

NYX

[imakemyownworld]

Sugar daddy Grayson

somebody somewhere requested this and i took the liberty to write about it. (:

warnings: smut. a lot of dirty things so if youre not into it scroll

“Babe, what do you think about this on that leather skirt for our dinner tomorrow?” I was showing Grayson Gucci sweater while he was sitting on a sofa in the middle of a store drinking Pellegrino water.

“Pretty” he took a sip.

“Gray!” I sighed “Youre not taking this seriously”

“Babe.” Grayson got up and stood in front of me “Babe. I seriously doubt my mom will care if you’re wearing 1000$ Gucci sweater or a 10$ H&M one. You look pretty in your Pjs.”

I rolled my eyes and regretted it immediately.

“Bell.” he cupped my chin and directed it to his face. “You know I hate when you do that.”

“I know. But you’re not getting the point.” I shrugged his hand off of me. “Im meeting your mom and sister for the first time. I want to leave a good impression and feel nice okay?”

Grayson was mommas boy and I knew what that meant. Nobody is ever good enough for him. So, naturally, I felt nervous to meet them.

“Okay. You’re right, Im sorry. How about you go pick some red wine for mom and we meet outside in a few?” he took the sweater out of my hand.

“No, Ill pay for this, you pick the wine.” I tried to take it away from him but he didn’t let me.

“You know that’s not in question. Go.” he said in his serious voice and I knew better but to argue. I went to a liqueur store and spent too much time deciding which wine to get so I bought three hoping at least one would be alright.

“Im waiting in the car. x” Grayson texted me and I hurried back to the car.

I knew he was waiting for me for a while because he was scrolling through his instagram with music blasting when I came back. He just smiled at me when I sat down and turned in the engine.

“Sorry. Didn’t know what to pick.”

“Thats okay. Im sure you picked something nice, you’re the wine expert at last.”

“Thats true,” I giggled “I am the wine expert.”

I was already in the house when Grayson came back from the car with three Gucci bags in his hands and casually left them in the middle of the room.

“Did you buy something for yourself too?” I asked pulling out a box.

“I did actually.” he came back to the living room and sat on a couch. “I also got you some stuff too.”

I opened the box and there was pink Gucci sweatshirt that I was eyeing for a while.

“Gray! What the fuck?” I looked at him and he was smirking at me leaned back to the sofa. I would notice how majestic he is at the most random moments.

“Go on.” he sad almost demandingly.

I open the other box and delicately remove the paper. I look at the white lace material and immediately know what it is.

“No. Gray, no. This dress is literally 6000$ why did you do this?” I don’t even want to pull it out of the box. He know how much I wanted this dress.

“Because I love you and I love seeing you happy and I also love when you wear these absurdly silly dresses that literally no one else would wear” he smiles.

“Stop it. Its a beautiful dress. But you know I hate when you do this. I could’ve bought the dress but it’s unreasonably expensive and I just couldn’t justify it.” I was sitting on a floor still next to unopened dress.

“I justify it by making you happy”

I look at him in silence for a moment and get up to kiss him.

“You’re stupid but thank you.” I kiss him on the lips.

In that moment we hear keys in a lock and realize Ethan is probably returning home.

“HI ETHAN” we both yell across the room.

“HI GUYS” he yells back at us entering in a living room. “Woah, you guys did some shopping?” he looks at the bags on the floor. “Anything for me?”

“Yeah I actually bought you that belt you’ve been wanting” Grayson says

“For real?” Ethan makes an exciting step towards the bags

“No you weirdo” Gray laughs

“I don’t know why I fell for that.” Ethan takes a bottle of water from the fridge and goes into his room.

I go and sit next to Grayson on a sofa.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.” I give him a kiss.

“Please get used to it. I want to give you everything and don’t ever want you to thank me. Im happy to do it” he cups my chin again and looks me in the eyes before kissing me again. I smile and put my hand on his jawline, slowly following its bones with my fingers. His jawline turns me on and he knows it which is why it turns him on too. He moves his hand from my cheek to my throat and gently squeezes it. We kiss faster and more passionately. He know how much I love that. If I let him go further this will lead to something more.

“Gray” I somehow separate our lips but quickly come back to them. Resting my lips on his, breathing heavily with him. He kisses me slowly once again and then we go back to faster pace from few seconds ago. His hands are on my ribs and waist, squeezing me and my hands are on his back. We are making out heavily for at least five minutes and I know hes already turned on.

“We should stop” I whisper  when he starts kissing my neck

“Why?” his deep voice vibrates on my neck and it makes me shiver.

“Ethan. And the rest of these boxes?” I try and make an excuse

“Its your sweater and another sweatshirt but I got myself a matching one. There. We dont need to open them now” he continues to kiss my neck and then stops “but we should change rooms.” he gets up and caughts me off guard when he picks me up.

“Gray!” I yell but whisper at the same time

“Shut up” he cuts me off. We are almost halfway in his room. He shuts the door with his leg and puts me on his bed, takes off my shirt leaving me in my bralette and sweatpants. He stop for a second and smiles at me.

“I love you like this. In sweatpants and lace.”

He puts himself beneath me, supporting himself with his muscular hands. I trace those muscles with my fingertips and pull him closer to kiss him. His lips are warm and soft. My hand is in his hair, my legs around him. Hes slowly grinding on me while we kiss eagerlessly. I pull my hand down his shirt feeling his torso and slowly graze his boxer lining. Gray stops kissing me and sights, his eyes closed. I love seeing him loose control so I continue to put my hand in his pants feeling him and slowly stroking. Grayson lowers himself and starts breathing to my neck which drives me insane so I let out a low moan, now putting my hand in his boxers and feeling the warmth and hardness in my palm.

His breathing becomes heavy as I stroke him. He starts letting out moans.

“Shh” I shush him and he immediately bites my throat and starts sucking.

I dont give up and start playing with his tip which I know makes him crazy. He sucks even harder.

“Gray, stop” I starts hurting and he stops

“Sorry, you’re torturing me”

I smile and he finally opens his eyes looking at me. He takes my hand out of his pants and puts it on my boob and then does the same with my other hand. Hes going down on me while having his hands on my hands, playing with my boobs.

I feel his breath down there and I am already out of it. He slowly starts rotating his tongue on my clit, sucking it and playing with it. I am now moaning and breathing very heavy. I put the sheets in my mouth.

“Say when to stop, I dont want you to come” he demands.

I nod slightly and let him continue but do t last much longer

“Stop” I whimper and he stops. He meets my eyes again and I suck his lips, tasting myself.

“You dirty girl” he looks at me devilishly and I smile removing his pants. He snaps my bralette open and suck on my nipple.

“I need you” I say

“What did you say?” he looks up at me

“I need you” I repeat

Grayson takes his p and teases my clit with it.

“You are so wet.”

Since its already so sensitive I lose control, bend my back and whimper loudly.

“Repeat it again please?” Grayson whispers in my ear still with his penis sliding down my entrance. I bite his ear.

“I. Fucking. Need. You.” I say through my teeth, my body lovering itself onto him. He loves it. He loves teasing me.

“You need to be good” he squeezes my neck and slides himself in me slowly, torturing me as much as he can. I put my head in his shoulders trying not to cry out. He is so big, I never get used to it. He lets go of my neck and gently removes hair from my face. My eyes are closed but I can feel him looking at me so I smile. He thirst himself deeper and covers my mouth. We both let out a small moan.

“Fuck” he says

I realize his hands must be tired my now so I pull him down and I put my legs around him, straddling him, again, slowly lowering myself onto him. He puts his hands on my boobs and we are looking at each other as I ride him slowly. We are starting ti sweat as we smile to each other. I close my eyes and let it take over me.  He is playing with my nipples and its driving me crazy. Im going faster and he joins me thrusting into me as I lower my self. Its almost painful, but too good to stop it. Our breathing is so quick and loud and I think Grayson thinks the same because he puts the sheet over us. Its now ten times hotter than it was.

“Fuck I wish I could scream” he says grabbing me and turning me to the side. I wimp as he suddenly pulls himself out of me. My body literally longing for him.

He lays behind be and hugs me tightly, pushing himself in. I spread my legs so I could take him.

“Fuck how are you so tight right now” he growls into my shoulder. I force myself down in him and whimper.

“Are you okay?” he asks

“Yes” I answer shortly and we start moving our bodies. I literally cant last any longer when he starts massaging my clit with his finger.

“Gray, gray” I whimper

“Shh” he shuts me up but it doesnt help so I pit the sheet in my mouth again. “Dont come yet”

I cant believe what hes saying because I am on the edge. I try to last as long as I can but my body is betraying me and I start shaking and moaning into the sheet. Gray does the same one second after, burying his face in my back. We stay still for a while, just taking breaths hastily. Gray covers us up with another blanket and we cuddle up even closer.

“Fuck” he whispers in my ear but I am still unable to respond so I just run my fingers through his hair and turn around to face him. Eyes closed. I kiss him barely.

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

The Parting Chapter Four

Description: The only certainty in life is death, and it seems to follow Park Jimin. All his life, the icy shadow of death has hung closely by his side, along with the shadow of…something else. Reapers exist to guide the souls of the living to the world beyond. But what happens when a particular Reaper tampers with the natural order and saves a mortal boy’s life? What will they do once their fates become inextricably linked?

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jimin x (f) OC

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Flower Shop Owner!Jimin, Reaper!OC, Non-Idol!AU, Cop!Yoongi, Supernatural!AU

Warnings: Death, swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Alright, it’s real emo hours since Epiphany dropped. I’m consistently amazed with their work. Anyway, I hope you guys are doing well. I’m a wee bit stressed, but it’s nothing major! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As always, I will respond to all asks received within a day of receiving them, so feel free and feel comfortable sending me anything! And please send feedback, criticism, comments or concerns my way so I can address them.

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Chapter One

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

Something felt very very wrong.

Namjoon continued chatting beside me in the patrol car, but my focus was missing, drifting elsewhere. Possibly deliberately, Namjoon had avoided mentioning the arrest for the duration of the drive. He seemed quite shaken about the issue back at the cafe, but he was careful to collect himself as soon as we were alone in the car. I wondered vaguely if he was being conscious of me, trying not to upset me. But then a new, more uncomfortable thought occurred to me; what if he wasn’t talking about it because he’d grown suspicious of me?

He parked the car and I exited quickly. Regret began filling me up. I had revealed too much needlessly. Yoongi had already gotten the information from Jimin by the time I’d told it to Namjoon. The only thing I hadn’t gotten the chance to mention was-

“Namjoon,” I said, leaning back inside the car to stare at him seriously.

He turned to give me a big smile. “Yeah?”

“As Jimin left the bar, one of the boys with him stood to leave. I didn’t see which one,” I said, meeting his eyes seriously as his smile fell.

His eyes went wide. “Wait-uh,” he started, then struggled with his seatbelt.

“No, it’s okay. You don't need to get out,” I said, shaking my head. He stilled and looked at me. “Just…just make sure you catch the right person, okay?”

He shook his head. “I will, but…,” he began, then sighed. “I’m sorry, but it’s gonna be a lot harder without your testimony.”

I inhaled long and slow. “I…Namjoon, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I desperately want to,” I said, searching his face. I wanted him to trust me. To believe me. His eyes were foggy with worry. “But it’s not as simple as that. There are things I simply cannot explain.”

He nodded. “I understand. And I won’t push you,” he said. “But…in the future, you might be the only thing that stands in the way of a criminal getting justice.”

My brows furrowed and I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “I see.”

He reached out and patted my hand as it rested on the dashboard, my body hovering halfway inside the car. “Don’t worry too much, okay?” he said, then smiled brightly. “Nothing you said today will be used. I’ll keep it to myself, okay?”

I nodded. “I’m trusting you.”

“I’m happy you are.”

Again, I nodded before pulling myself out of the car. I waved over my shoulder as Namjoon pulled off onto the road, quickly racing towards the police station. I sighed after him and turned towards the shop. The flowers in the front of the shop were beginning to droop slightly. They needed tending. With a quiet sigh, I pulled Jimin’s keyring from the big front pocket of my dress and, as I did, I noticed my empty hands. I groaned.

“Dammit,” I mumbled to myself, unlocking the door to the shop and propping it open so the place could get some fresh air. I’d left the bag of groceries at the cafe by the beach. Namjoon and I had left in such a hurry that I hadn’t thought to grab it.

I wandered around the shop, running my fingertips along the countertops atop which pots of flowers and various plant life sat comfortably. Beside each were hand-written price tags. I couldn’t help but smile at the way Jimin’s handwriting curved here and dipped there. It was animated and bright, like him. With a quick sigh I turned towards the workroom and walked inside. I walked to the back and grabbed for the old yellow watering can, filling it quickly in the large sink by the window. I glanced outside. The very same window where Jimin’s father had placed those delicate, wilting peonies four years ago. It was strange, even nostalgic staring at that space. I glanced towards the ground, my sneakered feet sitting right beside where his father had fallen. Unconsciously, I inched closer to the sink’s wide basin. The windowsill, now empty, now gathered dust. It remained unopened. I watched the world outside, winding streets, swaying trees vibrant with springtime life, children playing on the sidewalks, weaving all the way down to the beach.

And this window was closed to it all.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as the watering can overflowed into the sink.

I shook my head and grabbed its slippery handle, finding it quite heavier than I expected. I walked carefully back into the store and gingerly lifted the weighty can, dousing each plant along the walls with water. How Jimin managed to reach those high planter baskets overhead was beyond me. I stood cautiously on tiptoe to tilt the can towards a row of daisies on a chest-high shelf and slipped a little, water sloshing over the side and splashing onto the dusty floor. I righted myself quickly, but before I could give it another attempt I felt the weight of the can lift in my hands and, amazed, stared at it for a while before noticing an extra pair of hands on the handle.

I gasped and jumped backwards, colliding with the stranger behind me. Gracelessly, water spilled out from the top of the can and drenched my face, dripping down towards the dress.

The dress!

