#get some taste.. psh... loser

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con bordering on non-con, ignoring of sexual boundaries

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

4. Mise-en-Place

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

Steve has to promise his coworker Daryl everything short of oral sex to get him to pick up his weekend shifts. But he does agree to do it.

And then Steve spends most of the week daydreaming about the upcoming trip with James. He packs and repacks his bag probably a dozen times. He doesn’t really know anything about what they’ll be doing, other than fucking and hanging out at the house. And he doesn’t know anything about the house except that it has a hot tub.

“The Catskills?” Clint complains when Steve calls the morning of his departure to let him know that he’ll be gone for a few days. “You’ve known this guy for a hot second and you’re letting him take you away to the middle of nowhere?”

Steve huffs. “It’s not the middle of nowhere. He’s got a house out there. He goes there all the time.” Steve stuffs his swim trunks into his already stuffed-full weekend bag, then wrestles the zipper closed. He plops down onto his bed with the phone at his ear. “Be happy for me. I really think this is going to go somewhere.”

Clint sighs over the line. “Fine. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve says primly.

“You’re welcome. Look, just … just let me know when you’ve gotten there safely, okay? And text me his address so I at least know where to send the cops for your body.”

“Thank you, Safety Officer Barton,” Steve drawls. “I’ll text you.” They say goodbye and Steve hangs up. He checks the time—still an hour to go. He sighs and tries to resist the urge to check and repack his stuff again.

Steve’s smile is massive as James pulls up in front of his building in the most ridiculous car Steve’s ever seen outside of a movie. “Wow,” he says.

James is movie star handsome in his windswept hair and sunglasses, jaw working as he chews a piece of gum. “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Steve laughs at the line and tosses his bag in the backseat. He opens the passenger side door and slides in across buttery leather. “Is this a fucking Lamborghini?”

“Bugatti, baby,” James says, popping his gum. “You like it?”

“Well I’m not exactly a car guy but …” Steve looks around the interior and nods, impressed. “Don’t you think it’s too cold to have the top down?”

“Psh, 'course it is.” James pushes a button on the dash and the top starts coming out. He leans over and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Just wanted to pull up in style.”

Steve hums, taking in the nice outfit James is wearing, how he manages to look so well put together even when he’s casual. (What is something like that called? A sports jacket?) “Yeah. I don’t think anybody could accuse you of not being stylish.” He tries to remember what all he’d stuffed in his bag that morning. It hadn’t all been tee shirts and jeans, had it? Hm. He fiddles with his hands, picking at where there’s still a bit of ochre #217 crusted under the nail. “This isn’t what you were driving on our date.”

“I usually keep this one out at the house,” James tells him. “I’m not about to shell out for a second parking space in fucking Midtown.”

Steve laughs at him, because anybody who drives a Bugatti sure as shit doesn’t have to worry about wasting a few grand on parking.

“Hey! It’s the principle of the matter,” James argues as they zip down Atlantic Avenue, headed for the interstate. “Some things are worth splurging on, some things aren’t.”

“Okay.” Steve settles back in his seat. “What’s worth splurging on, then?”

“Mm.” James pretends to think about it. “Cars to impress your new boyfriend,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “Watches. I fucking love watches. Hm … travel, art, a view, privacy,” he continues listing, unaware that Steve’s still totally stuck on the first part. “And a good meal.” He looks over, grinning. “Don’t you think?”

“Um,” Steve licks his lips, trying to calm down. “Y-yeah. Yeah I guess all of those things.” He looks back out the windshield, thoughts spinning. Should he say something? He thinks he should. No better time than when they’re stuck together in a car. There’ll be no escaping the conversation. “So … are we boyfriends?” he asks, his voice coming out much quieter than he intends. He sounds exactly as nervous as he doesn’t want James to think he is. “I mean …” He looks over, can’t read James’ expression because the guy’s half cloaked by the aviators. “Are we?”

James takes one hand off the wheel and holds it out for Steve, threading their fingers together. “I was thinking that we were,” he says, not looking away from the road. “I haven’t been seeing anyone else since I met you. I haven’t wanted to.”

Steve swallows, the butterflies (or frogs or whatever-the-fuck idiom it is that lives in his stomach) jumping around happily. “Me neither,” he says. He tries not to beam too much, tries to be smooth and cool like James is. “Ah, that’s kind of what I was hoping for. What I was hoping you wanted.” He huffs and scratches at his neck awkwardly. “I just um, guess I’ve gotten used to not putting a label on things. ‘Boyfriend’ and stuff.” He looks down. “Guys tend to disappear once you start talking like that.”

“Fuck. What sorts of losers have you been dating?” James says, and Steve is so honestly taken aback that he has to laugh at himself a little and concede the point.

“Yeah, I guess you might be right.”

“I know I’m right.”

It’s cute, how James has gentlemanly outrage for Steve’s lame ass dating life. Steve shrugs, smiling because it’s nice to feel wanted for once, instead of disposable. “S’fine. It just got disheartening after a while. I was starting to think maybe I’m one of those people who’s just meant to wind up alone. The odd one out. Ya know?”

It’s quiet, and when Steve looks over he’s surprised to find James staring at him, the aviators slipped down his nose to reveal his eyes. “Yeah,” James murmurs. “Yeah I know a little bit about being the odd one out.” On the center console, his hand gives Steve’s a squeeze. “And nobody’s meant to be alone, Honey.”

Steve’s chest constricts a little. He licks his lips and watches James watch him. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anybody with eyes as kind and as real as James’. He’s so fucking genuine that it makes Steve feel cracked open whenever James stares at him, peeled down to the raw bits underneath. “You know,” he says quietly. “I’ve never met somebody who looks at me like that.”

James’ mouth quirks. “Like what?”

“Hm. Like you know me already.” Steve turns his head with a sigh and lets his eyes slip closed while he feels the warmth of the sun coming in through the car window. “Like you can read my thoughts. Like you see something other people don’t. It’s intense.”

“... Too intense?”

“Mm mn.” Steve shakes his head. “No, actually I like it. It’s nice for a change. Makes me feel ... I dunno, almost kinda savored?”

When Steve peeks at him again, he’s treated to the sight of James, with his sunglasses pushed back up, grinning at the road. His smile is a slash of sparkling white across his handsome face, making him look too good to be true. “Somebody like you should be savored,” he tells him. “You know, I think I might keep you, Steve.”

Steve grins and turns his head to look back out the window as they drive farther and farther from the city.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Steve opens his eyes, yawning as the car pulls to a stop. “Mm.” He stretches and unhooks his seatbelt. "We there?"

“We’re here.”

From the driveway, the house isn’t much to look at. It’s almost fully concealed within the expertly done landscaping, as if the house’s existence itself is supposed to be a secret. The custom building materials visible at the front door are severe but unique, hinting at what’s inside.

“Holy f—” Steve trails in after James, eyes wide as he looks around.

“Home sweet home,” James demures, dropping Steve’s bag on the kitchen island and walking over to the fridge. There’s the tinkle of ice as he pulls things from the freezer drawer. “So what do you think? It’s nice, right?”

“Um …” Steve walks slowly through the living room, taking in the expensive house. One glance around and anybody with two braincells to rub together would be able to tell that the place was completely custom made, from the studs right on up to the roof. “Yeah. It’s really ...” he looks around. “Intimidating.”

“‘Intimidating’,” James echoes, amused. He pours something amber from a crystal decanter. “I guess that’s fair. You told me I'm intimidating, and I am the one who designed it.”

Steve goes to sit on the couch. “No, I mean it’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He looks around, considering the dark wood and poured concrete and brick, the beaten leather sofas and various oddball art pieces that somehow feel right. “Very … midcentury meets 70’s eclectic.”

James smirks and brings their drinks over, handing Steve his. “Ya know, I know you’re a snobby artist,” he teases. “So I’m not sure if you’re actually complimenting my house or poking fun at it.”

Steve grins around his cocktail straw. “Well it’s more fun if I leave you wondering.”

James sits down next to him on the couch. “Gonna keep me on my toes?”

“Oh, always.”

“By the way, that’s my version of an old fashioned,” James tells him. They clink glasses in a little toast.

“To our weekend away,” Steve says.

“To our very relaxing weekend away,” James agrees. “By the way,” he nods at Steve’s glass. “There’s a little something extra in there. Want to try and guess what it is?

“Ooh. Okay. What are the stakes?”

James waggles his eyebrows. “Oral sex?”

Steve snorts. “Okay sure. But is there really a loser in that equation?”

“Probably not.” James gives him a wink. “But there is most certainly a winner.”

Steve brings his glass up for a thoughtful sip. “Hmm … peach?” he guesses.

James smirks and sinks back further into the couch. “Nope. Close though.”

Steve tries again, sips and thinks about it. “Apricot?”

“Nope.” James is looking delighted. “One more guess. You are close.”

“Well if it’s a stone fruit …” Steve frowns. “Oh! Nectarine?”

“Ha! Yep you got it.” James looks utterly pleased as he leans over to peck a kiss to his cheek. “Smart boy. You win."

Steve flushes at the words. “You don’t seem like a very sore loser.”

“There’s no bet I’d be happier to lose.” James heaves himself up off the couch with a deep sigh. “Alright, obligatory tour time?” He holds out his hand, and Steve is back to grinning like a fool as he lets his boyfriend show him around his intimidating—but also, really damn nice—house.

“It doesn’t feel very lived in,” Steve admits, as they’re changing into their swim trunks. James leads him to the back patio where there’s a hot tub sunken into the concrete. “I thought you said you spend a lot of time here?”

“I said I spend as much time as I can here. Which isn’t as much as I’d like.” James scoots over to sit beside him. “You know we didn’t actually have to wear swimsuits. We’re hours from the city.”

“So isolated. No neighbors at all?”

“Mm mn. Not for miles.”

“Wow. It’s strange to think that places like that even exist anymore.” Steve lays his head on James’ shoulder. “After a lifetime in Brooklyn, ya know? To think that there’s that much space left in the world for just two people?” He shakes his head. “S’crazy.”

“Yeah. But I like it.” James wraps an arm around his waist, holding him close. “It’s freeing, you know? You can just be yourself out here. Don’t have to worry about what anybody will think.”

“Think of what?” Steve asks, remembering how James has said similar things about enjoying privacy in the past. “Are you not out to your family, or something?”

James laughs. “No, not that. I’ve been out to everyone I know since med school. I just meant: in general, I find the seclusion relaxing. I don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors, or being too loud.” He squeezes Steve’s side playfully. “Or walking around butt naked if I want.”

Steve giggles. He pulls away from James in the water, turning to face him with a sly look. “Well, maybe you’re right then.” He slides out of his trunks and holds them up in show before tossing them away. They land with a wet 'splat' on the concrete. “Fuck swimsuits.”

James laughs in delight and copies him, tossing his shorts in the same direction. “Yeah, fuck ‘em.” They’re both laughing as he pulls Steve back in to straddle his lap, the water bubbling around them and mostly-obscuring their nudity. “Oh, Steve,” he sighs. “I’m so glad you let me bring you out here.” He reaches up and cups his jaw. “I really want to get to know you, intimately.” His thumb traces a tender path on Steve’s cheek. “It’ll be nice. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Yeah, it really will.”

They talk for what feels like hours, flirting and sipping cocktails and trading jokes. They share their opinions on stupid topics and meaningful ones, interspersed with the few quiet moments that happen when one of them works up the nerve to tell the other about some intimate detail from their life.

Steve confesses that he'd reached a low point, after his mom's death, and that he hadn't improved until he'd sought out therapy. James receives the information with sympathy, and then keeps his eyes averted as he admits that he’s been married, once before. “It didn’t last long,” he mumbles, looking rueful about it. “Less than a year.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says gently. “What happened?”

James shakes his head sadly. “He just wasn’t the one. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things and ... he left me."

Steve bites his lip, hating how sad James looks as he talks about it. He tries to lighten the mood by recounting the story of one hilariously bad date in recent memory. It gets James laughing again, which is a relief, and they fall back into the easy banter that seems to come so naturally to them. They’re both dog people. James prefers tea to coffee. Steve is a staunch murderer of houseplants. James fancies himself a gourmet cook.

“Yeah, you still have to prove that to me,” Steve teases as they head back inside, their discarded bathing suits left behind on the patio like shed skin.

James towels Steve off and pulls him into the bed, lying over him. “Oh, I'll prove it. Gonna cook you an amazing dinner tonight.” He dips down, kissing him gently. “But first, I think there’s a wager I lost that I need to make good on.” He kisses down Steve’s throat, his chest. “You want that?”

Steve squirms and nods, blood flowing south at just the thought of James’ beautiful mouth around his dick. “Yeah. Yeah, you definitely should. Don’t want to be a sore loser.”

“Definitely not. Especially since you’re such a gracious winner,” James continues kissing his way down, taking his time, big hands splayed out over ribs, caressing him. “Love your body, honey,” he murmurs against the pale skin of his stomach. He lets his hands slide further down, thumbs swiping over hip bones. “So sweet. So delicate.”

“Christ,” Steve complains, but James doesn’t let him get away with that.

“No. I mean it, Steven. Every part of you. You hear me?”

“Yeah yeah, I—” Steve inhales sharply as he’s suddenly enveloped in the wet heat of James’ mouth, not even very hard, yet. “Oh!”

“Mmhm,” James hums around his mouthful of rapidly-hardening dick. He sucks him gently, rubbing his hands over Steve’s hips, his belly, his sensitive inner thighs. He pops off and taps Steve’s cock against the flat of his tongue. “Feel good?”

Steve nods shakily. “Y-yeah. Yeah keep going. Please.”

James smiles and kisses his belly reverently, then takes him right back into his mouth. Even as Steve hardens all the way, James can still handle a lot, not choking even when Steve’s cock hits the back of his throat. Steve moans at a particularly strong suck. “James, yes,” he whispers, sliding his fingers into James' dark hair and holding him. “Oh, god …” A hand joins in, stroking while James lavishes attention at the head. He’s gentle in how he handles him, but utterly methodical. Steve’s hips kick up once James starts playing with his balls, and he whines near-desperately when a single finger ventures back to his asshole. “Oh fuck …”

James makes a pleased noise that reverberates all the way through Steve's cock and into his balls. He presses the tip of his finger in dry, takes him all the way down to the hilt—and swallows compulsively around the head of his dick.

Steve comes with a sudden cry, clinging to James helplessly as he spurts against his tongue. "Ah ah, ahnn ..." James hums and holds him and sucks him through it, only pulling off once Steve is shivering in oversensitivity. He lays his cheek on Steve’s stomach and waits him out while he recovers. “S-sorry,” Steve pants. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Eventually Steve’s breathing calms, and he opens his eyes again. He looks down at where James is resting against his stomach, his dark hair against Steve’s pale skin, mouth red and shiny with cum. “Fuck,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

James licks his lips clean, staring up at him. “And you’re delicious.” He climbs back up his body, dick hard and insistent where it drags a wet line across Steve’s belly. “Can I fuck you, Sweetheart?” he asks, the words sweeter than they have any right to be as he dips down and kisses him with the taste of cum still on his lips. “Is that okay? or are you too sensitive?”

Steve shivers, rolling his hips up even though his dick has gone soft. “No. No, you can,” he breathes, reaching down to take hold of James' cock and give it a squeeze. It's so hot and big, and the feeling of it throbbing against his palm makes arousal flare back to life in Steve’s belly. “Just … just go slow, yeah?”