I slipped out from beneath the stranger’s arms and rushed to the workroom, grabbing for a clean towel. I dabbed the water from the collar of the dress and, thankfully, found that it hadn’t stained. Such a precious dress should not be damaged by the likes of me.

Slowly, I exited the workroom and found a tall, broad-shouldered man watering the plants which were too tall for me. I watched him from the doorway for a long moment, eyeing him. He seemed rather…odd. He hadn’t spoken a single word as long as he’d been in the shop, hadn’t greeted me, hadn’t even apologized for startling me.

I approached him and he turned only his eyes towards me. “Hello,” he said.

I blinked up at him. “Um…,” I began, then shook my head. “Hello. Who are you?”

He halted his watering and turned to face me properly. “I’m Kim Seokjin. I work here,” he said, then bent at the waist to look me in the eye. “And who are you?”

I swallowed something uncomfortable in my throat and glanced away, towards the daisies. “I’m…I’m Nari.”

“No last name?”

“I’m afraid not.”

He nodded and returned to the plants, gently guiding the water over them. “You’re the one who they found with Jimin, right?” he asked.

“Oh…yes, I suppose,” I said, following him closely as he continued watering diligently.

“Did Jimin give you the key? I’ve been trying to meet up with him for the past few days, but the hospital says you have to be on the list and the little shit didn’t put me on,” said Seokjin with a begrudging sigh.

I nodded. “I’m staying here for a while. I have-,”

“Amnesia, right?” he asked, turning to me. “It’s all over the paper.”

I raised my brows. “Really?”

He nodded and gave a light chuckle. “Small town.”

He turned to walk towards the flowers in the window, giving them an extra spraying of water. I kept close to his side, watching his every move. He rolled the sleeved of his pink shirt up to his elbows, passing the watering can from one hand to the other. He pushed his hair from his face and continued.

“You’re a good worker,” I observed, once again unable to stop myself from speaking. I needed to be more mindful about allowing my inner dialogue to become outer dialogue.

He glanced at me and raised his brows. “What makes you say that?” he asked. “I’m just trying to take care of things so he doesn’t have to.”

“That’s what I was doing too,” I said, then glanced towards the open door. “Is that why you came in?” I asked, pointing to it.

He followed my finger and nodded. “Yeah. I was walking by on the way back from my other job,” he said, then sighed. “I kinda freaked out when I heard about it all. Like…why would someone target him?”

I recalled something in my distant memory. A phone call Jimin had taken on the day of the incident. He’d called someone. Someone named Jin. “Jin…,” I repeated, thinking on it.

He turned to me with wide brown eyes. “Hey, that’s my nickname,” he said, shaking his head. “Only friends call me that.” He began watering again and, again, I kept close. He tossed his head this way and that. “I mean, I guess we can be friends if you want.”

I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms. Something was weird about it. I tried to remember the call. “So you work here?” I asked, trying to pry for information.

He nodded, turning from the plants on the walls and turning towards the ones in the center of the shop. “Yeah, part-time. I was supposed to work on the night he was stabbed, but he called and told me not to.”

That was it! Jimin had said something about being a target…

“Ah,” I said, summoning all my tact to attempt a subtle question. “Do you feel guilty, perhaps?”

He nodded. “Yeah, pretty bad,” he said with a sigh. “I told him to be careful since the weather was bad and he seemed like the killer’s type.”

“Is the killer that well-known here?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Like I said,” he said, turning to me with a half-smile. “Small town.”

“Ah.”

“Things like that don’t happen here. Nobody can figure out why now, of all times, this place is getting so scary,” he said with a shrug. “We’ve never had a serial killer before.”

I nodded. “I suppose it’s shocking.”

“It’s been hard on the whole community,” he said. “Lots of people are blaming the kids.”

“What kids?” I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“The local kids. Taehyung and his friends,” he said.

I glanced at him. He was very well-focused on his task, eyes trained on the leaves as they dipped under the pressure of the water. “Taehyung,” I said, nodding. That was the other one at the bar, wasn’t it?

“They’re just dumb kids. Doubt they’d do something like this,” he said, then looked at me with a laugh. “Not quite smart enough.”

I raised my brows. “Does someone have to be smart to be a killer?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not to be a killer,” he said, then paused to think over his words. “But to be a killer and not get caught.”

“Were you worried about Jimin?” I asked, peering at him.

He nodded, rubbing his forehead with a long exhale. “So worried. I felt like I should have done something more.”

“What could you have done, really?” I asked, thinking back. “He’s your boss.”

“I know,” he said. He set the watering can on the table beside a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips. “Still, I wish I’d come to work anyway.”

I nodded. Truthfully, I wished I’d done more myself. I wished I’d simply stopped the assailant before he could attack Jimin. I wished I’d been able to solve the problem cautiously, without risking myself. I wished I’d been able to spare Jimin from pain.

A low groan rumbled from my gut and I glanced down to it in shock. The area began contracting in light aches and my eyes went wide. Seokjin laughed and leaned back against the table. “Hungry?” he asked.

I stared at him. “Is that what it is?” I asked.

He laughed again and nodded. “Yeah. You should go eat something.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. Jimin has no food.”

Seokjin’s brows raised and he shook his head. “Oh, well let’s get you some groceries then!” he said.

I grabbed his arm as he turned towards the open door. “No, really. It’s okay. I don’t want you to waste your money.”

“My money?” he asked, furrowing his brows. “I’m not paying. I expect you to buy the ingredients, plus an hourly rate for my time.”

“H-Hourly rate?” I asked, feeling around in the pocket of the dress for the rest of the money Namjoon had given me. Not much.

Seokjin nodded and held his hand out to me palm up, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side. “I’ll accept the federal minimum wage.”

“Minimum wage…?”

He nodded again and shook his hand a little. “Mhm.”

We locked eyes for a long moment, his serious and mine panicked, before his expression broke and he laughed, shaking his head and turning on his heel. “I was teasing you.”

My heart which had begun to race settled and I followed him. Something in me was a little…upset? “That wasn’t very kind,” I said.

He turned over his shoulder and, smiling brightly, shrugged his shoulders. “I thought it was funny. You should’ve seen your face. All-,” he paused to offer a horrified expression before laughing again. “It was great.”

I crossed my arms but followed nonetheless, locking the front door behind me.

Seokjin focused keenly on the stove, watching the fish cook on a searing pan. I sat at the table, watching him just as keenly. “Why is Jimin letting you stay here?”

I kept my eyes trained on him and thought a moment. “Because he is kind.”

“Yeah,” said Seokjin with a laugh. “But there’s gotta be another reason for him to take in a stranger with amnesia, right?”

“I believe that would be a question better directed toward him,” I said, nodding.

But the more I thought about it, the stranger it was. From the years I’d been watching over him, Jimin had never been the naively kind type. He was thoughtful and compassionate, but never at the expense of his safety and good judgement. Like that night with Jungkook. He’d done the right thing telling him to stop smoking, but mostly for the sake of his own shop. Perhaps there was another reason I hadn’t realized yet…

I sighed, resting my cheek in my hand. “I got a text earlier,” said Seokjin. He peeked at me over his shoulder. “They arrested Jungkook.”

I stiffened. Had he read my thoughts? “I…yes.”

He nodded, poking the fish with his spatula. “Doesn’t seem right, does it?”

“Do you know him?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Of course,” he said. “Everyone knows everyone here. I watched Jungkook go from a quiet student failing math to a delinquent dropping out of school altogether.”

I laced my fingers and rested my chin atop them. “Was that what he was like?”

Seokjin nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But Jimin…somehow, Jimin seemed to be a good influence. When Jimin graduated high school was when Jungkook started to spiral.”

“They were good friends?” I asked, something uncomfortable nestling in my stomach. I rubbed it.

“More like a mentor-mentee relationship,” he said.

I exhaled slowly. In the hallway, I heard the distant tumbling sound of the washing machine at work. Another thing Seokjin had helped me with. Still, having him in the apartment felt strange. I wasn’t sure why, but he made me uneasy. Perhaps it was the way he seemed to see through me. I had many things to hide, after all.

“Jimin has lots of friends right?” I asked, more for my own peace of mind than anything.

Seokjin nodded. “Friends, acquaintances, loved ones…he has a few,” he said. “But none are all that close. That’s why it’s…kinda hard to hear that Jungkook was arrested. It would be hard for Jimin to accept if it’s true.”

Nobody close…

“Why is that, do you think?” I asked.

Seokjin shrugged, placing the fillets onto two plates atop freshly cooked rice. He approached and placed a plate in front of me, setting the other one in front of his seat as he sat down. “He’s lost a lot of people.”

I nodded. “Is that the reason?”

“I’d say so,” he said, then met my eyes as he stuffed a bite of fish in his open mouth. “Imagine loving someone deeply only for them to disappear?”

“Isn’t that…the nature of life? Transiency?” I asked, furrowing my brow. I’d never given it much thought before: the pain of grief on those left behind.

He chuckled. “That’s too simple,” he said, sipping some water.

“How do you mean?”

“People are really complex. We can’t just experience devastation and think: huh, yeah that’s just life I guess! Ho hum,” he said with a laugh. “It’s easy to say it when you haven’t felt it before.”

I nodded. “I didn’t realize it was that complicated,” I said.

He smiled. “I’m glad I could teach you,” he said, returning to his food.

But I began to worry. Jimin was much more isolated than I thought he was. He was sadder than I thought too. Smiling brightly…the longer I lived among humans the more I realized the artifice of it. How many people did Jimin have, really? How many people cared for him? How many people did he care for?

“Family,” I said, rubbing my neck as my fish began growing cold. “Does family make the pain easier?” I asked.

Seokjin nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Having a family means having a place.”

A place…

Jimin’s place…I’d always thought it was this shop, this apartment. But perhaps it was more difficult than that. Perhaps he had no place. “It’s good that Jimin has Injung,” I commented.

Seokjin met my eyes and scanned them. “His uncle…?”

I nodded. “Yes. It’s good at least that he has someone.”

He smiled. “It’s better that he has someone worrying about him as much as you do,” he said. “Family doesn’t always have to be blood. Sometimes, it’s forged. We can make our own family.”

“Make our family…?”

He nodded and pushed my plate towards me. “I wonder why he’s letting you stay here,” he repeated with a small smile. “Eat up or you’ll get skinnier.”

Seokjin left after cleaning up the kitchen and hanging my laundry up to dry on a rack in the living room. Night fell and so did I against the plush bed. As I fell asleep, Miso curled up beside my nose, her whiskers tickling my cheeks. I opened my eyes and stared at her for a moment. The room was navy blue, nearly black, but her eyes were shining bright in the shafts of moonlight that stretched through the window. She stared at me, her pink nose twitching as she began to rest.

I reached out and smoothed my fingers against her small head, petting her lightly. “Miso,” I said, to which she shut her eyes and began purring. “Thank you for looking after him.”

She continued purring, leaning into my hand. I’d always found it strange that Jimin would assume responsibility for a cat when he was struggling to care for himself, but after speaking with Seokjin…I felt understanding beginning to take root in my mind. I’d never realized how important companionship can be when loneliness hits. Seokjin was right. Jimin had lost a lot of people in his life. Perhaps because the full scope of grief was becoming clearer to me, or perhaps because I was tired, but I felt a stinging in my eyes before a few stray tears wetted my cheeks. I continued petting her soft head as she purred. I stroked her head until her purs turned to deep, long breaths. Inhales coming more slowly, exhales lasting longer.

And at some point, I fell asleep with scarce tears drying on my skin.

“Oh! A new dress,” remarked Jimin as I entered his hospital room.

Injung turned to me and smiled, in the process of packing Jimin’s clothes into a backpack carefully. I nodded at each of them with a soft smile. I’d cautiously rifled through the dresser in my bedroom that morning, having touched the freshly washed clothes only to find them still heavy with water. It would take a good while more for them to dry. Instead, I reached inside the drawers and found an old black pinafore, something reminiscent of older times, and a blouse that fit too loose. Jimin too had changed out of his uniform, replacing his pastel hospital pajamas with a comfortable pair of jeans I recognized and a shirt I was sure didn’t belong to him. Like me, it was too big for him.

“I brought a peach,” I said, reaching into the canvas bag I’d found on the coat rack and handing it to him.

Jimin glanced down at the fruit and smiled. He turned it over in his hands and chuckled. “You get me lots of gifts,” he commented.

My cheeks flared. “Well…,” I began with a shrug. “Peaches are good for your cells. They have thiamin and-,”

“Thank you,” he interrupted with a laugh, taking a hearty bite. “Where’d you get it?”

I crossed my arms and thought. “Your employee came by while I was watering the plants. We went to the store together. Seems he is a fairly good cook,” I said.

“Jin?” he asked, brows raised. He thought a moment. “He didn’t say anything embarrassing, right?”

Injung laughed and clapped his nephew on the shoulder. “Are you nervous? Scared he told her you used to read those girly comics?”

“Injung!” shouted Jimin, quickly clamping his free hand over his uncle’s mouth. He glanced at me before smiling quietly and laughing a soft laugh. “He’s joking.”

I blinked between the both of them. “I don’t really see why that would embarrass you,” I said, then shrugged. “Seokjin only had good things to say about you.”

Jimin’s cheeks flushed and he removed himself from Injung’s side. He chuckled and ruffled his hair which had gone fluffy with the humidity. “That doesn’t sound right,” he said, then smiled my way. “Anyway, I’m glad you got a proper meal. Once I get home today I’ll make the place a bit nicer for you.”

I shook my head quickly and grabbed for his arm. “Absolutely not! You are still recovering. No strenuous activity,” I said.

He glanced down at the place where my fingers met the exposed skin of his arm before meeting my eyes with his wide ones. “Uh…,” he began, then laughed, eyes nearly disappearing. “You don’t need to be so worried about me. I’m pretty strong.”

Injung scoffed. “He’s only saying that because he wants you to think he’s cool,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Jimin whipped his head towards his uncle, but as he did I placed both hands on his cheeks and felt carefully. With furrowed brow, I focused on the sensation in my palms. Jimin turned back to me and a pinkish blush bloomed across his cheeks. His eyes scanned me from above, endless pools of deep brown. I focused my gaze on his skin, then sighed and pulled away, crossing my arms.