James kisses him tenderly, promising, “Of course. Always. Hang on a sec.” He stretches away for the bedside drawer, and then his weight returns. He encourages Steve to roll over onto his front, gently maneuvering a pillow under his hips. “There you go,” he praises, running a hand down the center of his back, over his ass and then the back of one thigh. “God, Steve ... You’re a fucking wet dream, you know that?”

Steve huffs. “Yeah, sure.” He pulses down against the pillow, dick spent but still enjoying the sensation. He gasps when he suddenly feels James nosing between his cheeks. “Oh! Oh fuck, are you gonna —”

“Yeah,” James breathes out against his hole and grabs handfuls of his ass. He squeezes. “Oh, Baby. This fuckin’ peach of an ass." He kisses just below Steve’s tailbone and murmurs, “You’re so small but you got the roundest little ass I ever saw. You know that, Honey?”

Steve makes a tiny sound of protest, but then in the next second James is licking right over him, lapping and sucking at his hole like he can’t get enough. Steve grunts into the sheets and screws his eyes shut, panting at how good it feels. “God, ugh, James …”

James tongues and sucks at him, pulls away with the wettest, filthiest sound possible and growls, “Just want to eat this ass up.”

Steve cries out at the sharp pinch of teeth on his ass, but that sound bleeds into a groan when James sucks hard on the spot, almost certainly securing a bruise in Steve's future. “Fuck,” Steve pants quietly, grinding down against the pillow beneath his hips. He realizes he’s getting hard again just as James starts to really tongue fuck his hole—quick, dirty little jabs that make Steve clench and twitch, desperately aware of how much more he wants to feel. “James,” he gasps, mouth gone dry. He turns his head and pants. “James, oh, please. Please, come on.” He huffs and whines and tries to reach back, and James gets the hint.

He crawls up Steve’s body and seals his chest to Steve's back, kneeing his legs apart, laying his full weight into him. He kisses the nape of Steve's neck and slowly slides his hands all the way down the length of his arms, hands covering Steve's smaller ones at the very end. Steve groans at how good it feels.

“Oh, Daddy.”

He doesn’t mean to say it. It just slips out.

James is quiet for a heartbeat, feeling Steve's back tensing beneath him. He hums smugly and starts kissing and licking at his neck. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he coos. "You embarrassed, Princess? Just cause you like Daddy’s tongue in your ass? Does that get you real worked up?” Steve whines in mortification and James snickers. He licks along the shell of his ear. “Oh yeah, that’s what it is. You’re embarrassed cause you need Daddy to put something a little bigger up there, don'tcha? You need it, and you don’t want to have to ask.”

Steve moans weakly, tears nearly coming to his eyes at how easily James just accepted it, went with it. Fuck, he’s too good to be true. “Yes,” he whispers, pushing his ass back the little bit that he can, with James’ big body weighing him down. “Yeah Daddy, please.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay Baby,” James exhales shakily, as if this is getting to him just as much. “Anything you want, you know that? You can have it.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder and lubes up his fingers, dragging them right over Steve’s hole. “Relax for me, Honey. Just let me make you feel good.”

He presses in with two, slowly, and Steve gasps at the sudden pressure and the stretch. “Oh,” he pants quietly against the sheets, “Oh f-fuck ..."

“Okay?” James asks. He hooks his fingers and gives a slow drag out. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. His eyes are closed and his brow furrowed as he focuses on the feeling. “Fuck, yeah. It’s–it's good ... oh…”

James pushes back in. He starts up a slow but steady rhythm, fucking him softly on two fingers until Steve’s pressing back into it eagerly, ready enough for another. “Fuck, Honey,” he groans when Steve is clenching and moaning on three of his fingers, wet and loose and pushing back into it, crying out when he gets at his prostate just right. “You ready for my cock, baby?” James asks, already pulling his fingers out.

“Yeah,” Steve says, nodding eagerly and squirming. “Yeah. Condom?”

James hums and rolls his hips, sliding his dick through the slicked up valley of Steve’s ass. “I got tested,” he murmurs. “Don’t need one.”

“What? But—”

James hushes him with a kiss to his shoulder. “We don’t need one,” he whispers, reassuring him. “It’s fine.”

Steve whines, trying to think past the haze of his lust. “Yeah but I … I don’t think—”

James has propped himself up on one arm and is holding his dick with the other, guiding it where he wants it, rubbing the head against Steve’s hole. His knees spread Steve's legs wider, and Steve whimpers,

“Oh, w-wait,”

“Shhh.” James presses harder. His cock slips inside. “Theere we go.”

Steve’s breath catches at the feeling. “Fuck, oh …”

“Beautiful.” James falls back over him, body heavy and warm, cock sliding in in in, until his hips meet Steve's ass. "Oohyeah." He grinds into him and kisses his shoulder. “You’re okay,” he soothes, hips rocking just the barest bit, his cock huge and unrelenting where it's fully seated. “S'that good? Tell Daddy how it feels."

Steve whimpers and nods tightly, because it does feel good. It feels amazing. He loves this part, always has; the first few, overwhelming seconds of being penetrated, being taken. It’s so full, so much pressure inside that he can hardly stand it. “Y-yeah,” he says shakily, thinking about the condom, how James is bare up inside him right now. “S’big. Oh, fuck, James …”

“Yeah,” James says, moving against him in another, dirty grind. Then he seeks out Steve’s mouth and kisses him as he starts to fuck him softly.

And Steve kisses back, accepting the slide of James’ tongue and the hot push of his cock as the pleasure mounts. His cock throbs against the pillow and his insides begin to coil tighter and tighter, wanting more. He tries to fuck back harder, tries to wedge a hand underneath of himself, but James catches him in against his body and rolls them over, Steve still held captive against his chest. He hooks a heel over Steve's shin, curls a hand at the base of his neck. His other hand slides down his belly, bumping his cock but not reaching to take him in hand. He just holds him still while he keeps rolling his hips, fucking up into him languidly.

It’s frustratingly slow but it’s at the right angle. In fact it’s at such a fucking perfect angle, and the feeling of being trapped so thoroughly against James' body is so nice, that Steve starts to get close anyway. He cries out and begs, telling James how good it is, babbling at him, begging him for just a touch, just a little more. “I’m gonna cum, please. Ohgod, ohmygod ...” He reaches for himself, cries out loudly when James knocks his hand away, denying him with a breathy,

“Wait.”

“Please!” Steve hiccups, voice small and thready. He’s so close.

“You feel perfect, Steve,” James whispers, kissing the side of his head. “Feels so fucking good for me, inside of your body. D’you know that?” He rolls his hips deep and stays buried up in him, finally wraps his hand around Steve’s cock.

Steve sobs and thrashes against him. “Oh, please! Uhn, ah ah—”

“You beg so pretty, Honey.” James holds him tighter at the neck and strokes him off—so tight and slow. It’s so good, so close but not enough ...

“I–I need,” Steve gasps,

“Shshsh, I know, I know. You’re so close, aren’t you Baby?” James is hardly thrusting now, just grinding his cock inside Steve while he jerks him off. “So close,” he whispers. “You can almost taste it.” He flicks his tongue over the shell of Steve’s ear and Steve sobs.

He nods against the hand on his neck, relishing the way that he’s being held so tight, controlled so completely, coaxing words whispered right into his skin, working him closer and closer to the edge. Fuck, there really are tears in his eyes now. “P-please,” he begs wetly. “Oh.”

“It’s okay,” James coos, squeezing his cock even harder and going faster, knuckling under the head on every stroke. It’s enough, finally. Oh. “Let me feel you now, Honey. Right on my dick. Let Daddy feel it happen.”

It's that knuckle under the head that does it; that, and Bucky's voice purring reassuring filth in his ear. Steve grunts as his orgasm breaks inside, that high tide of pleasure finally tipping over and crashing so good that it hurts. “Oh, god, ohfuck ...” He seizes in James’ hold, voice sticking in his throat as he goes silent and shoots off hard, pulsing and pulsing with it. So fucking good.

James groans and curses beneath him. He wraps both of his huge arms around Steve’s middle and holds him like a sex doll while he ruts into him, chasing his own climax until he’s coming, too. He fucks him through it, until his cum is slipping back out around his slowing thrusts and his softening dick, their bodies messy and wet. “Fuck,” he pants hotly against the back of Steve’s neck. “Steve.”

Steve whines at the feeling when James pulls out, the rest of his cum following a second later. “Oh god. Ugh.”

James chuckles and moves him on the bed. He lies over him, one leg thrown over Steve’s and a hand cradling his face. "C'mere, you."

They kiss, long and slow, lips dragging softly together. James hums and speaks without pulling away. “Well, that was amazing.”

“Yeah.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. “Come here. Put your head on my chest. Lemme hold you.”

Steve obeys, turning into James and wrapping an arm over his middle, while he thinks about the cum he can still feel leaking out of his ass.

He’d tried to stop it, had felt wrong going bare when they hadn’t talked it over first. He bites his lip, unsure how to say anything now without ruining the afterglow. Maybe he can’t.

“I love making love to you, Steve,” James says quietly, tracing fingertips along his spine. “You’re so beautiful. Perfect.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, smiling a little because he’s just been fucked probably better than he ever has in his whole entire life.

... Even if James did ignore him about the condom, it was still fucking amazing.

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[crows-home]

Haven't listened to the podcast but I heard about it and I haven't stopped laughing i have the biggest grin on my face. anyway. here's an excerpt of the next chapter because the news of today made me want to share :)

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Shadow wouldn’t have noticed if Sonic hadn’t lost traction and plunked into a lake during their fight.

It isn’t even a satisfying end. Shadow really would have liked to punch the hedgehog into the dirt some more. God knows Sonic deserved it, running his mouth and exuding this air of smug arrogance that was just begging to be taken down a peg. But Sonic always acts so pathetic when he’s soggy, it takes the fun out of it.

So here he is, watching as Sonic hauls himself out of the lake like a desperate moron (he’d be better at it if he would just practice) Sonic coughs up water and shakes himself out, shivering.

“This is my win, then.” Shadow’s not above rubbing it in.

“Huh?” Sonic looks up. “No way!”

“You were down for a whole two seconds.” Shadow points out. “Ergo, I win.”

“That doesn’t count! I only fell ‘cause I tripped on your legs!”

“Yes, I caused you to fall. Which makes it my win.”

Sonic makes some noise between a whine and a groan, flopping down like the sore loser he is. Shadow smirks. This isn’t the most honorable victory, but he’ll take it.

He’s already gearing up to leave when Sonic shoves his shoes off, and Shadow spots his socks.

“What the-?!” He chokes.

“Wha?”

Shadow points. “Your socks.” Sonic only frowns, and Shadow says, with even more exasperation, “They’re falling apart!”

Sonic blinks stupidly and looks back down at his feet. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

God, they’re almost in tatters. The heels are nonexistent, and he can see toes. Shadow turns up his nose.

“Why?”

“...Why?”

Shadow has to restrain himself from walking over and wringing Sonic’s neck.

“Why are your socks like that? How are they like that?”

“I’ve had these for years! It’s just wear and tear that comes with age!” Sonic gesticulates with his foot, like he's making a point. This just makes the wet fabric flop around, highlighting the way it sags, too loose at the ankles.

“Hedgehog, they’re unusable!”

“Psh,” Sonic scoffs and finishes taking them off. “They’re fine. And they’re comfy.”

“Just buy new socks!”

“No! Then it’ll take ages to break them in. And the elastic is always so itchy. These are fine.”

“No they are not!”

“Sorry my taste in foot covering isn’t as pristine as yours,” Sonic rolls his eyes, says it in this mocking tone that gets right under his skin. Sonic knows it does, the bastard, and he grins. “It bothers you that much? Whatever, you and your sensitive fur wouldn’t last a day in these, mister twelve step skin care-”

He doesn’t get to finish. Shadow’s already hurtling towards him and knocking him back into the lake.

[philhoffman]

Missed my Monday Philm and this guy while on vacation last week, so I decided to watch something special tonight. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007), with the commentary track featuring director Sidney Lumet and stars PSH and Ethan Hawke. It's one of the few tracks Phil did that I hadn't listened to before—I think it might be the last one I had yet to hear? So, it's bittersweet—good to hear his voice (he must've had a cold, he was coughing so much; yawning, his big laughs; the way you can almost hear his silence, the absence of his voice hanging in the air) but sad to be another step closer to seeing all there is to see.

The last time I watched BTDKYD a few months ago, I mentioned something about how difficult it is to write about this film, for obvious and personal reasons alike. The raw emotion and intensity and explicit drug use and blood squeezed into this film make it a hard watch. But the last couple days I've felt I'm in a safe and solid enough place to do some reflection and healing and to generally work through a couple of the many complicated feelings I have about addiction and grieving Phil's death. This is clearly one of the pieces most directly tied to those struggles.

So closely tied, actually, that it used to leave me despondent. The car scene alone—unbearable, until I heard Sidney Lumet (in a behind-the-scenes short) describing the technical and practical and artistic choices that went into creating it. It really helped to hear how Phil, as an actor, helped shape that scene. Just a reminder, as simple as it sounds, that it's "not real."

I figured the commentary track would help ease that feeling for the whole movie, and for a large part it did! Sidney Lumet sure was something, lmao. You get to know people very quickly and on a curious level when you watch a film with them, as these tracks simulate. Ethan Hawke is brilliant and so thoughtful and poetic, he is truly a gem not just as an actor but an artist and member of humanity. Phil mumbles. I am so in love with his mind—I think that's part of the reason he's been my person so intensely for so long now. He isn't as effortlessly eloquent as Ethan, but you can hear the gears turning as he thinks and speaks, you can almost reach out and solidly grasp the ideas he is struggling to form and push and shove out of his mind. It helps that we have many of the same tastes and he's shaped my own artistic perspective so much, but he has such a grip on profound truths—they stumble out of his mouth almost accidentally, inconsequentially, as if they don't shift my worldview.

Commentary quick hits below the cut

Watching the opening scene: "I'm mum. I'm silent at this part."

They all kind of lose their breath for a moment when Marisa is on screen (her and Ethan's nude scene) and Phil breaks the tension by saying he was breathless because of Ethan being naked pls

Phil is definitely the quietest. Lumet goes on and on about absolutely nothing related to the film, Ethan steers them back, Phil coughs and says something about eating strawberries and at one point is 100% not paying attention 😭 They're talking about Katharine Hepburn and Phil is so zoned out he goes "Who?"

He's not extremely forthcoming. He said something striking (and obviously in hindsight, devastating) about Andy's drug use during that graphic injection scene but otherwise he let Lumet do most of the talking.

Apparently there was a contest to be an extra in this movie??? Why didn't I know about that? (I was under 10 years old when it was filmed)

Lumet said there were times when he got nervous because Phil's acting was so organic and powerful and raw—the vein popping out of his forehead, slamming his fist onto the table, the violence in the final couple scenes.

What Phil said earlier about drug use was upsetting but I was fine. Then, when Hank's tween daughter calls him a loser, Phil (a dad to two toddlers at the time) laughs and says "Oh man, is that what's coming?" I had to physically shake that one off. Fuck man

There was total silence during the whole car scene. Neither Phil nor Ethan nor Lumet said a word. That isn't unheard of for a commentary track but it's not common either—just goes to show how staggering that performance is. Stunned silence.

Phil told a story about how he used to fall asleep before wrestling matches as a kid and still dozes off in his dressing room before stage performances because of his anxiety he's just like me <3

Every time I try to wrap this film up in a neat bow it ends up an incoherent mess. I think that's okay for now. But I do wish there were more commentary tracks to listen to. It's nice to watch movies with Phil. I wish there was a PSH commentary track for every film I've ever seen.

[queenoats]

smth wrong w/ ppl that don’t like crj... get a life loser...

[goodnightsimmers]

Episode 6 - Strike

Over the next few days, Finn had gone the extra mile to make Serena feel like the only girl on the planet. At work, he brewed her coffee, bought her lunch from the stand across the street, gave her kisses when no one was looking, and spent his breaks listening to her vent about all the work Kolton had started giving her. The two grew closer and agreed to go out Friday night. They were both excited and nervous to see where their newfound relationship would take them.

Thursday evening, Serena invited Janet to the mall. She needed her advice on what to wear for her first date with Finn. She still had no idea where they were going or what they were going to do. All she knew was that she had to look GOOD.

Janet held up a skimpy top with jewels embroidered on the sleeves. It had a low cut and was a little too revealing for Serena’s liking.

Serena: You don’t think that’s too much?

Janet: You mean sexy? His jaw will drop when he sees you.

Serena: Exactly. I don’t want that. I want him to smile when he sees me.

Janet: In that case, wear those overalls you have stashed in your closet. That’ll make him smile. You’ll probably get a laugh out of him also.

Serena gave Janet a playful shove.

Serena: *laughing* Come on Jan, be serious!

Janet: I am!!

Serena was about to give up hope when she came across a bright pink skirt with a velvet feel. She took the skirt off the hanger and held it against her hips.

Serena: What about this? I know I have something in my closet that’ll look good with it.

Janet: Well, well, well. Looks like you do have good taste in fashion!

Janet gave Serena a high five and together they walked to the counter to pay.

The next night, Serena got ready and put on her favorite perfume. Anytime she wore Good Girl by Carolina Herrera, she would get compliments from both genders. There was a knock at the door. That must be him. She took one last look in the mirror before going to open the door. There he was. Finn looked relaxed yet very handsome. He was dressed in a pink flannel and nice jeans. Serena was glad she didn’t take Janet’s outfit suggestions and went with something more subtle. Finn took Serena’s hand and walked her to the car.

Finn: *smiling* You look amazing, you know that?

Once they were in the car, conversation was easy. Butterflies were still flying around in Serena’s stomach, but she felt a certain ease when she was with him, as if she could be herself. Eventually the car pulled up to a neon-colored building. Where are we? Finn stepped out of the car and walked around to open Serena’s door.

Finn: Hope you know how to bowl.

Serena: Me? Bowl? Psh. I’m a pro.

Finn: *laughing* I thought you said you were good at bowling!

Serena: I am!

Finn: You’re using bumpers. You’re cheating!

Serena: *laughing* Oh quit crying, you’re still in the lead.

Finn: Okay let’s make a bet. Loser has to cook the winner a meal. And hey, I’ll even let you use bumpers.

Serena: It’s on!

Serena and Finn continued their game, but in the end Finn won. The two hugged and finished up their drinks they had ordered before leaving the bowling alley.

Once they returned to Serena’s apartment, Serena made a casserole dish and poured them some drinks. She was having so much fun she didn’t realize just how late it was getting. Time just flew when she was with Finn. After dinner, Serena and Finn brought their drinks to the living room and put on Netflix. She laid her head on his lap while he played with her hair and within minutes Serena fell asleep. She felt so comfortable and so right being next to him. She just hoped he felt the same way.

[raccoonhearteyes]

“Here try this,” Clarke leaned over the center console in her car, handing Lexa a blue drink. Lexa examined the bottle, reading the bright yellow letters that said ‘lemonade’ and '250mg THC’ on it. “What is it?” The brunette popped the lid off the bottle with a satisfying 'pop’. She pulled the bottle back again, letting her green eyes wander around the label again. “Blueberry lemonade?” She questioned before shrugging and taking a large gulp. “Be careful!” Clarke shouted a little too late. “Its potent as hell.” The blue eyed girl noted as she watched her girlfriend cough. Clarke reached over and grabbed the bottle before taking a small sip. She pursed her lips at the taste. “Jesus fuck I didn’t realize just how strong it would taste.” The blonde looked over at Lexa and eyed her. “Give it a minute.” She smiled and leaned back in her seat. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one of these before,” Lexa took the glass bottle from Clarkes hand and took another sip. “Other than the nasty after taste from the THC it’s really not that bad.” The brunette smiled and put the bottle in the cup holder. “Are we doing halvsies with it or…?” She trailed off. Clarke shot up in her seat. “What? Half? Dude there’s so much in there. That’s like 10 edibles! You’re a light weight.” “Psh like you aren’t,” Lexa grabbed the bottle again and took another big sip. “DUDE!” Clarke quickly grabbed the bottle from the brunettes hand and held it away. “You’re going to have a trip of a life time I fucking swear when you’re high as shit you better not be panicking or so help me Lexa I will kick your ass if you complain and ruin my moment.” Clarke took a big sip, but not as big as Lexas. Lexa shrugged and leaned back in her chair, “You offered it!” She rubbed her nose and rolled her window down, looking at the other cars and people walking by. “I think I’m feeling it.” Clarke snorted, “Its been like thirty seconds. You’re a light weight but it doesnt mean it’s going to hit immediately.” “Fool! I know that!” Lexa continued to look outside. “Fuck I’m thirsty.” She looked around in Clarkes compact car for something to drink. Stumbling upon a half empty water bottle, the brunette grabbed it. “My mouth is so dry how is yours not dry? Like what the fuck dude I’m so thirsty.” Lexa opened the bottle and chugged the water. “Water is a god holy shit people need to know about water. Do people know about water? We should start a cult about water!” Lexa opened the car door. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to look at the blonde in driver seat. “Are… are you really high right now? What?” Clarke was looking over Lexa. “Holy shit dude you’re so high right now!” She laughed, tears streaming from her blue eyes. “Fuck dude that was so fast!” Clarke paused for a second. “Man I feel my fingers. Do you feel your fingers?” Clarke grabbed her girlfriends hand and pressed their fingertips together. “You do have fingers… man I want some pickles.” Lexas green eyes widened with a toothy smile plastered against her face, “pickles! Yes!” Lexa quickly hopped out of the car, her shoes softly landing on the pavement. “Can we get water? Water is a God send. Shit is bomb. Have you had water? We should start a water cult!” Lexa smiled proudly at the thought. “Yes we can get water if you stop talking about a cult,” Clarke locked the cars doors and walked over to Lexa. “Dude, babe give me your hand.” Clarke eagerly reached out and grabbed the brunettes hand. “Fingers.” She said, content. “Its like I’m you but I’m also me… but I’m also you. Do you feel me?” “Yeah I understand you,” Lexa stared deeply at her blonde girlfriend. “That was so deep.” Her eyes started watering. “I’m thirsty!” Clarke suddenly announced. “Water cult! Water cult!” “Shut up with that already you dingus!” “Dont be fucking rude! Let’s get pickles already.” The two girls headed into the store, hand in hand. Inside the store was bright, almost too bright. The kind of bright drowns out the darkness or light outside. “Pickles! Pickles!” Clarke was shouting as she headed into a random direction. “Wait I dont want to get lost!” Lexa stumbled over her own two feet as she hurried towards Clarke. “Oh minty gum.” Lexa suddenly stopped and looked at a kiosk in the middle of an aisle. “Babe we’re here for pickles and water not gum.” Clarke rolled her eyes and smiled at the green eyed girl. “Oh pickles!” Lexa smiled and rushed towards Clarke again. “I am so here for the pickles!” The look on Lexas face was determined. “My mouth is dry is your mouth dry? I’m thirsty. Can we start a water cult?” She turned towards the blonde girl next to her. “We are here for two things…” Clarke abruptly stopped talking in the middle of her sentence. “Wait! We’re going the wrong way.” She suddenly turned and headed down a different aisle. “I fucking found them dude!” She looked at the pickles with a glisten in her eye. “Oh pickles…” Lexa picked up a jar and put her hand in her pocket. “Wait I dont have my wallet?” She put the jar very gently on the ground and smiled at herself before reaching back into her pocket. She started to panicked, unable to find the object that held her purchasing devise. “Clarke! Wallet!” She stopped. “I can feel my face.” Lexa smiled. “Dude, babe, Lexa, my love,” Clarke started. “I dont have my wallet either.” “No…” Lexa let out softly. She brought her lips to Clarkes ear. “Maybe if we ask them nicely to stay here we can go get monies for the pickles. Sshhh dont tell her we forgot the cash money.” Clarke giggled at Lexas hot breath on her ear. “Did you call the pickles a her?” “YES MA'AM!” Lexa shouted very furiously. “Unless the pickles feel differently.” She looked at the pickles on the ground and squatted. “Whatever you feel like is you. You do you booboo.” She smiled and patted the top of the jar. Clarke started laughing causing tears to stream down her face. “I’m with the biggest stoned nerd I have ever met.” Clarke snorted loudly and hunched over, clutching her stomach. “You’re fucking funny! Keep talking. I need more.” She continued, laughing. “What? Pickles are pickles they can be whatever their heart desires!” Lexa felt her cheeks start to burn. “Whatever we need money to exchange for the pickles to go in mah belly!” Lexa stood up and started walking towards the exit. “I’m leaving! Bye loser!” She shouted as she walked away from clarke. “What?” Clarke realized her girlfriend had left without her. “We might get lost! Let’s hold hands! I want to become one again!” The blonde shouted as she ran towards the brunette. “Wait I’m lost,” Lexa looked around. “Wait we’re standing right by the exit.” Clarke only smiled and held Lexas hand. 'We are one’ she thought feeling the warmth between the two of them. Once outside the two girls looked around. “Babe… why did we stop?” Clarke looked at Lexa. “God you’re so pretty.” Lexa giggled and ran a hand through her hand, “I forgot where you parked.” “What?” Clarke looked around, slightly panicked. “Where the fuck did I park?” She let go of Lexas hand and looked around the parking lot. “Oh wait I’m over there.” She pointed in the direction of her car. Upon reaching the car they sat down inside it. “Fuck I’m thirsty dude,” Lexa licked her lips. “Oh drink!” She picked up the bottle of 'lemonade’. “Lexa no!” Clarke shouted but it was too late. “What?” Lexa looked at the bottle. “This shit is nasty what is this?” She questioned before realizing what she had just done.“Oh I fucked up… oh no Clarke! I drank more oh my god I am going to die from weed! I drank so much because i am a thirsty ho!” “Hey just calm down,” Clarke took a deep breath in. “Just breathe.” She exhaled loudly through her mouth. “Breathe my baby girl.” “Say that again.” “Say what?” Clarke put her hand on Lexas arm. “Call me 'baby girl’ again. It gives me the feels.” “What?” “Never mind.” Lexa mumbled and sank back into her seat, taking another sip of the drink. “DUDE!” Clarke grabbed the bottle and put it down. “Stop drinking this or you’ll fucking be deflated!” “That lemonade is nasty.” “THATS BECAUSE ITS TECHINCALLY AN EDIBLE!” “Woah… am I high?” Lexa held her hands up in front of her face before bursting into laughter. “Fuck I am so high arent I? I’m thirsty.” “Oh yeah! We’re here for wallets for foods and services.” Clarke smiled at her, proud that she remembered what their original plan was. “Yes mother fucker! Pickles and mother fucking water!” Lexa jumped out of the car as fast as she could, smiling. “I am a thirsty people! Les go!” She started off towards the store, a slight pep in her step. “Wait!” Clarke quickly grabbed Lexas wallet and ran towards her girlfriend. “Wait let me hold your hand. I want to feel you.” The blonde reached out to grab Lexas hand. “We are one.” Lexa said when she intertwined her fingers with Clarkes. “Your hand is sweaty.” Clarke commented, glancing at their hands. “Yeah well you be higher than mount fucking Everest and tell me your hands arent sweaty.” “Is there vomit on your sweater already?” “What? No, Clarke. I’m not wearing a sweater it’s like 500 billion fucking degrees out here.” Lexa started laughing uncontrollably. “You were making a joke. Sorry.” She said stifling a laugh. “How long have we been walking around for?” Clarke looked around at the people. “I… don’t… know…” Lexa kept pausing in between each word. “Buuuuut… I want to feel that shirt over there.” She pointed at a random blue shirt on a hanger and walked up to it. Lexa hummed as she rubbed her fingers on the fabric. “Okay! I am satisfied! I am still thirsty though.” She looked at Clarke. “Woter.” “What?” “Woter.” Clarke just looked blankly at Lexa. “Woter.” “Ooohhh… ha… you mean water.” “Yes my smart girlfriend!” Clarke beamed at the compliment. They headed off in a random direction and stopped an employee for directions to the pickles. “Yo if you stay here we’ll buy you balloons!” Lexa smiled and tried to shake the persons hand. “Just stay here. Okay? Stay! Thank you! But stay!” Lexa held her hands out and slowly backed up. “Stay!” She smiled when she noticed the employee standing right where they were. “Pickles!” Clarke shouted as they found the aisle. “Fuck yeah!” She started fist pumping and carefully grabbed a jar. “Gotta be careful with these babies!” She bit her lip in concentration. “Woter!” “Its fucking water say it normal you fart!” Clarke adjusted the pickle jar, holding it like a baby. Lexa didnt notice the slight insult. They wandered around for a few more minutes before accidentally stumbling upon the water. “I got this!” Lexa flexed before grabbing a case of water. She grunted as she lifted it up and hoisted it on her shoulder. “I am strong! Fear me!” “Okay whatever miss commander,” Clarke rolled her eyes at her girlfriend trying to show off. Slight panic came across Lexas face, “My Wally!” “Why are you weird? I have your wallet.” Clarke carefully pulled it out of her back pocket. Lexa just nodded and headed off towards a cash register. “Hello my good fellow human! I am here for the goods and services if you do not mind assisting us! We will be oh so humbled!” “Yes! We have a purchasing device that is made for your goods and pickles.” Clarke beamed and handed the employee Lexas debit card. “Uh…” the employee started. “You can just swipe your card here.” He pointed at the pin pad. “Oh! Yes my good fellow person!” Clarke stuck her tongue out in concentration and slowly swiped Lexas card for the transaction. The loud beeping noise caused Lexa to jump back, nearly dropping the water. “Why did it yell at us? What did we do?” Lexa questioned in panic. “That’s just the noise it makes,” the employee eyed the two girls. “Recipt?” “Sir no ma'am we are not cooking! Just water and pickles for us THANKS!” Lexa started towards the exit. Clarke quickly followed behind. “Water! Water! Water!” Lexa chanted as they walked towards Clarkes car. “That was a fucking great adventure. Let’s do it again!” Lexa sat down in the blondes car, placing the water on her lap. Clarke sat down in the driver seat and opened the pickles. “Here take one!” She held the jar up to Lexa eagerly waiting for her to take a pickle. Lexa grabbed one from the jar and took a huge bite. “Hm… taste like plastic.” She said in between crunches. “What the fuck?” Clarke looked at her taking her own bite of a pickle. “Mother fucking delicious!" 