“But he doesn’t feel cool at all,” I said, shaking my head. “If anything, he’s a little warm. Jimin, do you feel feverish?”

Jimin smiled and shook his head, a bashful warmth in his eyes as he quickly swept them away from me, glancing towards the wall with a breathy laugh. “No, I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

Injung looked as if he was struggling to contain laughter and nodded, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. “Come on, you dorks,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. “I already took care of the paperwork.”

We left the room together, but in the silence I watched Jimin become pensive. He seemed to have something on his mind and I could venture a guess about what it was. He wrung his hands and sighed slightly, eyes on the linoleum floor. I was certain his guilt was tearing him up. But as he caught me watching him, he simply offered a painfully bright smile and ruffled my hair slightly. And I could do nothing but smile in response and let him be alone with his complicated thoughts.

Jimin and I followed Injung down the hallway. As we approached the lobby, Doctor Jung and his son stood, lingering by the checkin desk. “Ah! You’re discharged today,” remarked Doctor Jung with a bright smile.

Hoseok glanced at the three of us and nodded, bowing his head slightly. “Thanks to you,” said Jimin, returning the smile.

Doctor Jung patted his shoulder. “You’re lucky to be alive, Jimin.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said. “I plan to live every day like a blessing.”

Something hot and bitter and unpleasant knotted in my chest. I knew what it was. Guilt. “Good, then,” said Doctor Jung. “I hope I’ll see you around, then.”

“Just…not as a patient,” added Hoseok with a soft smile Jimin’s way.

He laughed and nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

The three of us walked out into the street and began the walk towards Jimin’s apartment. The sky was an edgeless blue dome above us, dotted with clouds and a few jet streams. Living every day like a blessing… I wasn’t sure what that meant. But I knew that, walking beside him, staring up at the sky, feeling the breeze against my skin…I supposed it did feel like a blessing after all. I watched the sky for a few steps until my toe caught on the uneven sidewalk pavement and I lost my footing. I reached out and my hands clamped on both Jimin’s sleeve and Injung’s arm.

Jimin placed a hand on my back and, worriedly, scanned me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Jeez, you gotta look where you’re going.”

Injung chuckled. “Be careful. If you’re distracted it’s easier to get hurt,” he said, meeting my eyes.

I nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have watched my step,” I said, then sighed. “I was just…I guess I never realized how beautiful the sky was.”

Jimin watched me and a smile teased the edges of his lips. “Nari, were you always sentimental?”

I shook my head. “Oh no. This is…I think this is new,” I said with a nod. “I was just caught off guard I suppose.”

Jimin chuckled and removed his hand from my back, choosing instead to level his eyes with mine and smile gently. “I hope you find more things that catch you off guard.”

Oh no, what was that? A fluttering in my chest? Another heart palpitation? I stared at him for a long moment and as time passed his easy, confident smile morphed into a slightly awkward one, a few terse chuckles escaping him as he cleared his throat and continued walking down the way. The air was soft and warm and the breath entered and exited my lungs comfortably. We passed sun-bleached buildings the color of bone that had become familiar to me in the past days. Perched atop the cliff, overlooking the beach and the water and the endless expanse of ocean beyond I found the walk…

Pleasant.

“Who’s outside?” asked Injung, brows knitted as we approached the flower shop.

I hadn’t noticed before, but he was right to take note. A small crowd of people was congregating outside the greenhouse beside the shop. Here and there I caught plumes of smoke floating into the air. The last person I’d seen smoking was…

I turned to Jimin and raised my brows. “I think it’s-,” I started, then stopped and crossed my arms, glancing away.

Jimin stared down at me, confused for a moment. “Nari, do you know those guys?” he asked, pointing to the group of five who, upon closer inspection, resembled Jungkook not only in age but in blasé demeanor.

I shook my head. “No. I…I don’t know what I was saying,” I said, tossing my eyes seaward.

Injung watched me for a moment before sighing and patting Jimin on the chest as he began walking towards the group. “Don’t provoke them, alright? Let’s just call that cop.”

“Call Yoongi?” asked Jimin with wide eyes. He shook his head. “Definitely not. He told me he’d be busy once he arrested Jungkook-,”

“You don’t think they’re here to retaliate, do you?” asked Injung.

I raked my hands through my hair and, as we walked ever nearer the crowd noticed us at once and began to jeer. “Oh here he comes!” called one, singsongy.

I glanced at him, arms crossed, and scanned his face. Nothing remarkable. Just a young guy with a bandana tied around his bicep. We walked closer, but Injung edged away, seeming uncomfortable. “Poor Jimin,” shouted another. “How’s your chest, buddy?” he asked, taking a wide step forward and shoving Jimin’s chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Hey!” I shouted as Injung grabbed Jimin by the shoulders, helping him regain his footing. “Is this some sort of show of bravado? Retribution for one of your own?” I asked.

The one with the bandana around his arm gave me a look up and down before scoffing. “Alright, whose girl is this?” he asked the guys with a laugh. “Looking like The Grudge.” The boys behind him chuckled.

Save for one.

I noticed, taking up the edge of the small party was a face I recognized. Handsome, tan, with smart eyes and heavy brows. It was the boy from the other night. Taehyung. He and I exchanged a look and something passed between us that made me shudder. He had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes cast low, mouth clamped shut. It seemed he wasn’t participating.

“I think it would be best for you to leave immediately,” I said, taking a step towards the ringmaster. I raised my brows. “Unless your group wants more trouble with the law.”

He rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Oh come on,” he said, looking over my shoulder at Jimin. “Having a girl fight for you? You too scared to face us yourself?”

He moved to step towards him and I placed a hand on the stranger’s chest, lifting my eyes slowly to meet his. As I did, I caught a brief flash of something in his eyes and I watched goosebumps raise on his skin. “Leave,” I said, voice low.

The others chuckled behind him. “Hyungwon, looks like you’re getting pushed around by a girl too,” teased one of them.

I peeked around this boy, Hyungwon’s, chest and furrowed my brow at the rest. “What is it about my being a girl that bothers you all so much?” I asked.

They were silent for a moment before Taehyung chuckled and rubbed his forehead. “This is stupid. Let’s just go,” he mumbled.

Hyungwon turned to him and crossed his arms. “What’s stupid about defending Jungkook from this bullshit liar?”

Jimin approached my side as Taehyung and Hyungwon went back and forth bickering. “Stop, okay? Injung is gonna call the police,” he said carefully from beside me. “They’re not gonna leave until they’re forced to.”

I shook my head. “And what happens in the meantime? Just stall them and hope they don’t hurt you? I’m sorry, but I won’t let them affect your health.”

He sighed and gripped his nose bridge. “Jesus, why do you even care? What’s it matter if they hit me?”

I turned to face him seriously and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I care because you did nothing wrong. And furthermore, you’ve been through a trauma. You have a basic right to safety.”

He scoffed. “Can you just knock it off?” he asked, pulling his hair between his fingers and shaking his head. “They have every right to be upset. Jungkook didn’t do it. I’m certain.”

“Did you ever say he did?” I asked.

He sighed. “Doesn’t matter. The result is the same,” he said, then met my eyes with a heavy frustration I couldn’t recognize. “Now stop it,” he whispered, voice stern. But as he leaned away, with an exhale that shook slightly, he added in a mutter, “Haven’t you caused enough trouble for me already?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Simply silence. I blinked up at him as he took a few steps away from me, standing with arms crossed over his chest beside the entrance to the greenhouse. I glanced back down the sidewalk where Injung once was, and found it empty. He must have left to make the call to the police. I supposed that was the reasonable reaction. But I hadn’t been able to remain reasonable. Not when it came to Jimin.

But in the end, had my care become a burden?

My chest hurt.

Hyungwon turned back to us after conferring with Taehyung and pointed at Jimin. “You gonna come clean or what?”

Jimin nodded, bending to their intimidation. “I told the police that I was out with Jungkook the night I was attacked,” he conceded, eyes shut.

I watched him, unable to intervene, as Hyungwon approached and knotted his hand in Jimin’s baggy shirt. “Look at me when you’re talking,” he ordered, shaking Jimin slightly.

He opened his eyes and nodded. “I sold him out.”

Hyungwon’s eyes flared as he stared down at Jimin. “You’re admitting it that easily? Not even ashamed?” he asked.

Jimin’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not happy about it either.”

“He probably got strong-armed,” said Taehyung, sensible, from over Hyungwon’s shoulder. The other guys, still engrossed in the action, acknowledged Taehyhung’s words with various grunts. “You know that detective? Min Yoongi?”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes and spat at the ground beside Jimin’s feet. “Who cares? A rat’s still a rat.”

“I say we teach him a lesson,” said one idly from the sidelines.

Horrified, I looked towards the source of the voice but as my gaze swept across them, none of the boys would look at me. I inhaled sharply and bit hard on the inside of my cheek. I felt my toes digging into the bottoms of my shoes and as I uncrossed my arms I noticed reddish half-moons in my forearms from my nails pressing into them. I clenched my fists instead and set my jaw, watching Hyungwon carefully.

“An excellent suggestion,” he remarked with a laugh.

Jimin exhaled slowly and looked down to the ground. I’d never seen him so hopeless. Too much had happened to him recently, perhaps. The shock of it all might have finally gotten to him. But why was he so resigned? Why did it seem as if he felt he deserved the punishment?

Hyungwon poised his arm in the air, angling it down towards Jimin’s face. Anticipating the impact, Jimin squeezed his eyes shut and turned his cheek to the oncoming strike. A tight ball rose in my throat as if I may cry and I bit my lower lip. This was what Jimin wanted. He wanted me to stay out of it. He wanted me to watch passively as I always had. He wanted me to stop interfering.

But as the bandana around Hyungwon’s bicep strained against the coiling of his muscles, I really couldn’t help it any longer.

I hopped from foot to foot for a moment, begging my body not to do what I knew it was going to do. With a frustrated grunt, I sighed and ran towards where they stood beside the greenhouse and, without a single thought, pushed my way between them, wedging them apart. Hyungwon watched, shouting at me, as I shoved him back by the chest with all my might.

“Nari!” yelled Jimin, voice deep and sharp. I felt a fear creeping into my body. Would he scold me more?

Would he hate me…?

“What the fuck is up with your girl, Park?!” screamed Hyungwon, fighting against my hands on his chest.

But I was stubborn, forcing him back with everything I had. “If you’re gonna talk about me, then say it to me!” I shouted, giving his chest one last hard shove, sending him stumbling only slightly backwards.

He fumed down at me, eyes alight with rage, and took a deliberate step towards me. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“You’re not involved, Nari! Jesus, just go inside!” called Jimin from behind me.

I glanced back at him and saw something in his expression that sent a cold sadness through me. Disappointment. His brows were knitted, head tilted to the side, lips parted and arms limply laying at his sides. He shook his head as we locked eyes, and despite his clear discomfort, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

A vision suddenly flashed through my mind. Jimin’s face, contorted in such a way, an identical way to the one before me now. Disappointed, frustrated, upset…with me. Had I indeed seen this face of his before?

Hyungwon shoved me slightly out of the way, making a clear path towards Jimin. But before he could reach him, I grabbed onto his arm tightly, holding it close to my chest and leaning as hard as I could backwards.

“Can you please fuck off?!” he yelled down at me, shaking his arm.

I glared up at him. “You won’t hurt him,” I said. My voice was strong and steady and…frightening.

Again, something passed through his eyes. He continued pushing against my force, but as he remained relentless I began growing angry. The thought of Jimin hurt, Jimin in pain, Jimin attacked…it sent an icy shiver of rage through me. As Hyungwon shook me, I quickly clamped my teeth down on his upper arm, biting as hard as I could.

“Agh!” he screamed, stumbling away from me as I pulled away, the faint taste of blood on my tongue. Stunned, he turned to look at me, eyes wide.

“Hyungwon, just leave them alone,” said Taehyung, almost sounding bored.

I never broke eye contact with Hyungwon as he scoffed down at me. “You gotta death wish?” he yelled, fists clenched.

I nodded. “I won’t allow someone like you to hurt him,” I said.

At this he fumed, nostrils flaring. Without so much as a warning, he came down on me and struck me hard on the side of the head. Fist on bone, brain jostling, pain immediately radiating from my left temple. I lost my balance and with the force of the punch I was sent flying down towards the ground. I tumbled onto the concrete, my head colliding with the facade of the flower shop. I sat stunned for a painful moment, hands touching my head. My vision was blurry, spinning. I could hear only muffled shouting, arguing. The pain was horrible, but I’d felt far worse. The day I’d awoken…

Compared to that, anything was bearable.

But damn, it didn’t feel nice.

Soon, my vision returned and so did my hearing. Disoriented, I stood to my feet unsteadily and saw an unexpected scene unfolding on the sidewalk. Hyungwon, restrained by Taehyung who was shouting reprimands over his shoulder.

“Why the hell would you hit her?!” Taehyung yelled in Hyungwon’s ear.

Hyungwon, however, hadn’t had his fill of violence and was thrashing against Taehyung’s grip. “Nari!” Jimin called as he slid to his knees beside me. He took my cheeks in his hands, brows furrowed, and tilted my head side to side. “Are you okay? Oh my God, I’m calling the hospital. Oh my God-,”

I brushed his hands away and shakily stood to my feet. He joined, hands touching any part of me he could grab and examining it. I shook him away as I walked carefully towards Hyungwon who, still thrashing about, spat at me. Luckily, because of the restraint his saliva couldn’t reach me. He looked like a an animal in chains, ravenous and insatiable. I swallowed the iron-like taste of blood and wiped some more off my brow. He laughed down at me, still wildly moving around trying to escape.

I simply stood before him, locking my eyes on his. He met them, but the longer our gazes remained steady on one another, the stiller he became. First it was his hands, going limp. Then the arms. After a moment, he had stopped moving altogether. Jimin approached behind me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I couldn’t look at him. I stared at this boy, into the core of him, the angry, flaming, red, insecure center. I could see it all in his flashing eyes.