_______ 

I couldn’t help myself lol sorry it’s kind of long I just had a little bit of fun writing it :D I typed it up on my phone so sorry for any and all typos 

[septic-skele]

UT - Touch and Go

Summary:  Today is just like any other day. Papyrus intends to go about his business as usual—never mind his strange fatigue, or his terrible headache, or his voice giving out when he coughs. He'll deny anything is wrong until he can't anymore.

Papyrus awoke feeling strangely…slow-motion. His eye sockets felt gluey as they pried open, bones sluggish as he shifted with a raspy sigh. The first big stretch was a relief, untangling his legs from the blankets and cracking a long row of joints, but the next step was to muster himself and leap up for the day.

Which he did not do, to his own groggy surprise. Within seconds of waking up, his brilliant mind ought to be brimming with notions of chores, puzzles, friendship-making conversation topics. Due to all of this mental activity, he had never gotten much sleep; he was used to catching only fitful snatches of it, but he must have caught a few…fewer last night. Should that bother him?

His bed was so welcoming, so warm—warm enough that his magic was slightly sticky, in fact, radiating under the covers. It held a pleading invitation: snuggle down, stay cozy for just a little while longer.

The fleeting time he spent to consider it would have to suffice. It was sure to be a beautiful day outside and the great Papyrus was not one to waste it! No more wallowing about! Thus decided, he flung the blankets back, sparing just a second to give his bedframe a fond pat as thanks for its offer of comfort and support.

His legs creaked as he rose, still resistant, so he stretched again, popping his ankles and toes for good measure before shoving them into his boots. He would need to put a little more backbone into his morning run. Only because Sans wasn’t there to see, he chuckled at the thought, swallowing a dry tickle that surfaced with it.

Gloves, firmly tugged! Scarf, expertly wrapped! (It was oddly chilly in here. Not something Papyrus was prone to notice, yet he noticed today.) His battle body was heavy on his shoulders and spine, heavy with the weight of responsibility. He had to be ready for anything.

The household chores were simple enough, though Papyrus could feel those minutes he’d spent lollygagging now pressing at his back. Today of all days, when a human finally arrived and he found glory and honor in their capture, he couldn’t afford to be late! If he only started one load of laundry and skimped ever so slightly on brushing crumbs from Sans’ side of the couch, no one would notice.

He had no lungs to be out of breath as he set up the pot for breakfast. The illusion of his gasping was probably just nervous energy from his reserves to keep him alert. While useful for a potential battle later, it did prove distracting. The steam fogging his battle body made him fidget, abruptly aware of the damp heat and the ill-fit places it pinched.

Patrol would offer him plenty of time in the nice, cool weather, he reminded himself patiently. And perhaps if all went well, King Asgore would soon award him a splendorous suit of armor like Undyne’s.

The spaghetti hissed and spat irritably, breaking him out of his thoughts. As he hurriedly stirred, he found himself coming to a sinking realization. These noodles didn’t…sit right, somehow. They didn’t create that pleasant curl of satisfaction in his nonexistent stomach. Was it right to say that he felt not hungry at the sight of them?

Well, it was only because the standards he set for his breakfast were so high! He could make an even better batch later. For now, he could safely assume Sans, compliant as he was, would eat this anyway. It was about time he got up.

“Broth—!” Papyrus began, startled as a few sharp coughs broke him off. With a slight wince he cleared his tight throat and turned down the stovetop. The steam must have grown too thick. “Brother! Rise and shine, you lazybones! I, Papyrus, have concocted a delicious breakfast as a great start to your day! I won’t see you missing out!”

As much as he loved the sound of his own voice, its reverb stirred an unfamiliar song in his head—a plodding set of drums that tromped just behind his eye sockets. He didn’t care much for the beat, but he could rationalize that it was better than Sans’ trombone.

The song continued its pace as he rolled his brother out of bed and spooned up a plateful for him. Because it was more polite to dine in company, he relented and took a bite or two himself.

It was…an experience! he decided, his smile wrenching. One he might have lived his life bereft of, if he hadn’t taken a brave step to try new things! Sans was less adventurous, sucking a single noodle through his teeth.

“Wow, Pap. That’s really something,” he admitted, and for once Papyrus could see that Sans was doing him a kindness by saying so little.

It was something. A pulpy, slimy something that seemed to get tangled up in Papyrus’ mouth the more he chewed. To the rhythm of the drums his jaw twinged for mercy, but nothing bested Papyrus, certainly not something of his own creation.

“Well,” he mustered as he finally got it down, gripping the edge of the table to help himself to his feet. “A sampler is more than enough for me to savor this unique taste. Humans wait for no scheduled meals. I need to get an early start.”

One of the noodles must have tickled the right bone; he muffled another cough against his glove, trying to dislodge the new little ball of pressure sitting behind his breastbone.

Surprisingly Sans perked up at the noise. “You okay?”

“Nyeheh. I’m more than ‘okay’; you of all people know that I am great.” It was a common response; even if he didn't give it his usual gusto, the familiarity would ease his brother’s mind.

Idly twirling his fork around his plate, Sans watched Papyrus shove the pot of leftovers into the fridge with the rest. He didn’t inquire again, which must mean he was properly reassured. There was no reason to fear in the first place. Papyrus would be great regardless of any challenges!

The frigid air seeping from the refrigerator felt lovely, even if it made him shudder. He lingered there, letting it wash over his sore joints until he recalled: Creaky. Exercise to shake it off.

“Finish your plate, Sans,” he urged distractedly, rubbing down his stiff forearms as he left. (How Sans finished the plate—perhaps with the assistance of the sink disposal—he left intentionally vague.)

The jog through town took longer than Papyrus cared to admit. He was pacing himself. It had nothing to do with the battle body slamming against his collarbone or the drumbeat matching his every step, and it certainly had nothing to do with an almighty slipping and crashing as snow shifted to ice underneath him.

A singular wave of pain had rippled through his body, paralyzing him where he lay sprawled on his back. Had he landed somewhere more discreet, he would have been perfectly content to stay there until the throbbing subsided. It was only the snickering of the nearby teenagers that urged him frantically back to his feet.

“It was deliberate!” he blustered, voice cracking. “It was…” He might have come up with some cover story about wanting to see them laugh, using a pratfall as lowbrow humor to cheer them, but without any warning the snowflakes were dotted with dizzying grays and blacks. Swaying, he trailed off and focused instead on regaining his posture.

“You alright, dear? That looked like quite a tumble!” the shopkeeper remarked as she passed.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine!” he stammered, so loud, teeth clacking in some attempt at a grin. “Nothing brings the great Papyrus down for long! A-As for my tumbling, I must give it 110% of my effort, as I give everything else!”

With that he soldiered on, slush making itself at home in his boots. It wasn’t miserable, just uncomfortable enough. He wasn’t used to temperature having such an effect on him; skeletons weren’t meant to notice it. How could his magic be buzzing with the chill when his ribs and spine felt so trapped and clammy in his chest plate? Just as quickly as the thought occurred to take it off, it was smacked away. Ridiculous. He was on the job! He couldn’t be seen as anything less than professional!

That fall had disoriented him. He shot down the muffled voice of Sans in the back of his head giving rise to a pun about being “rattled.” It was far overused but it would have been a good descriptor nonetheless. His footing wobbled now with the unsteady rise and fall of the snowdrifts around him, but he didn’t let it stop him. By the time he reached his puzzle, his equilibrium had settled to a low seesawing.

Gaze sweeping the work ahead of him, he let out a low, hoarse breath. Perhaps with peace and quiet to address his passion project, he could settle his jittery nerves.

“Ohhh, it’s you. Took you long enough to get here and help me!”

Ah. Jerry.

“I have, like, no idea how this puzzle works,” the lumpy monster complained before Papyrus could even think of a greeting. “I don’t have fifty hands! What, are you supposed to bring fifty more people along to activate all those switches at once? As if!”

The wormy gesticulating of his arms was already reminding Papyrus of that bad mouthful at breakfast. Swallowing a sour essence, he decided to take Jerry’s words as backhanded praise and hiked his wan smile up a little. “Yes, it is quite a conundrum, isn’t it? A human will surely be flummoxed by my ingenuity.”

“I don’t care about that! It’s totally in the way.”

“Yes, that…that hasn’t escaped my notice either. That is the intention: to ensure a human may go no further so I, the great Papyrus, can capt—”

“Psh, why even bother, though? A human’s probably never gonna fall down here anyway; basically all your loser puzzles are doing is making life harder for the rest of us! I’m just trying to get from point A to point B. The wi-fi’s better over there! If you were actually good at these things, you’d pass around, like, solution guides for monsters or set up some kind of invisible trap so it wouldn’t be such an eyesore…”

Never one to turn down feedback, Papyrus nodded along, trying to make mental notes of his critique, but as the comments went on and on, Jerry’s grating voice turned the drumbeat in his skull into a full marching band.

“I shall take stock of such things the moment I get the chance!” he spoke out over the din at last, eye sockets twitching in the effort not to grimace. “You said before that you required my aid?”

“Well, duh! You built the thing, didn’t you? Solve it for me so I can get by!”

Papyrus didn’t overlook how the other Snowdin residents reacted to Jerry’s presence—negatively, by all measures. Even Sans did more than a fair share of muttering and eye-rolling at Jerry’s antics, but Papyrus was a gracious and tolerant monster. More than that, he felt a sort of kinship with him. Being an outcast was a lonely affair and Papyrus was certain that he and Jerry both had unseen potential that recognition, kindness and friendship could reveal in time.

That being said, Papyrus was distinctly not at peak friendship ability today.

“You know how to solve your own puzzle, don’t you?” Jerry sneered.

“Obviously! As you said yourself, I am the mastermind behind it!” he shot back with just a flash of indignation. “Come, come, witness the mystifying genius that I’ve laid befo—” He coughed. “Before—” He coughed again, twice, thrice. As that one caught, it wrenched the next out before its time, which triggered the one after that. Before he quite realized what was happening, he was almost doubled over, hacking into his gloves. Jerry, for his part, recoiled in disgust.

“Eww, dude! Wash your hands!” he spat hypocritically, scurrying back the way he had come.

For the first time Papyrus wished that he was a monsterkind equipped with lungs. If he had been, perhaps he could have made better use of the broken wheezes he snatched. Drawing too much air too soon only scratched at his throat and he gagged again. It was a relentless loop of gasping, then gagging, and his eye sockets were on fire. Come to think of it, every bone in his body was burning.

“Bro?”

“S—” he croaked. He wasn’t sure if he stumbled toward or away from Sans’ voice; the gray and black snowflakes had returned, blotting out his vision.

Perhaps he was already falling and hadn’t noticed or Sans was taking preventative measures, but a blue tug on his soul caught fast and helped him down to the ground without another rough impact. For that he was grateful. Next nimble fingers were on the seams of his battle body, collapsing it away from his shoulders, but even that relief didn’t help him settle the fit.

“S’s—!”

“Shh, shh, shh. Don’t try to talk,” Sans ordered, torn between patting or rubbing circles into his back. “Geez, you’re burning up. In through the nasal bone…In, in…And hold it, as long as you can. Cover your mouth if that helps you keep that breath, okay? And…out. Let it out slow.”

Papyrus’ shoulders lurched violently as he struggled to choke back the next cough laced into his exhale. In a blurry panic he shook his head, water stinging his eyes.

“I know, Pap, I know. Slowly. In…and hold. Long as you can. The cough’ll calm down as soon as you do. Freaking out makes it worse. In…Hold it.” His hand went still against Papyrus’ spine, bracing him as he trembled. “I’ve gotcha.”

It would be comforting if it weren’t so humiliating! Wild thoughts scattered through his thundering skull. What if other monsters came along and saw him like this, unable to wrest back control? What if the teenagers laughed? What if he just couldn’t make it stop?

Forget the humiliation. Sans’ palm was comforting. It stayed right there with him as he dragged in a real breath and strangled it into submission. His soul was racing.

“…And out,” his brother coaxed. He obeyed, slowly, slowly, like a balloon deflating from a tiny pinprick. It took three more attempts, almost four, before the raging fire in his ribs surrendered, dying down into bitter crackling.

Blinking stars from his vision, Papyrus sat in an exhausted, shivering haze. Sans was staring at him expectantly, perhaps wondering if he needed to put any more effort into this.

“You’ve done enough. I’m okay now,” Papyrus wanted to say, but only the faintest trickle of noise petered out.

Furthermore, if he had to be honest…he wasn’t okay.

About time he surrendered too.

He slumped, tiredly hoping, and Sans blessedly obliged, shuffling sideways to support Papyrus’ head against his shoulder. His jacket smelled less than terrific, but the fluff and padding were nice against his flushed cheekbone. The cool fingers scratching gently at the back of his neck helped too, soothing its whiplashed sensation.

“I’ve gotcha,” Sans repeated, softer.

He was in capable hands.

[mintandsugabiasd]

BTS reacts to rainy day with s/o [Maknae Line]

Jimin:

He’s always been in tune to your moods. You didn’t know how, but it’s amazing just how much he can read your wavelengths. He’s always been sensitive for as long as you’ve known him. The other boys can attest to that and all he’s done for them in their hours of need. Maybe it’s the Libra in him.

He sees you. Always had, even when you were too shy in the beginning, or even when you didn’t know how to express things properly. Bottom line is Jimin sees you, with soft, honest eyes and tender smiles -- for everything you are, everything you hope to be -- and maybe that’s all you need to know.

The thunderstorm and the lingering cold creeps into your bones in the lonely walls of your apartment. Everything is a little lonely and gray when Jimin isn’t around. It’s like the light knows where to follow, and it goes where Jimin goes. Or maybe only you think that.

You smile a little bit; his corniness is rubbing off on you.

“Y/n?” The sound of his voice as he enters your apartment pulls you from your thoughts. 

He catches you sitting in the dimming afternoon light of your room on a stormy day, rain coming down heavy and hard against the windowsill. He knows how you get when the sky tears itself apart. You glance at him as he sets his bag by the door and smile sadly at him; sometimes you’re just sad. Sometimes you cry for no reason. Especially when the weather is bad. He knows this about you and is patience incarnate when you get into your moods.

Which is why it’s automatic when he gathers you in his arms the moment he makes it to you, bed shifting as he curves himself to fit you; to shelter you as much as possible. He doesn’t panic, but you notice his urgency when he pulls you into him and sighs into your hair.

“It’s going to be alright, jagi,” he says , softly and all-knowing, pressing his forehead against yours while his thumbs wipe the tears off your cheeks. “My baby cries when the sky cries.”

You can hear the teasing lilt in his voice that you hiccup a laugh. His face lights up, encouraged and loving is the gaze you find.

“But that’s ok,” he says, cupping your face, before leaning in to kiss you, tenderly and tasting like forever, like he knows you need it. “That’s ok because I know my baby will smile with the sun.”

Unbelievable.

You laugh. Like full-on crack up laughter that your stomach hurts. You love him so much. 

“That was cheesy,” you tell him in between breaths. He’s laughing now too. He sees you, but you see him too -- you know why he did it, why he said it, this cheeky boy.

“It worked though, didn’t it?” he teased. You’re still a giggling mess in his arms. 

“See?” Jimin continues, eyes shining that you can’t help but blush as he tucks straying locks behind your ear. “Sun’s gonna shine again, I know it.”

Soft giggles die down to soft sighs of comfort as you settle back into his arms, waiting out the downpour. He holds you firmly and you focus on the muffled, steady beating of his heart by your ear.

“Love?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise we’ll always be this way?”

Jimin laughs, soft and true.

“Angel, I made that promise the moment I first saw you.”

Taehyung:

An afternoon of contemplating art and eating waffles by a beautiful view with your handsome, thoughtful boyfriend is by all means a successful surprise date. He’d been missing you throughout the whole tour and even though you were messaging and Face-timing back and forth, both of you knew it wasn’t the same. You had missed him too. Terribly. But he’s here now and you’re hell-bent on catching up on all the time you’ve lost together. 

It’s when both of you are walking in the park that’s closest to the dorms that you feel the tell-tale signs of a drizzle. The moment you feel the drizzle, you look at Tae’s amused expression before you laugh in disbelief. What luck.

He laughs with you and when the drizzle quickly turns into a downpour, he takes your hand, large and warm, and pulls both of you to run to the nearest gazebo.

You are both soaked and leaving puddles of water on the hardwood platform of the gazebo but Taehyung laughs and laughs as he clears your face off of wet hair. Despite the wet clothes and the chill in the air, you’re warm between Tae’s hands.

“So much for our little adventure, huh?” You say, wiping his face off of water with the palm of your hand.

He presses his lips into your palm the moment it is close enough and you see the excitement and joy in his eyes at having caught this moment with you, enclosed in heavy curtains of falling rain and swaying canopies of leaves. A pocket of a moment that he doesn’t get very often, you realize sadly,

“You’re beautiful,” he says, rubbing his thumbs over your wet cheeks. Cold as it is, you’re sure he can feel your face heat up. Goddamnit all, why is he so perfect?

“Such a way with words,” you say, teasing him. You take the opportunity to kiss him swiftly on the lips and before he has a chance of returning your kiss, you laugh and bolt straight out into the rain.

“C’mon, baby,” you call out to him. Really, it’s difficult to feel cold when Taehyung looks at you like that -- heated eyes, lips between his teeth, smiling like a predator waiting to strike on his taunting prey. You feel your heart and somewhere further down flutter.

“Live a little!” you tease, relishing the feel of the falling rain on your skin. You take your wet dress in your hands as you cheekily sway in the downpour. “Mayhaps there’s a gift for you at home… If you catch me!”

Tae laughs aloud, full and hearty, but he chases after you in full speed that you squeal in surprise and laughter to keep the chase going. Both of you don’t want this little adventure to end and if it meant splashing through the rain in the park like kids, then so be it. It’s worth all the world to hear Tae laugh freely the way he does when he’s with you.

He catches you on the bridge crossing a pond, hands circling around your waist while you’re a shrieking, cackling mess of wet dresses and shivering shoulders. He pulls you into his arms and before you can say anything, he has you pinned against the banister of the bridge, kissing you fully, intensely, enough for you to know exactly what he wants. 

“A gift, I believe has been implied.” You’re too dazed by his kiss to think straight, let alone reply. But you feel the unmistakable way he presses against you and the hooded gaze in his eyes, both of you wet and wanting.

“I think it’s time to go home, pretty baby.”

Jungkook:

Storms come and go, and most of the time, you and Jungkook aren’t perturbed. But it’s been raining non-stop lately that you’re getting quite restless. You sigh as you cuddle with your blanket by the balcony window, watching droplet after droplet make little trails on the glass. You sigh again, pursing your lips into a pout, as you look back at your boyfriend clicking away at the PS4 controllers, completely unbothered.

You’re so booored. What is there to do when the weather is so gloomy and your boyfriend’s too busy with his games…?

“I can hear you sighing and complaining in your head all the way from here, Y/n,” Jungkook says without looking, fingers click-clacking away at his game. There’s a laugh ready to spill somewhere in that remark. 

You grunt and you make a face at him that you know he won’t see, before bunching up your blankets and waddling to where he’s sitting on the floor of the living room you share. You sit behind him, leaning on his back, a little sulkily. You shake with his back and shoulders when he chuckles at your childish behavior.  

“I don’t need to see the pout on your face to know that there’s one, jagi,” He gets a nudge with the elbow for that. “You that bored?”

You hum against the warmth of his sturdy back. “Hmm… There’s not much to do,” you say, maybe a little too sadly. The rain pitter-patters continuously, not showing any signs of stopping. “Wish the rain would stop soon…”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. He pauses his game and turns, causing you to fall into his arms and lap.

“Do you want to play a round?” He wiggles his eyebrows above you. You eye the freckle under his lip and the passing thought to kiss him is extinguished at his question. You ponder on this briefly; deciding to play video games with Jungkook must be taken into consideration with the utmost seriousness. It’s not like you don’t like playing games -- it’s just that Jungkook can never be beaten and it almost always ends in you losing some kind of bet.

“Alright,” you concede and he beams, smile reaching his eyes and ears. You sit up, still facing him, a little excited now. “Name your terms, good sir.”

“Loser has to make an ice cream run in the rain.” He has the audacity to smirk.

“Psh. Easy.” You smirk back, challenging him. You can be just as brazen, too. There is a knowing brief flash of lust in his dark eyes that never fails to make your heart skip a beat; he’s always kind of loved it when you were just a tad bit dominating. He loves the challenge.

“Umbrella-less.” He taunts you by waving the controller in your face. You snatch it from him, sticking your tongue at him.

“Game on.” Please let the gods of luck work their magic on you for once.

Unfortunately, the gods of luck favor Jungkook more, so it’s off to the convenience store you go to get ice cream for your victorious boyfriend who is rolling on the floor, laughing at your complete and colossal defeat. Off to brave the storm. Umbrella-less. 

Why would anyone even need ice cream when it’s been so cold?

It’s a quick run but you’re still drenched when you return (with the ice cream of course, you’re a graceful loser) and the moment you enter the apartment, Jungkook has you wrapped up in towels.

“What’s going on, Kook?” You ask, confused and trying not to drop the ice cream. He has the good sense to take the tub off your hands and put them into the freezer before he resumes drying you up and pushing you back to the living room.

“Can’t have my baby getting sick on me,” he says, hugging you through the towel burrito he made you to be. He smiles at you and that’s when you notice the two steaming cups of ramen on the living room table. 

You look back at him, touched beyond belief. His face breaks into another laugh at the sight of how stunned you are, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Before you get to say anything else though, he has spun you in the direction of the room you share together and is sending you walking with a sharp tap on your butt.

“Get changed into something dry so we can eat together, Y/n!”

[Hyung Line]

[vampwrrrmistresslist]

Shhh

Rated M for 18+ content.

“SURPRISE!” You and Baekhyun shouted, as his mother opened the door.

Hand to heart in shock, she started to cry, as her newly minted daughter-in-law and youngest son surged forward to hug her. She smacked him about the shoulders in mock anger as she pulled you to her side… “You awful child! You told me that you weren’t coming!”

Baekhyun just hugged her tighter and nuzzled his face into her neck. “I know Eomma. This one wanted to tell you-”

“It’s true! I did!” You piped up from under your mother in law’s arm, your arms wrapped around her waist, your tawny gamine face surrounded by a cloud of coffee-coloured curls.

“–but Abeoji and I thought that it might be a nice surprise,” Baekhyun finished.

“Your father was in on this, too?!” she asked in surprise.

“Guilty,” he said, as he sauntered into the room.

She gave him a teasingly dark look. “I’ll deal with you later!”

Her husband grinned, his brown eyes twinkling as he sat down in his easy chair, and inclined his thickly silvered head. “Promises, promises,” he laughed. 

“Awww, Eomma, you’re not really angry, are you?” Baekhyun wheedled.

She beamed up into her son’s face, cupping his cheek as she rubbed his wife’s back. “Nah,” she said. “But now I know why your father wouldn’t let me take the haemul pajeon off of the menu. I should have known. You two are the only ones who eat them.”

“Thanks, Abeoji,” Baekhyun said to his father, who nodded, looking satisfied.

“Well, we can’t just stand here, heating the outside!” She said. “Yeobo, bring in their things.”

“I’ll help,” said Baekhyun, which prompted a clap on the back from his father as they headed outside.

The new daughter in law, you stood shyly in front of your eommonim. “I really did want to tell you,” you said softly. “I know how hard it can be to plan Chuseok, even without unexpected surprises. Is anyone else here, yet?”

Eommonim waved her hand dismissively. “My eldest son and his wife are already upstairs, unpacking. Don’t worry about the surprise; it’s fine.” Her warm, dark eyes twinkled mischievously as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and affectionately bumped you with her hip. “I know, first-hand, just how persuasive Byun men can be.” You looked down at the floor, blushing as you tried to hide a grin. She just laughed as the men returned, carrying the luggage.

Baekhyun took one look at your face and laughed, “Aw, Eomma—what did you say?”

She put her hand on your hip and said, “Nothing. I merely asked when you two are planning on giving me grandchildren!”

Your head jerked up in shock, your doe-brown eyes wide, as Baekhyun’s face turned a mottled shade of red.

She sauntered over to her husband and said in a mock whisper, “It’s so easy, isn’t it?”

He grinned as he looked at the faces of his children. “Were we ever like that?”

She winked at him, “Well…you were.”

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek as he left to carry the bags upstairs to Baekhyun’s room.

“Well,” she said briskly, coaxing a stray strand back into her large salt and pepper bun, “Are you hungry?”

You and Baekhyun looked at each other. “Starving,” he said.

“I should think so! Only a week off from a three-week honeymoon! I’m surprised that you two can even walk straight.”

"Eomma!” Baekhyun said in shock as your face took on interesting new shades of crimson.

She grinned at the dismay in her son’s shocked eyes, and rubbed her hands together, cackling. “Revenge will be sweet, my darling.”

You shook your head and muttered to your husband, “Told you we should have told her.”

Laughing, she ushered you into the kitchen. “Baekhyun-ah, let this be a lesson to you—always listen to the wise counsel of your wife!”

You and Baekhyun sat down at the kitchen table, chatting while she re-heated a few baked sweet potatoes. “I’m sorry that I don’t have more for you,” she said, sliding them in front of you, “But we don’t have much besides Chuseok food right now.”

“It’s alright, Eommoni,” you said, as your husband studiously stuffed his face with steaming hot potato. “After all, you didn’t know that we were coming.”

Baekhyun smiled at you, as you tucked into your potato. "Would you like a glass of milk?” he asked. You nodded, still eating, and he poured a couple of glasses for you both. By the time he sat back down, his older brother, his wife, and their three children had all made their way into the kitchen.

Your older sister-in-law smiled at you, ruffling your hair. “Good to see that you two are finally upright and taking nourishment,” she laughed.

You smiled back, nodding at Baekhyun as he started to give you half of the remaining potato. “Why, Pot!” you drawled. “Surely someone with three children and one on the way wouldn’t be teasing the kettle about staying upright.”

Your older brother-in-law, laughed as he came up behind his wife to lay a hand on her rounded belly. “What can I say,” he chuckled, rubbing her tummy, “She can’t get enough of me. I told her that I had a headache, but the woman just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I feel so cheap!”

She rolled her expressive eyes and laid her hand over his. “You’ll take it and you’ll like it!”

“Yes ma'am,” he said, giving her an exaggerated kiss on the neck. A tiny, pudgy hand clamped onto your sleeve, and you looked down to see your sloe-eyed niece calmly climbing into your lap. Your brother-in-law began to warn his daughter to get down, his black brows snapping together over his eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, settling the toddler on your lap, and feeding her a bit of potato.

“You keep that one,” your sister-in-law said, “We’ll take the other, and go settle. If I know Eomma, she’s up in my room, trying to unpack everything, and put it away herself. Come on,” she called to her son. "If you behave, we’ll find some cookies for you after we’re done upstairs.” The shy six-year-old trotted dutifully after his parents. You could hear your brother-in-law heartily greeting his father, as the crowd passed through the living room.

Baekhyun watched as you continued to feed his niece bites of baked potato. “She really likes you,” he said, smiling and reaching a hand to slowly stroke your pretty skin.

You lightly bounced her on your knee, stroking her hair. “Well, that’s because she has excellent taste, don’t you, baby?” you asked.

She nodded. “I have ‘skellent taste,” she announced solemnly.

“Well, there you have it,” he said seriously. You all continued to eat in silence but, after a while, he looked up at you. “So, do you want one, jagi?”

“Ohhh, no! I’m quite happy being an auntie right now, thank you very much. Besides, this is definitely not the time. We’re both still discovering each other, and…working toward our own goals, so regardless of what our parents want…not so much.”

Baekhyun nodded, and reached out to gently stroke one of his niece’s soft, plump, rosy cheeks. He grinned. “Sure is fun to practice making them, though.”

“Well,” you said, patting her solid little belly. “You certainly are good at that.

"Good at what?” a voice boomed behind them. They turned to see Baekhyun’s brother grinning at them both. He moved forward to wrap his arms around Baekhyun’s head, mussing his thick, already tousled, wavy hair. “This beanpole? The only things that he’s good at are putting away copious amounts of food and hogging all of the hot water.”

Baekhyun laughed, pushing him away. “Still jealous of my good looks and superior intellect, I see. It’s sad, really. What are you doing with your life? Medicine? Psh. Way to low-ball, loser.”

“Whatever, twerp.”

“Jerk.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“Dweeb.”

Your sister-in-law slipped in beside you to watch the ostensible bickering between your husband and brother-in-law. Her dark hair and eyes always looked so elegantly dramatic against her creamy olive skin, you thought enviously. She leaned toward you and drawled, “They’re still children, aren’t they?”

“I should hope not,” said you dryly, “Or else I’m going to have Chris Hansen knocking down my door, considering what I’ve been doing to Baekhyun for the past month.” She gave an uncharacteristically indelicate snort. “Where are the children?” you asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” she said cheerfully. “Probably somewhere searching the house for the doorway to Hogwarts, or something.”

"That’s adorable!”

“I don’t know about adorable, but it is convenient.” She leaned in confidentially, “If you’re going to have children, make sure to have at least two. That way, they can amuse each other.”

You laughed. “You’re terrible!”

She gave you a knowing wink. “I’m a mother who now has twins safely ensconced in the loving bosom of the private school system. What I am is grateful. Maybe now I can reacquaint myself with that little known delicacy, sleep.”

“Oh, please! You know that you love your hectic schedule. Work, kids, your husband–take away any one of those, and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You thrive on the adrenaline high.”

“Touché,” she allowed.

The house shuddered as the front door slammed open, and shrieks of joy echoed through the halls. The brothers looked at each other, and your brother-in-law said laconically, “Sounds like our dear little cousin is here.”

A lone scout padded into the kitchen to explore the new territory. Your niece squirmed off of your lap to go pet the enormous husky. The other two trotted in to surround the little girl, sniffing and licking her face while she giggled uncontrollably. Tall, lanky Minah and her even taller husband, Jongsuk, breezed in after their dogs, with all of the children trailing eagerly behind, ready for some prime playful puppy action.

She hugged everyone, exclaiming, “Hey, guys! What’s new and exciting?”

“Well—” Baekhyun started.

“That’s nice–I’m pregnant!” She grinned widely at their shocked faces.

You recovered first. “Congratulations!” you said, hugging her tightly.

“I second that,” your sister-in-law said warmly, rubbing her shoulder.

Baekhyun and his brother surrounded their little cousin’s husband, thumping him roughly on the back and teasing. “Hyun Jongsuk, you lascivious dog!”