I felt my hair falling into my eye, sticking to the bleeding spots on my forehead. I couldn’t even bother moving it. “If you even think about touching him again,” I spat, voice low, leaning up towards his face, now only centimeters away, “I’ll kill you myself.”

I watched a shiver run from the bottom of his spine to the crown of his head. His dark eyes went wide as he realized there was no hyperbole in my words. I meant it. And he could feel it. Goosebumps on his skin, irises shaking, mouth ajar.

He was terrified.

I smiled.

“Oh Jesus! What happened?” called Injung from behind us.

I gave a final nod to the frightened boy and turned away. “Let’s go, Hyungwon,” said Taehyung quietly.

This time, Hyungwon didn’t fight. He didn’t do anything, really. Simply walked back with his friends and disappeared down an alleyway beside the greenhouse.

“Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how bad that could have been? God, not to mention you already have amnesia.”

“I know.”

“Do you even care that you were hurt?”

I blinked, sitting atop the counter in Jimin’s kitchen, sweet afternoon light streaming hazily through the window. Injung sat in the living room, ear pressed to his phone, still explaining the situation to Yoongi on the other side. Jimin insisted that Injung tell them not to come once things deescalated, but nonetheless Yoongi demanded that all information be relayed to him for record-keeping.

Jimin stood before me, standing between my knees with a wet rag pressed against my forehead. Peroxide, he had said. To disinfect the wound. I knew he kept it handy for the times when thorny plants gave his skin a knick. He exhaled, still staring over my shoulder into the apartment. He hadn’t looked me in the eye since we’d gotten upstairs.

I felt a strange hollowness in my stomach. Dread perhaps. I knew I’d done something to upset him, and the thought of him hating me was horribly uncomfortable. I preferred it when he didn’t even know I was there.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t especially care,” I said.

Finally, he met my eyes and what awaited me was pure disbelief. “How can you say you don’t care? We don’t even know each other and you’re acting like this,” he said, shaking his head with a sigh. He removed the rag and examined it. “Look at how much you’re bleeding…”

“But I do know you,” I insisted.

He sighed once more and turned toward the opposite counter, waving his hands. “Sure, sure. Whatever,” he said. He grabbed a few bandages from his first-aid kit and returned to his spot between my knees. Why did my heart flutter? “You’re so weird.”

He lifted his hand to my forehead, blowing gently against my skin. But I felt…frustrated. Hurt. How could he become so cold after I’d defended him? Was that fair? As he approached with the bandage, I swatted his hand away and hopped onto the floor. Shocks rain up my legs from the impact. I paused to give Jimin a glare.

“Sorry for trying to help you,” I said quietly, brushing him off as he followed me with the bandage.

He groaned. “Jesus, no! No, come back. I shouldn’t have acted like that,” he said, grabbing for my arm and shaking it slightly.

I turned to him and shook him off. “I’m fine. I’ve stopped bleeding so don’t waste your supplies on me.”

His expression fell and he tilted his head back, seemingly exhausted. “Why are you being so difficult?” he asked.

I scoffed and pulled my arm from his grasp. “Weird and difficult,” I said with a nod. Where was this frustration coming from? When had I ever been upset with Jimin? “I’m fine. I’m gonna go take a shower.” When had I learned to say things like ‘gonna’?

I walked briskly past Injung who, still locked in dialogue with Yoongi, paid me no attention. I heard Jimin exhale sharply with a humorless laugh as I exited the scene. As I shut the bathroom door behind me, I clutched my chest and struggled to control my breathing. I was so frustrated. And I was frustrated with the person I’d risked everything for.

Why did it feel so familiar?

I’d never noticed it before, but the ceiling in my bedroom resembled very fine popcorn. It also had a slight indentation, a sagging, in the corner beside the bed where it had been damaged by rainwater. I’d never noticed it before, but the ceiling in my bedroom was horribly, dreadfully, painfully boring. I sighed, arms and legs splayed out as I lie on my back like a starfish, beached on a drying rock. I couldn’t bring my eyes to close and, as time passed, the injury on my forehead was growing more and more painful. It was aching, dull but noticeable.

More than that, however, my brain was busy. As a Reaper, I’d been able to wander and think all night. But now, my human body was exhausted, longing to rest. My limbs felt heavy, sinking into the bed below me. My eyes kept slipping shut, but my brain simply would not keep quiet long enough for me to fall asleep. I’d heard humans complain about insomnia plenty of times, but experiencing it myself made me feel almost sympathetic towards them.

I sat upright and ran my fingers through my clean hair, releasing the scent of strawberries which, strangely, stimulated my appetite. Hadn’t I heard about something called a ‘midnight snack’? I glanced at the clock beside my bed and saw the sharp numbers bleeding into the inky darkness. 12:54 AM. Close enough, right?

I sat upright and pulled my soft shorts up. After I’d finished showering, Jimin had been missing. Injung told me he’d left to care for the shop, but I knew he was simply avoiding me. Had I always been so pessimistic? Nonetheless, when I’d returned to my bedroom I’d found a set of pajamas laid out, folded at the foot of the bed. They seemed to belong to his mother, as the dresser drawer was left slightly ajar.

I sighed as I felt the pajamas now. Why was he so inconsistent? Did he like me or find me burdensome? I shook my head. These thoughts had plagued me all night. There was no use in lingering on them. I padded quietly out into the living room and, silent as a mouse, crept behind the sofa on which Jimin slept. Miso slept comfortably atop his chest, curled up into a small crescent. I stepped into the kitchen and pried open the refrigerator door, mindful to keep the light from reaching Jimin by placing my body in between. I rifled through the shelves for a moment before grabbing a cup of strawberry yogurt with a sigh.

I turned around, shutting the refrigerator on my way, but gasped when I bumped into Jimin’s chest. I grabbed my nose and stared up at him with wide eyes. “What are you-,”

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

I blinked a few times before shaking my head and shuffling around him. “No,” I answered.

“Me either,” he said, mimicking my previous position in front of the refrigerator. He grabbed the same brand of yogurt, shutting the door and grabbing two spoons. He settled onto the counter. Wordlessly, he patted the spot beside him.

I glanced at him for a moment before, with a sigh, I joined him and grabbed the spoon he extended my way. “I’m…I am upset with you I think.”

He chuckled. “You’re very honest.”

“I don’t really know how to be anything else right now,” I said, letting my posture slump as I spooned bites of yogurt into my mouth. “I’m not used to anything yet.”

“I know,” he said softly. “Which is why I should apologize to you.”

I peered at him. “You should?”

He smiled and nodded, moonlight glowing silver in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I’ve got…a lot on my mind and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair,” he said.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears. What was this? Relief? “I thought you hated me,” I said quietly, rubbing at my dry eyes before the tears could fall.

He laughed lightly and gave my knee a squeeze. “Not at all,” he said. “I’m really sorry I made you think that.”

I nodded. “Good,” I said. “Live your life being sorry to me.”

He laughed again and nodded. “I will.”

I glanced at him, brows furrowed. “What would have happened if I didn’t step in? You would have been hit. Maybe you would have ruptured your stitches. Ended up back in the hospital, bleeding. You would have had to have another lengthy stay. More interviews with policemen. And for what? For…penance or something? Why would you-,”

He interrupted me with a laugh, placing his hand over my lips. “I know, okay?” he asked with a smile.

I felt my skin heat up and glanced away from him, nodding. “If you know, then that’s enough.” His hand fell back to his thigh.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It aches,” I said. “But it’s expected.”

He sighed. “I should have given you some ice.”

“I’m fine,” I said, then rested my head back against the cabinet, taking another hearty bite. “In exchange for hurting my feelings, tell me what’s on your mind.”

He laughed lightly, stirring his yogurt with a soft smile. “You’re kinda cute, you know?” he asked.

I stared at him before giving his leg a smack. “Tell me.”

He laughed again before shrugging. “Just…I had to put an old friend of mine in a difficult position,” he said.

“You mean telling Yoongi about Jungkook asking you out for drinks that night?” I asked.

He turned to me with wide eyes. “Huh? How did you know?”

I pursed my lips. “Namjoon told me yesterday, and Jin explained that you two used to be close,” I said with a nod. “I figured you were having a hard time.”

He scoffed. “I know you say you know me, but just how well do you know me?” he asked, laughing. “I just…I feel like I betrayed him.”

I shook my head. “Jimin, what else could you have done?”

“Yoongi already knew we went out together, but I kept saying I couldn’t remember anything,” he said with a sigh. “It’s true, but I did remember Jungkook asking me to go out. That much I really did remember the whole time.”

“You didn’t have a choice, did you?” I asked. “If Yoongi knew that much already, then all he needed was your testimony. I’m sure he pressured you quite a lot.”

Jimin nodded. “But in the end, I’m the one who sold him out,” he said. “And now he’s at the police station, probably getting grilled by Yoongi and Namjoon for a confession that he can’t give because it wasn’t him.” He raked his fingers through his hair, yogurt forgotten as he shook his head, brows knitted. “And it’s all because of me. I’d come after me too, if I was his gang.”

I turned to him quietly and watched his features as he gazed at the floor, expression contorted with guilt. “It must have been hard,” I said. “Holding onto this feeling all alone.”

He stared down at me, eyes round, skin glowing in the soft moonlight. He scanned my face for a moment and again my heart raced. “Nari you…really, why do you care about me this much? What did I do?”

I swallowed hard. “That is…a difficult question to answer,” I said with a nod. “I suppose…well, if you really need an answer it is probably…because I’ve seen in you something very…pure.”

“Pure?” he asked.

I nodded, thinking back to the first time I’d seen him, crouched over his father’s body. I remembered watching the life drain from his eyes as he watched the man collapse onto the ground in a heap, watched him convulse, watched him die. I remembered that horrible sorrow. That loneliness.

“Something pure…,” I repeated, recalling that loneliness in particular. That eternal isolation. “Something that…I could understand.”

“What do you mean?”

I glanced at him. “Alone and cold and frightened and terribly small in a world that’s terribly big,” I said with a nod. “I guess I’ve felt that for a long time. Longer than I even realized.”

He stared down at me as his gaze softened, brows lowering and eyes growing warmer. He inhaled slowly and nodded even more slowly. “I’m sorry I called you weird,” he said quietly. “You’re not weird at all. You’re just sincere, that’s all.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, taking another big bite of yogurt. “I accept your apology.”

“And…well, I guess…I hope that you don’t feel so alone anymore,” he said, taking a peek at me out the corner of his eye, the gesture almost shy. “I feel bad that the thing that ties us together is something that sad.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not sad really,” I said, then shrugged. “I think…seeing that you felt that way too made me feel less alone myself. It’s counterintuitive, but…”

He smiled gently and, his touch featherlight, guided a strand of dark hair behind my ear. “Having you around makes me feel less alone too.”

I met his eyes and smiled despite the jittery nervousness that seemed to occur whenever I looked at him too long. “I’m happy you have people like Injung and Seokjin in your life.”

He chuckled and hopped down from the counter, holding out his hand to help me down. I grabbed it, but as we stood he didn’t release it. I felt flush. “Yeah, me too. Except when Injung’s in my bed and I have to sleep on the couch.”

I blinked at our touching hands and clenched my free hand into a small ball. “Ah…that must be uncomfortable.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just teasing,” he said, smiling. Then he noticed where my eyes had fallen and he gasped a little. “Ah,” he said, loosening his grip on my hand so it fell to my side. “Sorry.”

“No, uh…it’s fine,” I said, smiling up at him. “I think I feel better now.”

He returned it and nodded. “Me too.”

“I’ll go to bed now then,” I said. “Goodnight, Jimin.”

He grinned and tossed the yogurt cups into the trash. He turned to face me fully and offered a soft, tender smile that bloomed, fresh in the dark night light. “Sweet dreams, Nari.”

Again, I felt flush and instead of staying to chat longer I simply bowed my head and hurried back into my bedroom. My heart, while much more at ease after reconciling with Jimin, was now racing in my chest. I shook my head and shut the door behind me, running my hands through my hair. How shameless this heart was. What was it that it wanted desperately enough to hammer this loudly in my ears?

“My…seems you’re adjusting just fine,” remarked a voice I recognized too well.

I sighed and turned towards my bed where Zero sat, legs crossed, tabbing through The Book under the dull glow of my bedside lamp. “Hello, Zero.”

“Hello, Nari.”

I cringed. “It is…strange for you to call me by that name.”

He glanced at me, deathly smile on his lips, and tilted his head to the side. “Oh, but isn’t it nice that you’re becoming comfortable enough to even adopt a human name? Isn’t that just…nice?”

I sighed and sat beside him. “I apologize. I simply…cannot do as you’ve asked.”

He nodded. “I understand, my dear. Entirely,” he said with an easy shrug. “This boy’s life is just too important.”

“Yes.”

“Much more important than the balance of the very universe itself,” he said with a smile my way. “I understand entirely.”

“Zero, please-,”

“Why is your beloved friend sleeping on the couch tonight? I wanted to get a proper look at him, but found a fully-grown adult in his bed,” he said with a laugh. “Gave me a fright.”

I sighed, gripping he bridge of my nose. As I did, I realized how silly and human that gesture was and returned my hand to my lap, clearing my throat. “That is his uncle.”

“Ah! He has an uncle. Marvelous,” he said, rolling his eyes. “As if this web wasn’t complicated enough.”

I stared at him. “Really, Zero. Can you be this apathetic? These are real, human lives.”

He smiled and nodded. “Precisely. Human lives, just like any other. If I allowed myself to become attached like you have well…,” he paused to laugh. “Well, you’re proof of how well that works out.”

I crossed my arms, frustration again taking hold. When had I ever been this brazen with Zero? “Why are you here, Zero? To tease me?”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “No, dear,” he said. “I just noticed something quite odd in The Book that may be relevant to our predicament.”

I glanced at him. “Odd?” I asked, suspicious. He’d proven himself to be quite impetuous since I’d arrived in this human body. I wondered if he was simply toying with me.

He nodded and opened The Book to a page somewhere towards the middle. “Let me quickly find it,” he said under his breath before smiling with a long, “Ah.”

I followed where he pointed and saw a clock running down at an alarming rate. Each second was doubled, two seconds lost for every one second lived. Realization struck me quickly and I turned to Zero with wide eyes. “This is…”

“The person whose time your friend is stealing,” he said with a nod. “Precisely. How clever of you to catch on so quickly.” He grinned and patted my head, however unlike when Jimin did it the feeling was condescending rather than comforting.

I sighed. “So then…this person’s life is being cut short.”

“Yes,” he said.

I scratched my head and watched the numbers fall. 59 years, 363 days, 24 seconds. A long life…

Cut in half.

I rubbed my forehead. “And nothing else is strange in The Book?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not a thing,” he said, then snapped. “Ah, unless you count the clock stuck at zero which…well, I suppose we have spoken about this at length already.” He laughed and flitted his hand.

I sighed. “What is it about this person then?” I asked. My eyes grew wide as I glanced to the side to read the name. Icy chills ran through my body as horror overcame me.

No.

Anyone but him.

Anyone but this person.

Beside the rapidly decreasing clock was the name Ahn Injung.

[annablack1102]

Before the Devil Part Two

Summary: While living in the prison, Miranda tries to navigate life with so many new faces and deal with her attraction to everyone’s favorite redneck hunter.

Characters: Daryl x OC Warnings: language, mentions of sex Beta: my very wonderful @sarcasticrose18 A/N: So this is a two part fic. I wrote it a few years ago back when I was all about Daryl and just found it buried in my docs. So I thought I’d edit it and post it for anyone interested in reading how Miranda and Daryl got together. I will not be continuing it, it’s just a prequel to Deal with the Devil.

Enjoy!

Masterlist  Part One

Before the Devil Part Two

Days later, five frustrating days later in fact, Miranda was sharpening her knife out in the sun. She’d been unable to get Daryl, or the talk with Maggie, off her mind. She went back and forth on the idea of just throwing herself out there. The worst thing he could do is say no, right? It’s not like she’d never been rejected before but this would be worse. Not only were picking pretty slim, but she’d still have to face him every day thanks to their close quarters. But the more she thought about it, the more she wanted him.

“Hey Miranda, I'm goin' on a run. You comin'?” Daryl asked, surprising the hell out of her as he tore her from her thoughts. She felt herself flush as she was caught thinking about him again.

“Uh...yeah?” She said, although it came out as more of a question. She hadn’t been expecting him to come to her this time but she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. He nodded and she went in to grab her bag, notifying Cathy on her way out. They took his bike this time and she tried not to be affected by being so close to him but she was pressed up against his back with her arms around his waist and her legs surrounding his hips. The vibrations from the motorcycle between her legs weren’t exactly helping matters.

They drove for awhile, long enough for her to calm down about the situation and just enjoy the ride. She'd always liked motorcycles but never had the chance to ride one. It was a little worrisome at first but once she got used to it she really enjoyed the freedom. He eventually pulled to a stop in front of a little convenience store that looked promising. It was in the middle of nowhere so hopefully it hadn't been raided too terribly.

They entered the place cautiously, after banging on the doors to stir anything inside. There was one walker but it was crushed under a shelf and couldn't move much. They killed it anyways. They roamed the mostly empty aisles, a little disappointed at the lack of product, and even checked under them. Some of the best stuff she'd found was things that had been dropped and rolled under. She snagged some chocolate off the floor before going behind the counter.

“Grab me some smokes if you find any.” Daryl called to her as he looked around for anything useful. She snagged a couple packs lying around but most of it had been cleaned out. She did find some aspirin and a couple boxes of condoms. She picked it up and was reminded of her earlier dilemma. “Find anything?” Daryl asked, leaning over the counter. She jumped and dropped the box.

“Uhm...yeah, here.” She said, blushing profusely as she handed him the packs she found. He snorted at the box of condoms she’d dropped.

“Guess Glenn'll appreciate these, huh?” He said and tossed them in her bag. She sighed and stood up. He lit a cigarette as they left and leaned against his bike to smoke it.

“Do you...” Miranda tried, she really did. But she chickened out. She couldn’t remember having such little confidence talking to a man she liked. It was embarrassing. “Nevermind.”

“What?” Daryl asked with a furrowed brow. She shook her head. “Just spit it out.” He snapped and she sighed.

“Do you ever...I don't know, miss it?” She asked, kicking the gravel beneath her feet. He quirked a brow at her, not following.“You know...having a need for a condom?” She explained, rolling her eyes. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Ain't got time for it these days.” He said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Maggie and Glenn find time.” She reminded him. He looked at her again, contemplating it.

“What? You missin' it?” He asked and she blushed. Thunder sounded above them and they looked up at the dark clouds rolling in, seemingly out of nowhere. The wind had picked up a bit too. “C'mon. Need to get home before that hits.” He said and flicked his cigarette on the ground. She hopped on the bike behind him and silently wished they'd taken a car.

They'd made it maybe half way back when the rain hit but he kept going. It wasn’t too bad at first but eventually it was pouring hard and fast enough for it to be dangerous. They went in search of shelter when they came across a house, buried back in the trees a bit. It looked a little old but not like it was going to fall from the weight of the rain and wind. He pulled up the drive and parked his bike on the side of the house, hiding it a bit in the trees so it wouldn't be seen from the road. They went inside and searched the house. It was empty, which was very lucky. They blocked the door with the couch and started searching for anything useful. Like dry clothes, that was Miranda’s priority for the moment. She found some things that would fit them and hung their wet clothes in the bathroom after they’d changed. Daryl had found a couple candles and had them lit downstairs by the time she came down.

“Anything to eat?” She asked, pulling her wet hair up. She hoped he wouldn't notice she'd left her bra upstairs. She had soaked through her clothes and whatever woman lived here before definitely wasn't the same size as her. A downside to having pretty small breasts.

“Some beans. Most the food is expired or stale.” He told her, something they'd been finding a lot of. Unless it were canned, it generally wasn't safe to eat anymore. Most boxed food had expired a while back. She sat down beside him on the loveseat, the only place to sit that wasn't up against the door. He opened a can and handed it to her before opening one for himself. They were quiet as they ate and Miranda wondered if she'd made him uncomfortable with their talk earlier. It was hard to tell because he was so quiet anyways but she was worried she’d ruined her chances of being invited out again.

“Wanna see if they have a deck of cards or something? Kill some time while we wait for the rain to let up.” She asked and he shrugged. She got up and searched the kitchen, finally coming across a deck in the mess of someone's old junk drawer. She found it funny that everyone had a drawer saved for random things that didn't have any where else to go. She sat on the floor by the coffee table and Daryl scooted down to do the same. She dealt the cards and they played a few hands but it got boring pretty fast. Daryl sighed and threw his cards down as she beat him again.

“Maybe they have monopoly?” She suggested with a sheepish look and he rolled his eyes. She got up and started looking around, just to give herself something to do. She searched all the cupboards, even grabbing a chair to check the one above the fridge. She found a bottle of whiskey sitting up there, unopened. She grinned and hopped down to show Daryl.

“Shit, hand it over.” He said, pulling himself up on the couch again. She sat beside him as he took the bottle. He opened it up and gave a good swig. “Don' drink too much. Just in case.” He said, his eyes darting to the door. She nodded, knowing they had to be careful out in the real world. If someone showed up or they needed to get out fast, they didn't want to be drunk. They each took a couple swigs, just enough to get a good buzz.

“Can't remember the last time I had anything to drink.” She said, setting the bottle on the table. He hummed and tilted his head back to rest on the couch.

“How old are you?” He asked, his face scrunching up as he realized he didn't know.

“Twenty-Eight, you?” He grimaced at her answer.

“Lot older than that.” She nudged his knee with her foot. “Forty-five.” He admitted reluctantly. She chuckled and got comfortable on the little sofa, letting her feet rest in his lap as she stretched out. He tensed for a moment but didn't make her move.

“So, what's the plan for sleeping? Think one of us should stay up an' keep watch?” She asked, her accent a bit thicker thanks to the alcohol and exhaustion. He chewed his lip as he considered it.

“Nuh, just put some of those empty cans on a string in front of the staircase. If anyone comes up, we'll hear 'em.” He said and shoved her feet off his lap so he could get to it. She gathered her things and took them upstairs. There were only three bedrooms; one was a nursery, one obviously belonged to a kid maybe Carl’s age, and then the parents’ room. She took her stuff to the master bedroom and made a mental note to search the nursery for anything Judith could use before they left. Finding baby stuff was hard these days thought they'd been very lucky so far. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “I could take the couch,” He offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder as he realized what their sleeping arrangements would be.

“It's fine. I don't mind sharing.” Miranda said without looking at him. She pulled her hair down, letting it fall in messy waves, as he walked in and laid on the bed with a sigh. She took off the sweat pants she'd been wearing and he raised an eyebrow at her. “I can't sleep in pants.” She shrugged as she crawled under the covers, trying not to flash him

Daryl cleared his throat and shifted as he tried to give her enough space on the bed so they wouldn't touch. She curled on her side, her back to him, and listened to the rain hitting the roof as she fell asleep after a while, thinking to herself how lucky they were that it wasn't leaking.

Hours later she woke up with a start after another nightmare. She sighed and clutched her pillow tightly. Wait, pillows aren't supposed to move. Her whole body tensed as the body beneath her groaned and shifted slightly. She felt arms circle her torso and pull her closer. She took a few slow deep breaths as she remembered where she was and realized whose arms she was in. Her body didn't relax but instead grew tense for a whole new reason. Instead of wanting to run in fear from the stirring body, she wanted to be closer and she knew that was a bad idea. She looked up just as Daryl was opening his eyes. She watched him blink in confusion for a moment before looking down at her.

“Hi,” Her voice sounded so small and soft from sleep. She was worried how he would react but despite his arms twitching in discomfort he didn't move either.

“Hi...” He grunted, his tone rough and low. Miranda considered again that maybe she should just go for it. Now would be the perfect time, considering they were all alone. But before she could even figure out a way to approach the topic, Daryl spoke again. “Should be gettin' up. Get an early start.” He said and she moved off of him instantly. She crawled out of bed first while he stretched his sore muscles. They each took turns getting dressed in their old clothes, thankfully dry after hanging all night. Then they gathered their things and, after stealing some clothes from the nursery, they headed back out on the road. The sky was blissfully clear again and the roads safe to travel, apart from the occasional branch strewn across the road. They made it back to the prison without any more trouble and she got off the bike as he parked it, noticing the thick tension. She paused, worried again that she'd fucked things up.

“Daryl?” She started and he turned from rummaging in his bags to look at her. “I'm sorry…’bout last night. Or this morning...which ever.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She hated the awkwardness of the situation. There was a time that she’d be able to handle shit like this gracefully, without feeling like a fool about it. Something about Daryl though...

“S'fine.” He muttered and pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Best sleep I've had in a while.” He admitted before walking away, leaving her behind with a dumbfounded look on her face.  

They kept up a routine like that for a while. One of them would get restless and they’d find some excuse to get out for a while. She knew the other members of the group were starting to gossip about them, thanks to her mother and her big mouth, but she didn’t care. She just enjoyed the time she got to spend with him and wormed her way a bit closer to him. They started to talk more as they went out frequently. They’d spend the drive discussing things from the old world or people from the one they lived in now. They avoided talking about Merle or the Governor or her dad for the most part to keep the mood light.

She still hadn’t been able to get him to tell her what he did back in the day and that was frustrating but she was determined. At least she got more than one guess a day.

“Uhhh.. you worked as a bartender.” Miranda guessed as he drove the truck down the road.

“Nope.” He said, chewing on the end of a piece of jerky.

“A cop?”

“Ya already guessed that one.” He reminded her.

“Oh right, sorry. Umm.. How ‘bout...a male prostitute?”

“What--ya serious?” Daryl huffed a laugh, a rarity for him. “That’s your guess?”

“Hey you never know. With those guns I bet people paid good--Holy shit! Pull over!” Miranda gasped as they passed a strip mall and he nearly swerved into a pole at the way she’d startled him.

“What the fuck? Why? There’s nothin’ here.” Daryl inquired, sounding annoyed. He pulled into the parking lot anyways to appease her.

“Nothing here? I beg to differ.” Miranda scoffed and pointed to a store at the end. He looked at her curiously but didn’t argue. For once she didn’t give him shit about parking directly in front of the glass doors. Instead she hopped out and went to investigate. She knocked on the doors, waiting a moment as he came up beside her. Eventually they decided it was empty and went inside. “This is not nothing.”

Miranda walked around in awe as she looked at the walls lined with guitars and a floor filled with pianos of different sorts. There was a layer of dust on everything but she didn't care. She reminded herself to be on alert, just in case, but her eyes stayed on the merchandise for the most part.

“D’ya play?” Daryl asked, glancing around the music store. She wasn’t sure if he was interested or just looking for exits.

“I play a little guitar but mostly piano.” Miranda said, her fingers running along the ivorys slowly. She glanced around, wondering if he’d let her take any of it. Sure she couldn’t exactly lift a full sized piano into the back of the truck but maybe a guitar and some books to refresh her memory.

Daryl followed her around silently, letting her have her moment. She walked around like a kid in a toy store, having to touch every intrustrument. Even the one in the locked case signed by someone she didn’t recognize. Eventually they made it towards the back of the store and found some soundproofed rooms, used for practice. They used to rent out rooms like this for band rehearsals. She grinned and headed into one that held a piano, Daryl at her feet.

Once the door was closed, she wasted no time in playing a song she knew off the top of her head. She closed her eyes for a moment as she played, wanting to cry the moment was so rewarding. She couldn’t remember the last time she played or sang anything. Daryl sat beside her quietly, listening to her play. She played a couple more old classical songs by composers he’d probably never even heard of. She couldn’t even remember their names. Eventually she played something she could sing along to, once she was comfortable enough.