He grinned and slipped an arm around Minah, who nuzzled into his side. “I hope that it’s a girl,” he said softly, looking lovingly into his wife’s shining eyes, “and that she looks just like you.”

The brothers made not-so-surreptitious gagging noises. Without looking, Minah shot out a hand and smacked them.

“Oh, burn!” Jongsuk said, pretending to be sympathetic. He laughed at the other men’s indignant faces. “With a wife like mine, who needs ADT?”

Your brother-in-law smirked. “Let’s see how enamoured you still are once she’s seven months along and sending you out into the snow at 3 AM for pickled eggs and Nutella.” He shuddered.

Your sister-in-law waved her hand loftily. “You had middle-of-the-night shopping trips, I had 72 hours of labouring to push two watermelons through a pinhole. We all had our burdens to bear.”

Jongsuk ran his fingers through his raven’s wing hair, pushing it out of his face. “I’m rather looking forward to late-night pregnancy cravings. They’ll make me feel all hunter-gatherer,” he said, jokingly pushing out his chest.

Your mother-in-law wandered into the kitchen. She took in the scene and stopped, her eyes shooting to Minah.

“No!” she said, her face lighting.

Minah nodded excitedly. “Yes!”

“You aren’t!”

“I am!”

She whooped and rushed in to drag both Minah and Jongsuk into a bear hug.

You leaned over to Baekhyun, whispering, “How does she do that?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s her thing.”

“She’s good. She’s very good.”

“You can imagine how much fun it was growing up under the all-seeing eye,” he said dryly.

You winced. “Thank goodness for benevolently distracted professors,” you rejoined, referring to your own loving, if scatterbrained, parents.

“I heard that!” your mother-in-law shot over her shoulder at you.

“Yes, she does that, too,” Baekhyun said, responding to your bemused expression.

The children began shooting around the kitchen, playing some game that seemingly consisted solely of screeching and chasing. The normally large kitchen was overfilled with the sounds of laughter, chatting, childish shrieks, and the occasional bark, as the dogs joined in the children’s chase. Baekhyun looked apologetically at you. He took your hand and squeezed it, and you smiled and leaned toward him, saying, “It’s alright. I rather like all of the energy. It’s very festive.”

“So, not regretting having married into such an overwhelming family, yet?”

Your curls bounced as you laughed. “Not yet!”

*****************

Later that night, you and Baekhyun trooped tiredly up to his room. It had been a long day, and you wanted nothing more than to bathe, crawl into bed, curl up, and pass out for the night. Baekhyun went down the hall to use another shower, while you used the bathroom that joined his room to his brother’s. You both came into the room at the same moment, grinning at your synchronicity. You peeled back the covers and stopped. Throwing back your head, you began to laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Confused, Baekhyun looked at his bed. Covering his mattress were his old, faded Pororo sheets which he hadn’t seen since he was 12. He shook his head, embarrassed. “Tricksy hobbitses,” he muttered, referencing his mother.

“Now we’re even!” she called as she walked down the hall.

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “How does she do that?!” you mouthed.

He shook his head, turned off the lamp, climbed into bed, and curled up behind you, tucking the covers around your bodies. You snuggled against his warm chest and tucked your soft bottom into the nest of his pelvis. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tucking his body as close to yours as he could. you sighed, basking in the quiet peace, lulled by his soft breath ghosting across the back of your neck. He spread his large, warm hand over your soft belly and pressed you even closer to him, stroking the smooth strip of skin that peeked between your flannel pyjama bottoms and his over-sized tee. You closed your eyes, breathing in his lovely clean smell. He slipped closer, nuzzling the back of your neck, comforted by the scent of your hair.

You slept.

****************

You awoke in the milky light of dawn, to the sensation of your husband’s fingertips slowly drawing circles against the exposed flesh of your creamy belly. You murmured nonsense, instinctively pushing your bottom closer to his warmth. You felt a rush of warmth on the back of your neck as Baekhyun growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. You realized that you were no longer snuggled into the soft, springy nest of his crotch, but that your bottom was pressed against the hard bar of his erection. You grinned, eyes still closed and shook your head, mumbling, “No, Baekhyun”.

You could feel him placing small, soft, delicate, deliberate kisses on the back of your neck, and you turned to hide your face in the pillow.

“Yes…” he rumbled, his voice sleep-roughed and wicked. His hand slowly moved to splay just under your breasts, softly stroking the silken skin.

“We are not having sex in your mother’s house, on your Pororo sheets,” you said, turning your face toward his, your eyes still closed.

Baekhyun said nothing, merely moved closer to place more delicate kisses along the edge of your mouth. The hand that had been under your neck slid down to slip itself under you, wrapping around your breasts, pulling you closer. His other hand moved in slow, comforting, hypnotic circles over your ribs and belly, lulling you back into relaxation. He moved his mouth to your ear and licked your earlobe, making you shiver.

You tried again. “I am not having sex with you–in your mother’s house–with your whole family sleeping innocently in their beds.” You felt his mouth grin behind your ear.

“And what makes you think,” he purred “that my siblings aren’t doing the very same thing?” His breath was hot against your ear, and it still smelled lightly of last night’s Colgate.

You turtled, drawing your head into your chest and pulling the blankets over yourself, in a silly attempt to fend off his advances. “You’re a fiend,” you whispered loudly. “A sex fiend!”

Baekhyun grinned to himself and moved his hand to coaxingly stroke your hip, running his fingertips just under the waistband of your bottoms. He pulled your body even closer to his, feeling you squirm at the wiry strength of his arm. He knew that you loved feeling the iron in his grip. In fact, he could feel you, your bottom unconsciously tucking up, trying to let you rest your heat on his aching shaft. He could feel you blooming against him, and he purred in appreciation. He nuzzled the back of your neck, opening his mouth to whisper teasingly against your skin, “Your sex fiend.” He pushed his hips against your bottom, letting you unconsciously rub yourself against his hungry erection. He could feel you nipples poking into his forearm, feel you pushing your chest against his arm, testing his strength.

You whined softly, then said. “I have to go help your mother cook for Chuseok…”

He lowered his voice and purred into your ear, “No one’s awake, jagiya…it’s just you and me…” punctuating each thought with a slow, sucking kiss against your exposed shoulder.

“But they’ll hear us…” He knew that he was winning. “Let me take care of that. Let me take care of you. Will you? Will you let me take care of you, agi?”

You gave a low, heartfelt moan, and then nodded.

That was all that he needed.

Baekhyun slipped from behind you to crawl over your sleep-heavy body. He burrowed underneath the covers, using his mouth to nudge the tee higher up your soft belly. Under the covers, he was surrounded by the floral aroma of your soap, and the warm, sweet scent of your burgeoning arousal. He placed slow, licking kisses against your sleep-warmed tummy, feeling your fingers lazily wending their way through his thick hair, alternating between tugging and pulling him closer. He gave an open-mouthed grin against your navel, dipping his tongue inside to tease the sensitive hollow, and was rewarded with a lazy lift of your hips and a low, purring sigh.

He wanted to go slowly, wanted to savour you, but the truth was, he didn’t know how soon the household would waken, and he needed to feel you naked, pressing against him, for as long as possible. So, he moved his mouth south, using his chin to nudge your bottoms out of his way as he lapped at the hot, sensitive hollow of your hip bone. Baekhyun heard your muffled whimper and imagined the way that your sharp white teeth sank into your plump pink bottom lip when you were trying to stifle your reactions. He grinned, and slid his hands up your hips, hooking his fingers into your bottoms to slowly, inexorably pull them off of you.

You lifted your hips to help him, and as the plaid flannel cleared your bottom, he paused, feeling his entire body grow as rigid as his erection. No panties. You had been sleeping next to him all night, soft bottom practically suction cupped to his crotch, and you hadn’t had on any panties. He could feel the tickle of your curls brushing against his lips as his cheek rested on your hip bone, and he had to move his head to stifle his heartfelt groan against your inner thigh. Baekhyun felt you squirming underneath him, trying to wriggle the rest of the way out of the bottoms, and he wrapped them around his hand, yanking them off in one violent tug that made you gasp and arch in sensuous surprise. “Wicked girl,“ he breathed over your curls, as he moved between your legs, preparing to taste the only meal he really wanted. Baekhyun stopped as he felt his you frantically tugging on his hair, clutching at his shoulders, trying to pull him back up your body.

Disappointed, he allowed himself to be dragged from under the covers, but comforted himself by nudging his hips to rest between your soft thighs. He leaned his forehead against yours, reveling in the warm mint-tinged breath that puffed over his face. "What is it, agiya?” he whispered, lazily dragging his heavy erection over your sensitive lips.

“Mmm,” you purred, and then shook your head. “I mean, no! No, you can’t do that. I can’t…” you looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, “I can’t keep quiet if you do that.”

“Mmm, no?” he rumbled, ego soaring.

“Mm-mm,” you murmured, your hips moving in perfect opposition with his, as you rubbed your swollen slit against the hard front of his pyjama bottoms.

“Mmm, okay, jagi. I’ll be good. For you. This time,” he said, nipping your lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. Baekhyun felt you shudder under his body, and then slide your hands under his pyjama bottoms to cup his firm cheeks. His eyes closed, and he buried his face in your neck, body relaxing as you kneaded his bottom, pushing him closer to you.

“Off…” you whispered desperately, trying to gain enough purchase to take off his boxers and bottoms. “Off…“

"Yes, ma'am,” he chuckled, reaching down to shuck off the clothing that kept you from what you wanted.

“Yes…” you purred, arching under him as his heavy shaft fell hard against your sensitive, swollen slit.

He slid his hands under your shirt, moving them up until your pretty little flushed face reappeared. Your hands were above your head, tangled in the shirt and, for a moment, Baekhyun felt tempted to leave them there. Later, he decided, when you were back home, and he could take his time with you. Tie you down and tease you until you demanded that he give you what you wanted.

Baekhyun jerked the shirt free, throwing it to the ground and, climbing onto his knees, quickly pulled off his own, tossing it behind him. Before he came back to you, he took a moment to enjoy the sight of you, flushed and willing beneath him, nipples glowing and tight, and thighs soft and open around his, swollen lips glistening with liquid proof of your arousal.

He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his shaft, and a drop of pre-cum welled from his slit to slide slowly down his veiny cock. Baekhyun wrapped his large hand around his shaft squeezing firmly and twisting until more pre-cum appeared on his slit. With a heartfelt groan, he watched as the thick, syrupy liquid slowly dripped down onto his your already wet slit. He leaned forward, bracing one hand under your arm, and used his swollen head to rub his hot, thick pre-cum all over your slick, smooth lips. You ran your fingertips languidly up and down his arm, watching while he marked you, and then looked up into his face. His eyes met yours. “Mine,” he growled.

You nodded lazily, slow and satisfied in your own power. Before your husband had a chance to move, you arched under him, sliding one leg over his hip, wrapping one arm around his neck, and then pulled your body up to his. Baekhyun held himself stone still as you slowly, sensuously rubbed your body against his, your firm nipples tracing hypnotic patterns on his chest, your warm, wet lips opening over his aching, steely shaft and swollen, hot balls. You caressed your free palm over the back of his head, over his ears, as you rubbed your wetness all over him, saturating his curls and covering every inch of his manhood with your slipperiness. You raked your teeth over his earlobe and sucked it into your mouth before breathing in his ear, “Mine…”

Baekhyun groaned, unable to keep still. He wrapped his free arm around you, and gently lowered your bodies to the bed, careful not to crush you. He was nodding, his eyes rolling in the back of his head at the soft sucking sensation of your wet lips against his pulsating erection. “Yours…all yours, agi. I am yours, every inch,” his voice lowered to a rumble, “every drop…”

You cooed in pleasure at his words. "Yea?” you breathed, your voice high and reedy.

“Yes,” Baekhyun groaned, his own voice almost as breathy as yours, as you had taken that moment to sink your teeth into the firm muscle of his shoulder. He sucked in a hissing breath as his cock grew even harder. “Mmm, yea, jagi. Mark me; mark your property, agiya.” He could feel your soft little tongue lapping at the sensitive bite, lips sucking at the small wound. He knew that he would have a blossoming bruise there by the time you were done and the knowledge made him bare his teeth in satisfaction. He brought his face down to his your neck, nuzzling your warm, fragrant skin as you lifted your head, exposing the long expanse of your neck.

You whimpered as he scraped his teeth over your silken skin, shivering as he moved down to nibble your collarbone. You slid your fingers through his thick hair, and he knew what you wanted. Baekhyun sighed regretfully against your neck, his warm lips kissing, stroking. “I can’t, jagi, I’m sorry. Not where they’ll see.” Your body shuddered under his, and he bit his lip, trying to hold onto his control. With a throaty moan, you pushed him down your body, pressing his mouth to your breast.

“Yes, yes,” you panted, and he gave in, gave you what you wanted. Opening his mouth over your firm little breast, he sank his teeth into the warm, yielding flesh, sucking as he bit. You arched, throwing back your head and opening your mouth, but before you could cry out, he brought his hand up to your mouth, clamping it over your cry of satisfaction. You opened your eyes in surprise, and he looked up at you just in time to see your pupils dilate with desire. He groaned against the nipple in his mouth as you tugged his hair, and dragged the flat of your tongue over his palm. He knew just what that clever little tongue could do, and he wanted it.

Your rosy brown nipple popped out of his mouth as he turned his head to rest his cheek against your soft breasts, trying to control himself. Why had he started this? It was driving him crazy, the urge to bite, to lick, to taste, the urge to pull you down onto your knees and feel your suckling little mouth driving him crazy. He nuzzled your breasts, and you moaned behind his palm at the heated sensation of his cheek against your sensitive nipples.

He had to take control again, or he would forget what he was trying to do, and the whole house would know what you were doing. Baekhyun climbed to his knees and crawled behind you, fitting your small, soft body to his hard frame without moving his hand from your mouth. His shaft lay cradled at the cleft of your soft cheeks, but he just had to ignore that. Ignoring it would be a lot easier, he thought grimly, if you would stop sliding yourself seductively up and down his dick, forcing more pre-cum to paint your firm cheeks, inviting him to slide between them and thrust while you clenched around his length, your rosebud tickling the underside of his shaft until he blew all over your back.  

Baekhyun wrenched his mind back to the present. He slid his right hand under your right arm, curving it up over your chest, and switched hands over your mouth. He then had to bury his face in your hair to stifle a laugh as he heard you giggle, felt the bubbles of sweet laughter tickling his palm. He slipped his left arm under your left arm, curving it around your waist until you both were almost in the same position you had been when he started this game. This time, however, instead of seductively stroking the soft skin of your little belly, he let his hand wander lower, stroking the tips of his fingers over your soft curls. You lay quiet in his arms, your eyes closed as you blossomed under his petting.