Miranda sighed as she finished the song and let her fingers drop off the keys. They were both quiet for a while before she spoke again.

“I’ve been playing since I was six. For a long time it was the only thing that made me happy.” She told him, not expecting a response. “I used to get together with this group and sing at shows. Just bars and shit, nothing big. Didn’t make a lot of money and I had to bartend in between, but it made me happy.” She turned to look at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for stopping.”

Daryl gave her a nod, his eyes not leaving hers. It wasn’t normal for him to hold eye contact for so long but for some reason he couldn’t look away. Before either of them realized what was happening, they were leaning in. Their lips touched hesitantly, both afraid of rejection. But after a moment the kiss grew deeper, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. She scooted closer, her arms going around his shoulders to tug him in more. He allowed it for a minute before pulling back, ducking his head.

“We should..we should get back.” He said, chewing on his thumb nail. Miranda frowned but agreed, standing up to leave. She didn’t make it to the door though. After he stood up, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. He kissed her deeply, his hands in her hair as he backed her up against the wall. Miranda whimpered against his lips, her fists gripping his sleeveless shirt.

Daryl pulled back after a moment, pressing his forehead against hers, and his hands dropped to her hips. Miranda looked up at him curiously, noticing he was hesitant.

“We can take it slow.” Miranda offered, not wanting to lose her chance with him. Daryl chewed his lip before nodding. She kissed him again, softer this time, and took his hand. “Let’s get back. It’s getting late.” She said and he let her drag him out of there by the hand.

They were practically inseparable after that. They took things slow, like she promised, until he eventually brought her back to the music store and they had sex for the first time. She ended up moving into his bunk shortly after that.

Of course, as soon as she was finally happy again, shit hit the fan. The sickness hit the prison and even she herself ended up dangerously ill. She was lucky they found medicine to fight the strange infection but before she was even fully back to her old self, the prison was attacked and they were on the move again.

(updated my taglist. If you want on/off let me know)

@alyisdead @ask-kakashihatake @badluckgirl @band–psycho@beautyqueenforbes@blackleatherjacketz @bubbajeffrey@collette04@daisysouthmoore @drraegon  @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash@genevievedarcygranger@hanaissupergirl   @i-am-negan-trash @imstonecoldnegan @its-moonblr @jessiellong1987@judymosali @kalifornia-born @kayodex19@letsby @lilantisocialextrovert@lolalexturnerlol @londoncapsule @lostdarksoul6 @mely010@mypopurribitch @ne-gans @negansdirtygirl22   @negans-wife  @negan-the-cat @negans-network @prettyepiic @rose8801@sarcasticrose18@scarletthart96 @sev3nruby @star017@suddenlycrushed@teamnegansaviors @toxic-ink@warriorqueen1991 @witchofravenclaw

[blueriverhayes]

[6] Alone

Read parts 1-5:

Warning: mentions rape

A/N: this is my first chapter in Daryl's POV so it's short and probably not my best work. . . :)

《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》

Daryl's P.O.V.

Realizing just how tired Eva was as she snored softly on her pallet, Daryl decided to let her sleep through the night. It wouldn't kill him to stay up just a little longer, and it's not like he hasn't gone without sleep before.

At dusk, after making sure the hardware store was safe and secure with Eva sleeping soundly in the back, Daryl decided to check out more of the town for some supplies. In his rush to escape the herd at the farmhouse, Daryl left almost everything behind.

The town was in ruins after the walkers passed through. Broken glass was shattered on the roads, trash littered the sidewalk, and a car alarm sounded in the distance. Daryl then wondered what Hershel's farm looked like now, and felt a pang in his heart for the lost home and his lost family. But he quickly took his mind off of those things; Daryl needed to be focused on the here and now, focused on keeping him and Eva safe.

Daryl reached the edge of the town before he saw a building that looked untouched - for the most part - by walkers and people. He read the sign as he walked in: Baldwyn City Drugs.

Inside the small building were a few rows of shelves that still had a bit of medicine on them. Without reading the labels, Daryl threw as much as he could in his bag before moving on. He found a couple bottles of water that had rolled beneath the shelves, a cracked skillet, and, to his relief, an unopened pack of cigarettes. Cramming all of this into his bag, Daryl made his way back outside, but not before noticing something shiny on the floor behind a vending machine. Bending down to pick it up, Daryl realized it was a chocolate bar, still intact, although a little melted. Daryl smiled as he began to open it, the thought of tasting chocolate again making his mouth water, but, at the last minute, he decided he would share it with Eva.

Daryl scavenged through a few more stores, picking up some supplies here and there before his bag got full. He made his way back to the hardware store, grabbing a can of baked beans out of his bag and decided to crack it open for lunch. The small fire he built in the corner of the store was just embers by then, and since all the windows were boarded, it was nearly pitch-dark inside.

"You up?" Daryl asked, directing his voice to the back of the store where he left Eva. He threw torn pieces of paper on the embers, and then small pieces of wood as the flames grew into something he could cook with. Daryl looked where Eva's pallet was, which the new flames lit up, but Eva was nowhere to be found.

"Eva?" He called out, instantly on guard-mode. He grabbed his crossbow and walked over to the pallet, and relief washed over him as he noticed her bag and gun were gun, too. Deciding that Eva was a grown woman who could take care of herself, and who had a hunting rifle on her, Daryl went back to his fire and poured the baked beans on the skillet.

《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》《《 》》

It was late into the afternoon when Daryl began to worry. There was no sign of Eva. He grabbed his bow and walked outside, searching the litter on the ground for some sort of trail to follow. Finding one, he jogged alongside it, scanning the treeline over and over again for any kind of movement. He followed the trail into the woods, his eyes now straining and his heart beating faster. He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach, tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that Eva left him on his own, or worse, that Eva was dead. He jogged on, gripping his crossbow tighter, until a change in the trail stopped him in his tracks. For nearly a mile, Eva's trail was the only one, but right at his feet Daryl saw at least two more tracks merge with Eva's. Taking another careful look at the trees surrounding him, Daryl readied his crossbow and moved forward. He walked for another twenty feet or so before something caught his eye. As he got closer, he saw Eva's clothes scattered on the forest floor, torn to shreds.

"Eva!" Daryl called out before even realizing he had done so. He didn't want to attract unwanted attention. He followed the trail again, running this time, and trying not to run into any trees or trip over fallen limbs. He noticed that the two other tracks veered off after a while, but he stayed on course with what he hoped was Eva's trail.

"Eva!" He called again, no longer caring who - or what - heard him. It was getting dark out, and he knew that the darker it got the harder it would be to find her.

Suddenly, there was a quiet noise coming from Daryl's left. He stopped where he was and aimed his bow at the noise. Looking through the sights of his crossbow, Daryl saw a crumpled body curled up in the leaves underneath a tree. He took a second to make sure there was nobody else around before running to the body.

"Eva?" Daryl dropped his bow and ran up to the body. It was Eva, but she was unconscious and naked. Daryl quickly unbuttoned his shirt and draped it around her limp body before picking her up bridal-style and beginning the trek back to town.

《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》

By the time Daryl made it back into town, the sun had set and he was nearly out of breath. Eva was still knocked out, and Daryl could only hope that she was okay. There was no telling what happened to her out there.

It happened because you weren't with her.

Daryl clenched his jaw but didn't slow his pace until he arrived at the hardware store. He kicked the door open and carried Eva back over to her pallet. He found an old pair of his pants and pulled them over Eva's legs, making sure his eyes were anywhere but on her. Then all he could do was wait.

《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》

It was the next morning before Daryl heard anything from Eva. He was sitting by the fire, which was back down to embers, when he heard crying from the back of the store. He waited a moment to see if she would stop; he hated watching other people cry. It made him uncomfortable. But, after a minute or so of Eva not letting up, Daryl decided to check on her.

"Eva?" He spoke quietly, approaching the shaken girl the same way he would approach a scared animal. He averted his gaze as Eva wiped her tears away with his shirtsleeve. "You alright?"

To Daryl's surprise, Eva looked up at him and attempted to smile, but it was easy to see how forced it was.

"Course I am. Where are my clothes?"

Daryl cleared his throat. "Dunno," he said, "when I found you. . ." Daryl's voice trailed off as he tried to think about anything other than Eva lying naked in the woods. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Eva mumbled an incoherent response.

"Those, uh, those are the smallest I got," Daryl said, nodding to his clothes on Eva. "D'ya know what happened?" His hand fell from his mouth as he said this - he was chewing on his fingernail. He hadn't even realized he started biting it; it was a bad habit he developed long ago and he couldn't stop it.

Daryl watched as Eva squirmed, curling her body tighter together. She had a nauseated expression on her face, but in a blink of an eye it changed to one of determination.

"They took my food," Eva said softly, almost to herself. "I'm gonna go-" Eva began to stand up, but Daryl immediately took a step forward to push her back down. He knew she was too weak to go back out; she obviously suffered a serious head injury. Before he could guide her back down on the pallet, Eva fell back against the wall. It took a second for Daryl to realize that she was scared of him.

Daryl cleared his throat again and took a step back. "It's best if you stay here. I got food." The words barely left his mouth when Eva's eyes closed and she slumped forward, unconscious again. He gently helped her lay down, ignoring the fear that was making its way into his mind. Every time one of his friends was hurt, there was always somebody else around who knew what to do. Somebody who was useful. All Daryl could do was sit back and watch, and be there for Eva when she came to.

《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》《《》》

[onlyjihoons]

friends; p.j.h

synopsis: you’ve had a crush on jihoon for the longest time, but does he like you back?

warnings: rip jihoon

genre:angst,, slight fluff

word count:2107

masterlist//requests are open

a/n; special shout-out to @spread-our-wings and @xiupch and my friend for digging me out of the writers’ block hole

listen to: Egoist(Olivia Hye)(Feat Jinsoul); LOOΠΔ

“I didn’t come along to drink,” You sighed, as your friend, Jihoon dragged you by your wrist as he handed you a red solo cup, “I thought I was just here to help you chase those girls away.”

“Yeah, we gotta drink to make it real.” Jihoon nudges you, “Right, babe?”

You rolled your eyes, as you gripped the cup tightly, contents slightly spilling out. You hated how tightly Jihoon has you wrapped around his finger, how his sinful smile could win you over instantly. No doubt, Jihoon has tons of girls willing to throw themselves at him, with the face of his, pale, smooth, flawless. Even though he had had a peculiar sense of fashion, people would still compliment him. Because his face always makes up for it.

And you? He’s your crush.

You definitely weren’t prepared to be mentally attacked every single breathing second you are with him, but you just liked his presence. Something calming, sometimes sending your heart racing. He was a nice friend, listening to all of your rants, going home together after a long day at school. The both of you shared classes, and sometimes studying together if he wasn’t with his buddies. Before you knew it, you were falling deeper and deeper for Jihoon, and you hated yourself so much for letting yourself fall into the unknown abyss of feelings.

You confessed to Jihoon once, but he told you he wanted to focus on his studies before the big national exam. Now, it was already a week after the exams. And he has yet to get back to you with a reply. Instead, he asks you to come along to some frat’s party downtown. He didn’t want the girls, he just wanted to have a good time on the dance floor without being hit on.

So there you were, sitting at the bar, alone, with untouched alcohol in your hand, staring into blank space. You wanted to keep yourself sober in order to bring the drunk Jihoon home, but your thoughts got the better of you as you bit on the rim of the solo cup.

“You’ll actually faint if you down all of that at once,” You heard a voice, as you whipped your head to the voice. The boy, who was decked in a black-and-white checkered flannel, with a white muscle tee underneath and light washed jeans to match. He had a pair of old skool vans on his feet, and didn’t seem to give off the snobbish aura most fratboys had. He seemed humble, honey-bronze skin complimenting his doe-like eyes. He was attractive, but not really your type. For now.

You set down your cup on the bar table, “I doubt they actually serve plain water. I don’t think I can drink anything else.”

The boy hands you a can of cola, as you eyed him suspiciously, “You didn’t spike it, right?”

The boy throws his head back in laughter, “I’m the owner of this house, and it’s unopened. You can lodge a police report against me if you ever get drugged by this.”

Weirdly, you trusted the stranger- who later introduced himself as Lucas, and you enjoyed talking to him about anything. From school to friends, the both of you seemed to click well. Your conversation with Lucas was then cut short by an adrenaline- pumped Jihoon, who staggered to your seat at the bar.

Lucas took it as his cue to leave, as Jihoon stumbled into your arms, “It was so fun! Why didn’t you join me? It would’ve been fun…”

“Jihoon, I’m tired. Can we get back home?” You swung your legs away from the bar, hopping down from the stool. Jihoon nodded, as the both of you exited the party. It was 1am in the morning, but the night in the house was still young and club music could still be heard miles away from the house.

The both of you sat in silence as Jihoon drove, not knowing what to say anything to each other. You stared out of the window, admiring the city lights as you passed them.

“Y/N, I’ll stop by the gas station for a while. The car is out of gas.” Jihoon says, as he drove into a gas station.

You nodded silently, as you watched Jihoon get out of the car to fill the car with petrol. You leaned against the window, re-thinking Lucas’ words earlier at the party.

“Your crush doesn’t acknowledge your confession, yet treating you more than friends?” Lucas frowned, taking a sip of water from his Evian bottle.

“Yeah, I’m just, confused. I don’t know whether to give him up or continue being what we are.” You sighed, opening the can of cola.

“Well, in my opinion,” Lucas leaned against the bar table, “He’s just keeping you close, like a second option. But he might not want you as a girlfriend. You get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve told you my thoughts, ultimately, it’s your choice.” Lucas shrugged, “I don’t think it’s worth sticking by someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

You shook your head humorlessly, letting the carbonated drink slide down your throat.

“He must be very good looking,” Lucas snickered, looking around, “for you to stay with him.”

You looked at Jihoon, who was busy filling up the car with petrol. His glassy eyes remained focused, despite feeling your gaze on him. He smirks to himself, chewing on the gum in his mouth.