You started to squirm as his hand moved lower, moving your head against the palm held so firmly over your mouth. Baekhyun brought his mouth to your ear, breathing, “Moan, jagi. I have you agiya, no one will hear. Make as much noise as you want.” You were about to playfully nip him for his overconfidence, when his questing fingers found your swollen bud, and you thrashed in his arms, hips arching, trying to rub against his fingers. You were moaning, whimpering without even knowing it, as his fingers slid under your hood, pulling it back to expose the pink pearl that was the centre of your most intense pleasure. He trailed a fingernail over the top and, without meaning to, you bit him. Baekhyun grunted, feeling his dick pulse in answer, his balls so full, so heavy with cum that they burned. He groaned against your neck. It was such a good burn…

You whimpered as he slid his fingers away from your sensitive clitoris to gently tug at your inner lips with the webs of his fingers. “Do you like that, agi? Do you like my big, strong hand playing with your wet little cunt?” he whispered wickedly, running the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. You shivered at his words, squirming in his arms as he played with your sensitive, swollen lips. You felt him smile against your ear as he drew back his hand and lightly tapped you, each tap sending streaks of pleasure like lightning through your erect little pearl, to spread up to your aching, tingling nipples.

Baekhyun bit his lip as he felt your wetness coating his fingers, connecting his fingers to your sex with each playful tap. You were so wet. He could feel it seeping back between your thighs to soak his curls and slowly drip teasingly down his balls. Without thinking, he quickly pumped against your wetness, rubbing his balls against your dripping opening, covering himself with your heat, your scent.

He moved his fingers lower, to trace his your opening. Baekhyun felt you go still, as he let his fingertips explore. He could feel little flutters kissing his fingers, and he groaned against your shoulder, thinking about how good they were going to feel gently clamping down on his aching cock. He started to slide two fingers into you, but stopped when he felt you shaking your head.

He moved his hand from your mouth, and you twisted to look up at him, whispering, “No, I want you…”

He nuzzled your mouth, purring darkly. “You’re going to have me, jagi. I’m just going to make you come on my fingers first…”

You whined softly, "I want you, Baekhyunnie. Please, I need you… Stop teasing me…I need to feel you filling me up, thrusting into me, owning me, making me yours…” You punctuated each new idea with a slow roll of your body, brushing it against his.

Baekhyun groaned into your hair, your words and movements making his dick ache so bad, that he didn’t think that he could stand it much longer. He was panting as he said, “But I thought you liked it when I touch you…when I pet my princess…when I make you lose control all over my fingers…”

Your eyes closed and you purred at his words. “I do…I like that….I love it,” you admitted. “But I need to feel you inside of me, losing it…losing yourself…” You twisted just a bit further and licked his mouth.

His control snapped. He flipped you over, pulling you onto your knees and opening them wide. Baekhyun wrapped his wet fingers around your hip, lined himself with your opening, and then slowly slid inside. You gasped at the feeling of being stretched and filled, and Baekhyun slipped his other fingers into your mouth, feeling your tongue sliding over them, closing his eyes as he imagined how good that wet tongue would feel on his cock. Mmm, later.

With firm, shallow thrusts, he was soon inside of you, your soft cheeks pressed against his pelvis, the backs of your warm thighs firmly resting against the hard, flexing fronts of his. He leaned over your body, resting his chest against your back. Your bottom was up in the air, your cheek against the bed, your mouth steadily sucking on his long fingers. He loved you in this position, open, helpless, wanton. He knew that you loved it, too; loved the feeling of being overtaken, filled, covered by him. He sank his teeth into your shoulder as he began to thrust, firmly holding you in place with one hand kneading your soft breasts, teasing your pouting nipples as the other slowly drew his fingers in and out of your mouth in a teasing counter rhythm. You had an oral fixation, and it was his deepest pleasure to indulge it at every possible opportunity.

You whimpered around his fingers, sweetly sucking as your cunt milked his cock, coaxing him to release the cum boiling in his swollen balls. Baekhyun groaned incoherently into your shoulder, suckling and licking the hungry bites that he lavished against your creamy shoulder. As much as you were able, you arched your back, nuzzling his forehead, encouraging him. He gave it to you like he knew you liked it, slow, hard thrusts, each one making your body jump with its force.

Despite your small size, you were no wilting flower. He knew that you could take it, and that you reveled in him losing himself with you. He paused to slowly circle his hips, making you grind against him. He tore his mouth away from your shoulder to whisper roughly into your ear. “That’s it, jagi, take what you want. You like it when I take you like this? Hard and rough? Mmm…” He nuzzled your ear. “Just looking at you spread out before me makes me want to come. I can feel you tightening around my hard dick, milking it…” He thrust his hips hard, making your breasts bounce as you took his cock. “You like taking my cock, don’t you, agiya? Like to ride it…cover it with your slippery wetness…”

By this point, Baekhyun almost didn’t even have to move. You were sliding up and down his thick pole on your own, his words driving you into that special place where all you cared about was feeling him filling you up, rubbing his body against yours, covering you with his scent. All the same, he kept up with his thrusts because they just felt so good. Every inch of his thick cock felt like it was being licked with tongues of maddening, teasing fire and he wanted more. He wanted to feel you clamp down on him, wanted to feel your wetness seeping out of your stretched cunt, around his thick base to drip down his balls, to slide down his thighs.

You pouted as your husband removed his clever fingers from your breasts. When he slid them over your hungry pearl, however, you thrashed underneath him, bringing him dangerously close to the brink. He paused, not moving, just letting you work yourself on his swollen shaft, each clench and flutter making his stomach tighten with the need to come. When you had worked yourself into a steady rhythm, he began to move, making you gasp around the fingers he had buried in your mouth at the double sensations of his cock plundering your sensitive cunt, and his strong fingers working your erect, sensitive bud.

Baekhyun rested his cheek against your back, rolling his hips in opposition to his fingers pinching and plucking at your pearl, gently tickling the special spot under your hood that drove you crazy. All of the sensations were too much. You squirmed artlessly, feeling the electric sensation building inside, around your sensitive opening, still stretched to the brink around your husband’s thick driving dick, in your hard little clitoris, in your tingling nipples. Your mouth clamped on his fingers as your cunt clamped down on his cock, milking him as you came on his burning shaft.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt your release, heard your whimpering cries leaking around the fingers buried in your small, sucking mouth. He thrust once, twice, three times, and growled as his cock burst with cum. He could feel each pull as his balls drained themselves in your tight little fluttering cunt. With each spasm, he thrust deeper into you, needing to fill your tight sex, needing to splash his hot, creamy jizz all over your clamping walls, mark his territory even as your spasming sex sucked every drop out of him, owning all he was.

Baekhyun collapsed on top of you, gasping in your ear, groaning at the unbelievable relief of feeling his balls emptying themselves into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rolled, keeping you close to him as he nuzzled the back of your neck. He could feel you panting in his arms, and he moved a hand to slowly stroke your hip, calming you down. He smoothed his mouth over your neck, over your shoulder, whispering into your skin how much he loved you, how he belonged to you, how he could never have enough of you.

He turned you over onto your back, sliding under your arm, so that he could rest his head on your breasts, his broad palm spanning your belly as he stroked the soft, damp skin. You brought a weak hand to his head, threading your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, reveling in his adoration.

Just as you had almost drifted back to sleep, there was a knock at the door. Baekhyun lifted his head from your breast, preparing to ask who it was, when you both heard his mother say, “I’m going downstairs to start breakfast. Feel free to put on some clothes and join me.”

You looked mutely up at your husband, mouthing, “Does she know?“

He shook his head. She couldn’t know. You both had been quiet, he was sure of it…

His mother covered her mouth to stifle her laughter as she walked back toward her husband, and they made their way downstairs.

"So?” he asked, laughing at her impish expression.

“Oh, yes. They were definitely doing what I said they were doing,” she nodded.

“How did you know?”

She scoffed. “They were way too quiet. It was like…a black hole of noise. That drew my attention. And then I heard the bed moving waaay too much for proper REM attainment.” She sniffed, and then loftily said “Clearly they don’t appreciate the full scope of my powers.”

Her husband grinned at her. “Foolish mortals.”

“Aren’t they just?”

“Well, fortunately for me, I appreciate them.”

“Oh, I know. Especially the power of holiday breakfast.”

He nuzzled her neck as he began pulling her back up the stairs toward their room. “Oh, I don’t know…there are a few other powers that I think I appreciate a bit more…”

She giggled, as charmingly a young bride, as her husband began nibbling her neck. “Oh?”

“Oh, yes,” he asserted. “Why don’t you show off a few?”

She chuckled, tossing her head defiantly as her husband closed their bedroom door.

“Let them eat cereal.”

A/N:  If you want to follow me, then please do so at my main blog @vampwrrr, as I always update there, first.

[keep-me-inmind-kaspbrak]

You Take My Breath Away~Reddie Fic

Summary: When DJ job opens at the local roller rink Richie takes it not knowing he would meet the possible love of his life.

AO3: {READ}

Chapters: [Chapter 1], [Chapter 2], [Chapter 3]

Notes:  Thank you everyone for bearing with me on this chapter!  Life has been hectic and school hasn’t made it any easier, but the chapter is finally here!  I hope you all enjoy it!  Major S/o to @cestleprobleme for beta reading this as usual I couldn’t do it without her <3

WC: 3,553

Chapter 4

After dropping Eddie off at his dorm Richie sat in his car, heart racing, lips tingling, and euphoria racing through his veins. He laid back in his seat, tilting his head back letting out his shaky breath, and he began to laugh. He can’t believe that had actually happened. He could still feel Eddie’s soft lips on his; he could still taste them, they were a mix between vanilla and berries. Smiling a bit, Richie sat up and put the car into drive and headed to the parking lot near his building.

            As Richie made his way into his dorm room he was greeted by the dark silence that resided there. He flicked the light on and went over to his record player and placed the needle on the record that was already on the turntable. As the record began to spin static came through the speakers, and then the familiar chimes of Can’t Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon hummed throughout Richie’s dorm room.

            “I tell myself that I can't hold out forever I said there is no reason for my fear 'Cause I feel so secure when we're together You give my life direction You make everything so clear”

                       Richie flopped on to his bed and closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. Each lyric hit him and would bring his swirling thoughts straight to Eddie. Since meeting Eddie, Richie has been the happiest he has ever been. He hasn’t felt alone, he has been inspired to be the best person he could be, and he even gave up smoking for the damn boy.

            “My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you I've been running around in circles in my mind And it always seems that I'm following you, girl 'Cause you take me to the places That alone I'd never find”

             As the lyrics swarmed Richie’s head he knew he had to do something about his feelings for Eddie. He wanted-…no, he needed to ask Eddie out on a date, a formal date, like a movie and dinner or something, something even better.

            Richie’s train of thought was interrupted as his phone started ringing. He looked down at it and saw that Bill was calling him.

            “Aye, whats cracka-lackin?” Richie answered.

            “Hey R-Richie! How a-are you?”

            “Oh you know, just visiting your mom,” Richie said with a humorous ring to his voice.

            “S-seriously, Richie? Beep b-beep. I was c-calling to a-a-ask you to juh-join us at game night wi-with the rest of the sq-squad.” Bill responded.

            “Wait a fucking second, did you just beep beep me!? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

            “It means sh-shut up, Richie, now a-are you d-down for tuh-morrow or not?”

            “Ouch! I am hurt, Billiam!” Richie gasped into the phone, clutching his chest despite the fact that Bill could not see him do so. “But I guess I’ll make an appearance, as long as we play monopoly.”

            “Psh, g-good fucking l-luck, Eddie will k-hick you’re a-ass.” Bill said derisively.

            “I’ll be there, what time does the party start and where at?”

            “P-probably around s-seven ‘o clock, and at B-bev’s a-a-partment on c-campus.”

            “Okay, I’ll be there, see you tomorrow, get ready to fucking lose!” Richie said in a rush before hanging up the phone before Bill could fire back.

            If Eddie was going to be at this get together tomorrow, it would be the perfect time to ask him out on a formal date. Richie could feel his gut turning in anticipation and nervousness, but he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips at the same time. Richie grabbed his phone and looked at the time and saw that it was getting close to one in the morning. Sighing, he plugged his charger into his phone, ripped his shirt and pants of, and went to bed.

 ~

            Richie had slept in well past noon the next day. It was typical of him to sleep this late, hell, he could probably sleep until one or two in the afternoon without anything to rouse him. After getting up, Richie spent most of the day in his bed playing video games until it was time to get ready.

            As the time to leave got closer he got ready, putting on a what he hoped was a clean band tee shirt, his ripped black jeans, and a grey and black flannel to top it off. He grabbed his leather jacket as he left his room and headed towards Bev’s apartment.

            It wasn’t too long of a walk, maybe ten to fifteen minute, but the cold evening made him walk a bit faster in hopes he would reach Bev’s all the sooner. As he got closer to the apartment building he saw Stan and Eddie walking into the complex. Quickening his pace, he made it in just before the door shut and saw Eddie and Stan make their way up the stairs.

            “Hey buckos, wait up!” Richie yelled.

            “Oh hey, Richie.” Eddie turned around, smiling and waving down at him.

            “Did Bill invite you?” Stan asked turning around as well to face Richie.

            “Yup! Get ready to get fucking destroyed during monopoly!” Richie said making his way up towards Stan and Eddie.

            “Not possible! I have won every game since we started game night.” Eddie said proudly puffing out his chest a bit.

            “Get ready to meet your match, Kaspbrak.” Richie looked down at him and gave him a sly smile with a wink.

            “Oh god.” Is all Stan was able to say as he made his way down the hall towards Bev’s apartment.

            Richie and Eddie walked side by side down the hall. As they reached the door Richie stood there motioning Eddie to go ahead and enter first. Eddie looked up at Richie and just smiled softly as he made his way through the doorway into the apartment.

            Richie made his way across the apartment to find Ben and Bev in the kitchen fixing bowls of chips, and Bill and Mike in the living room getting the first game: Twister. A smile spread across Richie’s face. He loved twister, it was super easy for him, one of the (only) benefits of having long, gangly limbs.

            His thoughts were interrupted when Mike turned to look at Richie and said, “You in?”

            “Get ready to lose!” Richie said taking off his jacket and shoes, and made his way over to the mat.

            The rest of the losers joined them in the living room and Bill took the spinner and started the game with the first spin, “Okay, l-left hand red.”

            The losers sat and watched as Richie and Mike progressively became a human pretzel, and Mike would try to elbow Richie to get him to fall but Richie was quick to twist out of the way. Bev and Stan started to make a bet on who would win, Bev standing her ground cheering on Richie and Stan telling Mike to take Richie down.

            “Left f-foot b-blue!” Bill shouted.

            Everyone was sitting on the edge of the couch as Richie twisted above and around Mike to get his left foot on blue. As he set his foot down he wobbled and almost slipped but managed to still stay up. He looked over at the couch and could hear Bev and Eddie cheering Richie on. As he turned his head he felt Mike move to get his foot on a blue, he had to almost do the splits to get to the closest blue. Mike reached and reached but as soon as he put his foot down he collapsed in a fit of giggles.

            Richie shot up and started whooping and hollering over his victory. Looking down he saw Mike laughing and Richie lowered his hand to help him up. “Damn Richie, you made that look so fucking easy!” Mike said patting Richie on the back.

            “Practice makes perfect, and I get plenty of that.” Richie winked at Mike giving a soft chuckle. “Would anyone like to challenge the victor?!”

            “Let’s go.” Eddie said immediately after.

            Richie’s eyes shot open and watched as Eddie made his way off the couch towards the mat. “You’re going down, Spaghetti Man.” Richie said playfully to Eddie.

            “We will see about that.” Eddie shot back with a bit a playful smile on his lips.

            Bev took the spinner from Bill and gave it a flick, “Right hand red, boys!”