You glanced at Jihoon, his usual playful demeanour was not displayed on his face like how it was whenever you’re with him. Did he notice you staring at him? You then realised he knew what you were doing, and he really was, toying with your feelings like how Lucas warned you. Your heart was shattered, but not quite, as you were already prepared for the worst. You stared at your feet blankly, then at your made up face at the reflection, thinking why you did all of this for someone that didn’t cast a thought at how you were feeling.

You were shook out of your thoughts, as Jihoon opened the car door, car sinking at his weight.

“Sorry, the petrol’s flowing really slowly…” Jihoon apologised as he started the car.

“No… It’s fine.” You replied grimly, as worry washes over Jihoon’s face instantly.

“Y/N… Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, placing a hand on your arm, “You seem… off.”

“It’s just…” You shook your head, “I don’t know, Jihoon, do you consider me as a friend?”

“Of course I do,” You could sense Jihoon lying through his teeth, as the tips of his ears turned deep amber, “And maybe something more…”

Jihoon closed the space between the both of you, your cynical self subconsciously leaning in, faces centimetres away from each other.

Just as Jihoon’s lips ghosted right above yours, you pushed him away, breathing heavily, “No, Jihoon, we can’t do this.”

“What? Why?” Jihoon looked slightly offended, frowning, “I like you, and you like me…”

“No… I’m not… ready.” You excused yourself, “Just drive me home, Jihoon. I’m really really exhausted.”

Jihoon questioned you no further, driving away from the petrol station.

The both of you sat in awkward silence, only the noise from the ignition of Jihoon’s car filling the awkward air. You dare not take a glance at Jihoon, whose face was always unreadable.

The passing city lights slightly comforting you, gently lulling you to sleep.

“Y/N,” Jihoon called you, “Y/N?”

You slowly woke up to the noise, blurry vision clearing as you saw Jihoon’s face inches away from yours.

“We’ve reached.” Jihoon smiles as he unbuckles your seatbelt, “Did you rest well?”

You were not used to seeing this side of Jihoon, slightly frowning, “Uh, yea.”

“So… I’ll see you later?” Jihoon tilts his head, leaning back into his seat.

“Later…?” The frown knitted more, “When…”

“It’s 2am now,” Jihoon giggled, “2pm. Our study date.”

You cursed silently to yourself, why did you even want to see Jihoon even after seeing him a few hours before? You must be pretty damn desperate then, asking him out right after a party.

“Oh, right.” You smiled sheepishly, “See you later, Jihoon.”

“Rest well!” Jihoon waves as he sees you exit the car, watching you as you retraced the steps back home.

You watched Jihoon drive off as he saw you enter your home, white smoke emitting from the exhaust, dissipating into the air like your thoughts about everything that just occurred to you in the span of one night.

You sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head as nothing seemed to go right whenever you thought about it. You got up, making your way to the kitchen to grab a bag of chips, your favourite honey dijon chips from Kettle. You chomped on the chip angrily, swallowing hard. Why must Jihoon be so annoyingly handsome that renders your mind completely useless? Why did he have to do those things to your weak heart?

Thousands of questions filled your mind as you continue to finish the bag of your favourite chips faster than you can come to answers to your mindless questions.

You let the questions take over your mind, stirring for the next hour as you showered and blow-dried your hair. Eventually, with exhaustion taking over, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

You definitely wasn’t expecting Jihoon to arrive at your home, just as you were about to leave.

“What are you doing here?” You probed, clutching onto your laptop tightly.

“I came to pick you up, so we can go to the cafe together.” Jihoon sends you another of his heart-stopping smiles, which sent your heart beating wildly.

“But we literally saw each other like, hours ago…” You mumbled, as you locked the door.

On the way to the cafe, it wasn’t as awkward as you expected, Jihoon being more spontaneous in his conversations than usual, giving you more of his smiles as well. He became more cheerful, more energetic. It make you wonder how someone could survive on 6 hours of sleep when he partied just mere hours ago. Was he on steroids? Or did he overdose on some redbull?

You decided to shake off the rest of your thoughts and go along with it, ultimately focusing on your work.

Or so you thought, with Jihoon’s gazed fixated on you, you had a hard time concentrating on your work.

“Quit staring at me,” You mumbled, eyes still on your laptop screen, “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“What? Are you flustered?” Jihoon winks.

“No, its just annoying to have someone staring at me when I’m trying to concentrate.” You replied curtly.

“Wow, that hurt,” Jihoon clutches his heart, “Since when were you so straightforward?”

You didn’t respond. You made up your mind today that you wanted to cut Jihoon out, completely. You didn’t want to be led on any longer, thinking back at Lucas’ words earlier at the party.

I don’t think it’s worth sticking by someone who doesn’t feel the same way.

“Look, Jihoon, I don’t like that you keep toying with me.” You fumed, “I’m not an accessory you can keep. Friends don’t do that.”

Jihoon was stunned, “Y/N… I would never—“

“Yes you would!” You raised your voice, a couple of customers looking your way already, “You already did anyway. I hate that I am still friends with you despite all these. I was oblivious. Stupid. Under your grasp. I don’t want it anymore.”

Jihoon held your hands, looking straight into your eyes, “I’m sorry if i gave off the wrong vibe to you, Y/N, but my feelings are really genuine.”

You could feel your friend’s gaze on you, it was all lies.

“Nonsense.” You shook your hand off, “Prove it then.”

Jihoon leans in, pressing his lips firmly onto yours. You wished you could continue on this ecstasy, but it wasn’t right. You could feel that he wanted to leave his lips on yours more, but you pushed him away, not liking how Jihoon could have his way all the time.

“Call this friendship done, Jihoon.” You packed your stuff, tears stinging your eyes, “Don’t pretend to like me when you don’t.”

Jihoon eyed you warily, biting his lips. He had so much he wanted to say, but no words came out.

Before you left the cafe, you eyed your ex-friend one last time, before the tinkle of the bells resonated through the cafe.

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, tears spilling out. He took out his phone, texting his friend, Woojin.

Woojin, I lost her.

I miss her.

[hopefullysomethingnew17]

Chapter 1: Peter

​I slapped the alarm as I rolled over. It was too damn early. Way too damn early to be waking up on a weekend. It was a good thing classes were already over. I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed the first clean shirt I could find. It ended up being a faded tank I hadn’t worn since spring break. I plodded around half-asleep, half-naked, and all-irritated. I trudged into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. That helped. I squinted into the mirror, the image of my face a little fuzzy without my glasses. I needed to shave. Oh well. I walked back into the bedroom and grabbed my glasses off my nightstand. Once I had them on I found a pair of khaki shorts and pulled them on, only to have them slide halfway down my ass by the time I made it into the living room. So I turned around and grabbed a cloth belt off the back of my closet door and cinched it tight as I walked back into the living room.

It was too early for any of my roommates to be up, but I wasn’t worried about being quiet. They were all probably too hungover from whatever end-of-the-year parties they had been to the night before. I checked the fridge. It was overflowing with cheap beer and Chinese takeout, easily the most stereotypical college apartment fridge I had ever seen. I grabbed the carton of milk from behind a case of Bud Light and shut the fridge. Then, I grabbed a box of cereal and a bowl and made myself a meager little breakfast. I ate it quickly and went back to my room to double-check my stuff. Most of the clothes I owned were stuffed into a duffel bag on the floor next to the bed. I rifled through it to make sure I had enough for the next week. It was mostly khaki shorts and t-shirts, but I made sure I had two pairs of trunks and plenty of underwear. Never could be too safe.

Once I was sure all my clothes were in order, I unzipped my backpack to make sure everything else I needed was packed inside. My laptop and various chargers were tucked into the back pocket; my shampoo, soap, and deodorant was bagged up in the bottom; my toothbrush and toothpaste were sitting on top of that; my headphones were neatly tucked into there case on top of the toiletries; and my sparkling clean sneakers were holding everything in place on top. All my other shoes were in my duffel bag, but these sneaks were special. They were vintage Chicago Air Jordan 1s, 1985 stock. I wasn’t a sneakerhead by any stretch of the imagination, but my dad had given them to me as a kid, and I had taken meticulous care of them since. They were like my good luck charm. I took them with me everywhere I went. I ran my thumb along them before zipping my backpack up and checking the front pouch for everything else. Tylenol, check. Earbuds, check. Aux cord, check. I still had a nagging feeling I was forgetting something. Extra glasses maybe? I opened my nightstand drawer to find them. They were sitting next to an unopened box of condoms. I laughed and tossed both into the bag. As if, I thought. I zipped everything back up and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I grabbed my duffel and headed towards the door before I remembered one last thing. I set my stuff by the door and walked back to my dresser to pick up my record player.

I pulled off the record sitting on the turntable and thumbed through my collection until I found the right sleeve. It was Queen’s Greatest Hits, sides 3 and 4. I slipped the vinyl back into its spot and shut the lid to my player. I unplugged it and rolled the cord up, sticking it into my carrying case along with the player itself. I had room for ten vinyls in the case, so I flipped through my collection and picked out my favorites: Queen, Snarky Puppy, Steve Miller Band, Imagine Dragons, They Might Be Giants, Survivor, Commodores. I tucked them all into the case and closed it tight. I looked around the room for anything else I might need, and, finding nothing, I grabbed my record and headed out the door, grabbing my backpack and duffel on the way out. I checked the clock on the living room wall before I left. It was only 7:30. I told Charlie I’d be there at 8:00. I’d have to hurry. But then again, knowing Charlie, it would be 9:00 before we ever left. I turned the lights off behind me as I left, heading downstairs to the parking garage. I decided to go through the courtyard on my way. It was more doors to go through, but even as early as it was, it was a beautiful day. The lights hanging around the courtyard were just turning off as I made my way out. I headed through the lobby and out to the parking garage, weaving my way through until I made it to my car.

Baby was my dream car, a 1969 Volkswagen Beetle, baby blue with original chrome trim. My grandpa had bought off an air force base before my dad was born, but he stopped driving it in the 90s, mainly because he could never drive a stick very well. Once I got a job in high school, half my paychecks went into new parts for the old girl, and by senior year I had her running beautifully. I’d driven her ever since, fixing her up more and more whenever I could. She was now sporting whitewall tires, a completely rebuilt engine with twice the horsepower of the original, a new paintjob, and custom upholstery. I couldn’t remember when I’d started calling her baby. It was probably around the time I finally started driving her. I was the stereotypical new car owner and referred to her as my baby, and the name kinda stuck. My friends had all made fun of me at first for driving such a “dorky” car, but once they took a ride in it, they all fell in love with it just like I did. I joked that if my engineering degree ever fell through I could always fall back on mechanics. As many hours as I’d spent fixing up Baby, it really wasn’t too far from the truth.

I took a deep, heavy breath as I turned the engine over, struggling to keep my eyes open as I pulled out onto the road. I made the executive decision to be late to Charlie’s for the sake of coffee. And booze. After seeing the pathetic selection in my fridge, I decided to take those matters into my own hands. I pulled into Grit Coffee Bar, a popular streetside café I frequented throughout the week to fuel my unhealthy reliance on espresso. Parking was no problem, being as early as it was on a Sunday morning. I managed to get a spot in the right in front of the coffeeshop. It was 7:45 when I pulled in, and I remembered that they didn’t open until 8:00 on Sundays. I killed the engine and pulled out my phone to text Charlie.

ME: Hey, gonna be late. Needed coffee and booze.

I waited for a reply, but it didn’t come for a while. I plugged in my earbuds and opened Spotify, not looking for anything in particular. I was halfway through “Lazaretto” by Jack White when my phone pinged with Charlie’s response.

CHARLIE: Ah shit I just woke up.

ME: Why am I not surprised?

CHARLIE: Oh get off my case.

CHARLIE: You’re the one buying booze at 8 AM.

ME: Well it’s either I buy it now or you get stuck with Bud Light for a week.

CHARLIE: Oh, nvm good call man.

I checked the time again. It was 8:05. The doors were just opening. I locked the car behind me and headed in to grab a coffee to kickstart the long day of driving ahead of me. Gus, a good friend of mine, was working the morning shift today.

“Should’ve known you’d be in here this early,” he joked. “You’ve gotta be the only guy on campus crazy enough to be up right now.”

“Thanks, Gus,” I feigned sarcasm, slapping a five on the counter. He didn’t even have to ask what I wanted. I came in so often that almost every employee knew I always got a medium caramel latte with two shots espresso and whipped cream. Gus was already grinding the beans as I walked up to the counter.

“I’m serious, you know,” he said, pouring the coffee into the cup. “I didn’t pass a single car on my way to work today. Why are you even up so early? All your roommates were at the big party at Trinity last night.”

“I’m going on a big road trip,” I said, grabbing my coffee and change off the counter.

“Really now?” Gus asked as he turned to clean out the espresso machine.

“Yup. I’m taking Charlie to Gulf Shores for Hangout.”

“Oh, you’re kidding! I’m so jealous, dude. That’s gonna be awesome.”

“Yeah, I really hope so. We’re gonna try to make it to Atlanta tonight.”

“Well, have fun. But be safe! Can’t have our number one customer up and leaving us.” Gus grinned and waved as I walked out, coffee in hand. I took a deep breath as I got in the car and cranked it up. This was without a doubt the craziest thing I had ever done. I shook off my nerves and broke into a grin as I pulled out of the parking lot. I turned on the radio just as my lucky song came on. Elton John was singing “Rocket Man” on the FM, and I couldn’t help but join him as my adventure started.

[minhoinator]

Note // MinKey oneshot // inspired by this insta live // read on A03

The steady static ended with a soft click, and Minho roused from his half-sleeping state. Jonghyun stood at the television, his small frame outlined by the light from the blank screen. He glanced back at the group, his eyebrows raising in surprise when he met Minho’s eyes. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” Minho nodded and watched Jonghyun fit the disc back into its case. “Can you try to wake up Jinki? I’m going to take him home.” 

Yawning, Minho looked around at the others. Jinki sat curled up on his right side, his head leaned back against the couch. He also happened to be snoring – rather loudly, in fact. Minho was surprised that it had not awakened him sooner. Taemin sat at the coffee table amidst half-empty soju bottles and the three pizzas they had ordered. His face was buried in his crossed arms and Garçons lay at his side. 

Minho glanced down to Kibum’s head, which was resting on his lap. He was covered in the blanket Minho had grabbed for himself before the movie started, and Comme Des lay curled up on his chest. Minho removed his hand from Kibum’s hold and gave Jinki a gentle shake.

“Hey, hey Jinki,” he said. “Wake up.” 

No response.

Minho’s sigh turned into another yawn. “Hey,” he shook Jinki’s arm a little harder. “Jjong is gonna take you home.”

Jonghyun turned the television off and set the DVD down on the TV stand. “You don’t have to be so gentle with him. Hey,” he said once he reached them, patting Jinki’s other shoulder then shaking it when he did not respond. “Hey!”

Jinki woke with a snort. “Wha – “ He glanced between Jonghyun and Minho, smiling sleepily. “Good morning.”

“Good mo – “ Minho started to say but Jonghyun cut him off when he picked Jinki up by his shoulders.

“Are you going to be able to take care of the other two?” Jonghyun asked, leading Jinki to Kibum’s front door. He glanced back when Minho did not answer right away. “Min?” 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

Jonghyun huffed as he struggled to open the door. “Text me when you get home, all right? For my own peace of mind.”

“I will.” The door closed behind Jonghyun, and Minho sat still, listening until he heard his car drive away. Minho shifted on the couch and Kibum curled up a little tighter next to him. He held Kibum’s head steady as he slipped off the couch and reached for the pillow at the far end to rest his head on.

Comme Des and Garçons were awake now, and they trailed after Minho as he went to the kitchen in search of his Gatorade. He was not sure how many he had left – none in the fridge – at Kibum’s apartment. He opened the pantry and found an unopened case on the bottom shelf. Picking a red one, he opened it and took a sip as he shuffled back to the living room.  

Soju bottles clinked together as he picked them up. The sound roused Taemin, who sat up, blinking slowly. “How are you feeling?” Minho asked, handing his Gatorade to Taemin when his response was something indistinguishable. “Drink it. You’ll feel a little better.”

”Mm.” 

Minho set down the bottles for a second and crouched down by Taemin to unscrew the lid. Taemin took a couple of sips as Minho collected the soju bottles again. Once he returned to the living room, Taemin had finished almost half of the Gatorade.

Taemin looked up when Minho came in and took another bite of cold pizza. “Hey.” The single syllable seemed to be drawn-out a little too long.

“Are you awake enough to do things?” 

“Depends on the things.”

Minho smiled and glanced down at Comme Des and Garçons. He shook his wrist so that his watch faced him. 12:37am. “Can you take the puppies out? And make sure that they don’t bark?” Taemin blinked once…twice…and then took a sip of his Gatorade. “Taemin?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay.” He gathered the rest of the bottles and padded back to the kitchen. The front door opened and closed as he tossed the empty soju bottles into the trash.

Minho came back into the main room with the trash bag full of their garbage from the night. He stacked the empty pizza boxes and tucked them under his arm. He set them by the front door and wiped his hands off on his jeans before walking back to the couch where Kibum was still asleep. He touched Kibum’s shoulder, and Kibum curled into his pillow even more. Minho nibbled at his bottom lip, debating how to wake his best friend up.

“Bummie,” he said, patting his shoulder. Kibum’s brow scrunched as he let out a quiet sort of whine. Minho covered his smile with his hand. “So cute…” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Ah…focus, Minho.” He slipped his arm underneath Kibum and supported his head with his other hand as he sat him up on the couch. Kibum roused slowly as Minho sat next to him, still holding him up.

“What’s going on?” Kibum asked, his voice husky. He cleared his throat and blinked at Minho.

“How are you feeling?”

Kibum frowned and stared over Minho’s shoulder as he decided. “Groggy.”

“Ah,” Minho said with a laugh. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Kibum’s gaze slid to Minho, his frown deepening. “I was already asleep.”

“Yes, but not in bed.” Kibum shrugged, sighing heavily. “Come on.” Minho helped him stand and slung Kibum’s arm over his shoulders. Kibum stumbled as Minho started them to his bedroom and he wrapped his other arm around Minho’s waist.

He rested his head on Minho’s shoulder, yawning. “Yosmulnizz…”

Minho glanced down at Kibum as he pushed open his bedroom door. “Hmm?”

“You smell nice.”

“Oh?” Minho set Kibum down on his favorite side of the bed.

“Mmhm. Like those Cinnabon stores we walk past in American airports.” Minho laughed. Kibum closed his eyes with a sleepy smile. “It makes sense, I suppose. You’re basically a cinnamon roll.”

Minho bit back his smile as he helped Kibum slip underneath the covers. “How so?”

Kibum patted an indent into his pillow before sinking his head into it, closing his eyes. “You’re sweet. And warm. Everybody loves you.”

“Well, they should,” Minho said, his tone joking.

The subtlety was lost on the half-asleep Kibum, who agreed with a single nod. Minho slid off the bed to turn off the light. Before he could get far, Kibum grabbed his wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to finish cleaning up and take Taemin home.” Kibum released Minho from his hold with the tiniest hint of a pout. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Minho nodded and went to the door, leaving it slightly ajar behind him. Once he returned to the living room, Comme Des and Garçons greeted him with wagging tails and wet kisses on his hands. He picked both puppies up and grinned as they licked his face.

“Are we leaving soon?” Taemin asked after he finished hanging up the leashes in the hall closet.

“Yeah.” He nodded to the stack of garbage by the door. “Take those out and then wait for me in the car. My keys are in my jacket pocket. I won’t be too much longer.”

Taemin grabbed Minho’s jacket from the closet before he closed the door and slung it over his shoulder. Minho went back into the hall as Taemin picked up the garbage and opened the front door again. He set them down on the floor by the door and pushed it open with his foot to let them inside. He peeked in to make sure they got safely up onto the bed before he shuffled away.

Minho wetted a washcloth and wiped down the counters before heading into the living room to wipe down the coffee table. He folded the blankets and tucked them into their place in the linen closet in the hallway. He rearranged the pillows and cushions on the couch and armchair. Picking up the washcloth, he walked back into the kitchen and folded it over the sink. He shook out the trash bag as quietly as he could and relined the bin.

“Am I done?” He looked around for something else to clean. Nothing really stood out to him. Humming to himself, Minho grabbed a glass and filled it up with water. He turned off the light in the kitchen and went into Kibum’s bathroom to grab a bottle of Tylenol.

Minho walked down the hallway, halting when he noticed a lamp on in his office. He set the glass and pill bottle down on the desk and reached over to turn off the lamp. He froze when he noticed what Kibum was working on. It looked like sketches of outfit ideas for them for their concerts. Minho shuffled through the papers, looking for Kibum’s outfit for him.

It was a simple suit with a thin stripe down his leg and what appeared to be a black shirt under the jacket. Lipstick, Don’t Stop, Tell Me What To Do, Diamond Sky, and Beautiful was written at the top of the page, just under his name. Burgandy is a good color for him, one of the notes said. But honestly, he looks great in any color. Also, another said, with arrows pointing to the stripe on the leg. This should be velvet in a matching shade (or in black). Minho smiled, sifting through the other sketches.

Minho picked up a sharpie, debating whether he should add his own thoughts. He decided against right away – he did not want Kibum to get mad at him for fucking with his sketches – so he capped the sharpie. When he reached up to turn off the lamp once again, his gaze fell on a disheveled stack of blank papers.

Uncapping the sharpie, he scrawled a quick note and tucked it under his arm. He grabbed the Tylenol and water glass and flicked off the light. He closed the office door behind him before he headed back into Kibum’s room.

His soft snores filled the room as Minho tiptoed into the bedroom and set the note down on his nightstand. He placed the pill bottle on top of the note and the glass of water closer to the edge of the nightstand.

“Hey, I know you’re sleeping,” he said, crouching next to Kibum’s bed. “But you need to remember to drink this water as soon as you wake up, promise?” He hooked his pinky with Kibum’s, glancing up to see if he woke him, before he sealed the promise with their thumbs. “Okay.” He took his hand back and pushed Kibum’s hair off his forehead. “There’s some Tylenol too, in case you have a headache in the morning.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he dropped his hand from Kibum’s face.

Minho stood, stretching his back before he turned to leave, and looked down at the note.

“Another thing,” he said, worrying his bottom lip. He looked between the note and Kibum, smiling. “Well, I guess you’ll see tomorrow.”

He walked over to the door, turning around to look at Kibum one last time before he flipped off the light.

- - -

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Kibum blinked himself awake. There was an unfamiliar vibrating sensation in his pocket that he felt was the most confusing thing. He rolled over, rousing his puppies from their sleep, and felt around in his pocket for what turned out to be his phone. Once he silenced his alarm, he rolled back over and covered his throbbing head with the cool side of his pillow.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping against hope that he would force himself to go to sleep once again.

It was, of course, to no avail.

He brought his phone up to the edge of his comforter and squinted at the brightness when he tapped his screen. 7:32am. Sighing, he flipped his phone over and sat up on his elbows. He reached for the glass of water on his nightstand and drank half of it before he noticed the bottle of pain pills.

“Way to go, drunk me,” he mumbled as he grabbed the Tylenol. He dumped three pills into his palm and popped them in his mouth, taking them all together with one drink. 

Comme Des climbed into his lap as he finished his water. He nudged at Kibum’s elbow when he set it back down on the nightstand next to a note. He picked Comme Des up and held him to his chest, kissing his wet nose. Wait, note? Kibum leaned over and grabbed the sheet of paper.

Kibum-ah, I love you ♡ by Choi Minho

Kibum smiled and set his chin on the top of Comme Des’ head as he read the note over again. He brushed his thumb over the messily scribbled heart. Minho’s penmanship was usually better than this…maybe he was still drunk when he wrote this? Or perhaps just in a hurry?

He looked over the note at the empty glass and the open bottle of Tylenol. Ah, it must have been Minho that left those for him this morning. It was just like him – honestly, he should have known.

Garçons trotted into his bedroom and Comme Des wriggled his way out of Kibum’s hold to join his brother on the floor. Both puppies scampered out into the hall. Kibum soon followed them, setting Minho’s note on his dresser before he left the room. They pranced by the front door as he approached the coat closet. Kibum grabbed their leashes, clipping them on and letting them lead him outside. 

Kibum held both leashes in one hand and checked his notifications with the other. Three texts from his mom , one from Jjong, and two from Min. He tapped on Minho’s name.

Min 

1:28am // Taemin and I made it home safe

1:29am // I meant to send that to Jonghyun, sorry

“Well, it’s still nice to know.” He opened Jonghyun’s message next.

Jjong 

12:43am // Thanks for having us over last night. I had a lot of fun and I know the other’s probably did as well ^^ We should hang out together more often  ^ㅂ^

Smirking, Kibum opened his texts from his mom. He looked over the top of his phone to make sure the puppies were doing their business.

♡ Mom ♡

6:22am // can you check and see when you have some extra time in your timing table

6:23am // *schedule

6:23am // Your father and I are planning a trip and we would love it if you were able to come with us, if possible 

7:49am // That sounds fun, mom

7:49am // I’ll see what I can do

His puppies tugged on their leashes, eager to go back inside. Kibum unclipped their leashes once the door was closed and pocketed his phone. He kicked off his slippers and followed Comme Des and Garçons into the kitchen. They sat waiting by their food and water dishes, their tails wagging. His phone vibrated in his pocket as he scooped their kibble.

Patting their heads, he straightened and grabbed his phone. He set it on the counter – it buzzed again – next to his coffee pot and got it started before he checked his new notifications. 

Min

7:54am // How are you feeling?

7:55am // Did you drink the water?

Kibum smiled at his phone, a warm, fuzzy feeling blooming in his chest. For a moment, he thought about just texting him back. He tapped the phone icon and waited for Minho to pick up.

“Hello?”

He sounded sleepy. Knowing him, he probably did not get to sleep until around 2am. 

“Morning,” Kibum said, tucking his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he poured his coffee. “I’m feeling okay, actually. Just a little bit of a headache. Thanks for setting out the Tylenol and water.”

“Yeah,” Minho said, his voice smiling. “No problem.” 

Kibum took his cup of coffee to the living room to assess the damage from last night, only to find that there was none. “Did you clean up too?”

“Taemin and I did.” Kibum pressed his phone over his heart, sighing. He – and Taemin, of course – was just the sweetest. He said as much to Minho, who chuckled. “Like a cinnamon roll?”

“Cinnamon…roll?” Kibum asked, confused. Minho laughed again and Kibum took a sip of his coffee as he meandered down the hallway to his bedroom. “But really, you didn’t have to clean up.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” 

“I know, but,” Kibum stopped in front of his dresser and straightened Minho’s note as he read it again. “Thank you.”

Kibum set his phone to speaker. He let Minho talk as he got ready for the day, interjecting occasionally when he asked Kibum a question. Once he changed out of his clothes from last night into a fresh outfit, he switched the speaker off. “Hey Min, I’m gonna go.”

“Oh, all right. Are you gonna make it to practice?”

Kibum groaned, rubbing his free hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll probably be a little late though.”

“Okay, I’ll tell the others.”

“Thanks.” He plopped down on his bed, and turned to look at the empty glass. “Oh, and Minho?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you, too,” he wanted to say, the words heavy on the tip of his tongue. He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later.”

Minho laughed again, Kibum smiling at the sound. “Okay, bye.”

He hung up and glanced at the door when he heard the clicking of his puppies footsteps approaching. Garçons appeared in the open doorway first, and Kibum patted his bed for him to jump up. His tail thumped against Kibum’s leg as he scratched his tummy.

Kibum opened his Instagram and scrolled through his feed as he finished drinking his coffee. He set the mug aside once he finished it and opened his front-facing camera. He adjusted his snapback before he went back to Instagram.

He cleared his throat as he tapped camera in the top left corner and shifted on the bed to find a good angle before he went live.