            Richie slapped his right hand down on the closest red, and Eddie followed by slapping his hand right above the red Richie’s hand was on. Richie looked up at Eddie and saw him smiling devilishly at him. Richie swallowed as he heard Bev shout the next position, “Left foot blue!”

            Richie twisted his body to get his left foot comfortably on blue. He looked at Eddie, nodding at him and waiting for him to make his move. Eddie elegantly moved in, positioning his left foot right under and next to Richie’s left foot. They were slowly becoming intertwined and Richie could see what Eddie was attempting to do.

            “Right foot yellow!” Bev shouted looking down at the boys, giggling at where this was going to lead.

            Eddie was the first to move to Richie’s surprise, he slyly snuck under Richie swinging his left leg to let his foot comfortably rest on the yellow for a second. Eddie swung his hips up to position himself better, allowing his side to graze Richie’s side. His breath hitched a bit as Eddie looked at him from the corner of his eye with a sneaky grin peaking through.

            Richie took a deep breath and swung his left foot in front of Eddie’s positioning himself over top of Eddie. “Looks like we are giving everyone a show, huh Eds?” Richie whispered down at Eds.

            Eddie whipped his head around and said, “Only if you make it a show.” And with that Eddie stuck his ass out and bumped it against Richie’s lower thigh.

            “Jesus Christ, you two!” Ben said laughing a bit.

            “If you two wanted to play that kind of twister the room is down the hall!” Bev responded flicking the spinner again.

            “This calls for me to go get a drink.” Stan stood up, grabbing Bills hand and leading them towards the kitchen.

            “Right hand yellow.” Bev shouted with a grin.

            Richie took his right hand and placed it behind him to give himself some leverage and Eddie took his hand and placed it in front of him. Bev flicked it again and called various other positions. Soon Bill and Stan made it back to the living room to see Richie and Eddie still intertwined but in a less provocative position.

            “Right foot green!” Bev said.

            Richie was already in a nearly impossible position to get out of and Eddie was making it more difficult than usual. Eddie had already moved his foot and was waiting on Richie to make his move. Richie took in a deep breath and tried to wiggle his way around Eddie, it was increasingly difficult to sneak around him every way he turned to place his foot. Eddie had his body positioned in a way that made his stomach tighten and could feel his blood rush to his lower body.

            Richie bit his lip as he tried to place his foot in the green spot but lost his balance and fell. Eddie shot up, jumping up and down celebrating his victory. Richie lay on the mat taking deep breaths smiling a bit trying to get himself to calm down before sitting up.

            “Take that, Tozier!” Eddie shouted still celebrating his win.

            “You may have won the battle, but you haven’t won the war.” Richie responded slowly, standing up.

            “That’s what you think.” Eddie spouted back, poking Richie’s shoulder playfully.

            “Now now, boys, no fighting in my house!” Bev said standing next to Richie.

            Richie just laughed and headed over to the couch and flopped down grabbing the closest snack bowl. Eddie came and sat next to Richie on the couch and snuck his hand into the snack bowl grabbing a couple of chips and popping them into his mouth. Richie and Eddie sat and watched as Bill and Stan challenged each other at twister, which didn’t last very long before Bill fell after only the fifth position was called. They watched as Ben and Bev played a round that went on for quite a while before Ben’s hand slipped while moving his right foot.

           “Can we play monopoly now?” Eddie asked as Mike and Ben were folding up the Twister mat.

           “The last time we played you left crying Eddie.” Stan said.

           “So? Let’s play, please!” Eddie pleaded.

           “Huh-how ab-bout UNO? “ Bill offered up

           Everyone nodded, all agreeing on playing the game UNO. Richie sat down on the floor and everyone join in, forming a circle around the deck of cards, and Mike began to deal out the cards to each of the losers. The game started off slowly, but started to pick up pace as Richie, Eddie, and Bill had two cards left. It had come up on Eddie’s turn, he looked over at Richie and gave him a shit-eating grin as he placed a draw four card down, “UNO.”

           “ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW?!” Richie shouted.

           “Sorry not sorry.” Eddie shrugged.

           “You are going to pay for that, Spaghetti.”

           Everyone took their turn and it came to Eddie and he smiled and slapped his card down. Richie threw his cards down, “Fuck, are you serious!?!”

           “Yeah, someone a sore loser?” Eddie said, smiling back at Richie.

           “Yeah, actually I am, I want a rematch!” Richie exclaimed.

           "No, I think we should watch a movie.” Stan interrupted.

           "I ag-gree, i-it’ll be a g-good way to eh-end the n-night, don’t you think?” Bill added.

           Everyone else nodded and had agreed they’d like to watch a movie. Richie sighed and caved in and agreed as well. He helped clean up the game with Eddie; they collected all the cards and put them back in the designated box. Once they had cleaned up the game they made their way back to the living room where the TV was already set up with the movie the losers had chosen to watch, The Goonies. The couch was taken up, so was the love seat, all that was left was a rather large beanbag chair that could fit two.

           Richie walked over to the beanbag chair and sat down in the middle of it, and he looked up at Eddie with a smile and patted the side of it motioning for him to sit down. Eddie grabbed a blanket on the side of the couch, wrapped himself up and then sat down next to Richie. The movie started and they all fell silent as they watched the 1980s classic.

           After the movie had gone on for a bit of time, Richie could feel something fall against his shoulder softly. Looking down, he saw Eddie quietly asleep with his head resting on his shoulder. Richie carefully maneuvered his arm to wrap around Eddie’s shoulders, hoping it would be a bit more comfortable for him, and Eddie sleepily shifted his head so that it was now against Richie’s chest. The result was a softly snoring Eddie tucked under Richie’s arm, and the lanky boy couldn’t help but smile down at him throughout the rest of the movie.

            As the movie was coming to an end, Eddie slowly began waking up, shifting slightly beneath Richie’s arm. The credits began to roll, and Bev flipped the lights on and everyone groaned and covered their eyes.

           Damn, Bev, you could’ve warned us you were turning the lights on!” Richie said, rubbing at his eyes.

           “Sorry!” she said, not really sorry.

           Richie stood up carefully and stretched as Eddie was still curled up in the beanbag, rubbing at his eyes against the harsh light. Richie looked down at Eddie and said, “Did you sleep well, little prince?” with a slight smirk on his lips.

           Eddie flushed bright red and responded, “Shut up.”

           Stan made his way over to Eddie and whispered in his ear, something Richie couldn’t hear, but Eddie just nodded and told Stan he’d see him later. Stan then walked away toward Bill and they grabbed their coats and shoes and left, thanking Bev for a wonderful time and wishing everyone a goodnight. Shortly after they left Mike asked to stay the night at Bev’s knowing they were going to Bill’s room.

           Richie saw Eddie grab his shoes and coat and begin to thank Bev for the game night and food, and slowly back out the door after saying bye to everyone. Richie quickly grabbed his shoes and coat and hugged Bev hastily before heading out the door to catch up with Eddie.

           Eddie luckily hadn’t made it too far, and Richie was able to catch up easily. He walked up to Eddie’s side and kept quiet for a short while before piping up, “You want me to walk you to your dorm?”

           “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.” Eddie responded with a smile.

           “Are you sure, Eds? You don’t sound so sure.” Richie nudged.

           “I’ll be fine, Richie, seriously.”

           They continued walking, the only sound being exchanged was the crunch of gravel under their feet. Richie took a deep breath, he knew that this was the time to ask Eddie out. Richie stopped in his tracks to see Eddie had stopped walking a while ago and wasn’t to far behind him, just standing there looking at Richie.

           “Everything okay, Eds?” Richie asked with a bit of concern in his voice.

           "Uh yeah!” Eddie said quickly back, his hands worrying the fabric of his sleeve, clearly looking a bit nervous. He began to walk back up towards Richie.

           “Spaghetti man, something is up. You always fidget with your sleeve when you are nervous.” Richie said while walking up to Eddie to meet in the middle.

           “I do not!” Eddie fired back in a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

           “Hate to break it to ya, kiddo, but you do. It’s cute, not gonna lie.” Richie said shrugging.

           Richie watched as Eddie looked up at him, smiling that small smile that sent Richie’s heart aflutter. Richie was about to pipe up and ask Eddie out but was taken back when Eddie spoke first.

           “Richie?”

           “Yeah?”

           “I was wondering…if you’d like to go on a real date? I mean if you want to. You can say no if you don’t want too…” Eddie said blushing, looking up at Richie with his big, round, dark eyes.

           Richie could feel his heart beat go straight up to his throat as he stood there speechless for a second or two, but when Eddie started to look a little crestfallen, he snapped back to his senses. “YES!” Richie shouted emphatically, a wide grin taking over his features.

           Richie could see Eddie smile back, clearly looking beyond excited to see that Richie had said yes. Richie was shocked that Eddie had beat him to the punch on this one, but kind of glad he did. It only reassured him that Eddie was having the same feelings for Richie that he was having for the smaller boy.

           “What day works best for you?” Eddie asked beginning to walk again this time a bit closer to Richie, soft warmth radiating off of him and brushing Richie’s skin.

           “For such a cutie as yourself? Anytime works for me, babe.” Richie said with a wink and a smile.

           “Wednesday?” Eddie said with a soft voice, looking up at Richie with a smile.

           “Sure thing, hot stuff.”

           Richie could hear a soft giggle escape Eddie’s lips, and he swore that the sound of that giggle sent his stomach into an instantaneous fit of butterflies. They continued to walk towards the dormitories, each exchanging glances at the other when neither of them were looking. Eddie soon piped up, “So, you want to do like, dinner and then go skating after?”

           Richie could feel a blush rise to his cheeks, “Dinner sounds great, but ya boy here can’t roller skate.”

           “WHAT!? Richie Tozier can’t roller skate?” Eddie gasped, in mostly real horror. “You work at a skating rink!”

           “What, I never learned!” Richie responded throwing his hands up in defense.

           “Well, I guess someone will have to teach you, huh?” Eddie said walking closer to Richie and nudging him with his elbow while wiggling his eyebrows.

           “As long as the teacher is hot.”

           “I think I can handle that.” Eddie said blushing a little, looking up at Richie with a cunning smile.

           After the short walk they ended up outside Eddie’s dorm. They stood there looking at the dorm for a short while before Richie said, “Looks like I ended up walking you back.”

           “I guess so.” Eddie chuckled.

           “Well, Mr. K, I bid you a good evening.” Richie said taking Eddie’s hand bowing down to give it a soft peck.

           “Goodnight Richie.” Eddie giggled as he backed away into the dorm.

           Richie stood there as he watched Eddie walk into the dorm safely. He exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and grinned like an idiot to himself as he began to walk away to his own dorm.

TAG LIST: @eddie-kas, @welcome-assholes, @noahclapp-reddie, @justanothetfangirl, @earthvsjai, @pennys-pet-kitty, @aesteddie, @wintersember, @nesquickbgirl, @geckolover001, @marie23mandy

(tag list still open feel free to message me to be added!)

[genericpseudonyms]

this is what makes us girls

‘Tell me something nice.’

My head is in the crook of her shoulder and we are sprawled out on the couch. My dog lies between her legs because she likes to feel cornered in. Some mindless TV show is blaring but I can’t focus on anything on screen. The only thing I can think about is the same negative feedback loop my brain has been circling for the past forty-eight hours.

‘Ugh, this again?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’m spiraling. Tell me something nice.’

‘You have good hair,’ she says in a deadpan. ‘And it’s attached to a very smart head. Though, it’s not being terribly smart at the moment.’

I wave my hand. ‘Keep going.’

‘You’re killing me.’

‘I’m sad. I’m killing myself.’

She gives me a look.

‘Bad joke?’

‘Bad joke,’ she agrees.

‘Well, keep going then.’

‘You’re smart.’

‘You said that already.’

She sucks in her breath through her teeth. ‘You’re pretty. Very pretty. Too pretty for all those losers that keep pining after you.’

‘All zero of them. And I’m not pretty.’

‘You leave a trail of bitter nerd hearts behind you. You’re just too oblivious to notice. And yes, you are.’

I grab her hand and she drops her knitting needle. Cupping her hand in mine, I use it to stroke my own hair, like I am her puppet master. I have to. She'll never do this on her own. ‘See, this is how you comfort someone who’s feeling shitty. I am not someone people pine after. I’m the third unwanted leg of the love triangle. Always have been, always will be.’

‘Oh my god,’ she says. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s rolling her eyes. ‘That is not how love triangles work. And just because you’re blinder than a bat, doesn’t make what I say untrue. What’s his face,’ she snaps her fingers, trying to remember, ‘you know, that guy.’

‘Ah yes. That guy. So descriptive. So helpful. ’

‘The guy at Em’s wedding.’

‘Will? The weirdo who wouldn’t hug Em on her own wedding day? The one I yelled for fifteen minutes for being a giant dick to you both? The one who ran up to you to say that I was scary as fuck? That guy?’

‘Yeah. Him. He pined after you.’

My eyes roll so hard they almost fall out of my head. ‘Yay.’

‘You’re a bright, sparkly unicorn. You just have to find another bright, sparkly unicorn.’

‘I don’t want to be a unicorn.’

‘Psh. Please. Everyone wants to be a unicorn.’

‘Well, I don’t. Voldemort’s just gonna suck my blood. It’s not a good time.’

‘Then what do you want?’

I pause. This is the question everyone keeps asking me and I have no answer that sticks. ‘I just want to...meeehhhh.’

‘Use your words. Articulate what you’re feeling.’

‘I don’t wanna.’

‘You’re so fucking annoying.’

‘I’m just...lonely is all. And confused.’

‘About?’

‘Everything.’

‘Everything?’ If I look up, I’ll see her giving me an arched brow and a look that screams Bitch Please, I Do Not Have Time For Your Pity Party.

‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about anything or anyone anymore. It feels like my memories and gut instincts are all wrong. I don’t know how to trust if someone’s actually telling me the truth, if they’re lying, or they think they’re telling the truth but actually lying to themselves, or something else entirely.’

‘Well yeah,” she says. ‘You can only accept what people tell you is true. You’ll drive yourself crazy otherwise.’

‘Do you think I’m overreacting? Isn’t this how immigrant families are?’ I bite my lip. ‘What if I’m just being oversensitive?’

She frees her hand from my grasp so she can go back to knitting, though I’m not making it easy. Our arms are all entwined and I know she’s being exceedingly patient with me. ‘No. This is normal when people lie to you your whole life. Tiger Moms and whatever are a thing but...they still support their kids. They don’t do what they did. Yeah the love is conditional but it’s not...They don’t leave you locked in a basement with no food.’ She pauses. ‘It’s a miracle you’re not shitty like your cousins. You’re doing real good.’

That calms me down a bit. Either that, or the sleeping pill is finally kicking in. ‘You love me.’

‘Not this again.’

‘Hey,’ I say, pretending to be miffed. ‘You shouldn’t only say it when I’m sobbing on your shoulder after a nervous breakdown. You can’t deny it. I heard you say it.’

‘Of course I love you,’ she says, making no eye contact. ‘I’m just not effusive like Em is. I don’t do mushy feeling things. That’s what Em is for.’

‘Em is in St. Louis and you know doctor hours are crazy. You’re what I got.’

‘Yeah,’ she says, patting me on the back. ‘Sucks for you.’

It’s not so bad, really. But I’m not going to tell her that. I’ll be thirty soon, and my life is absolutely nothing like what I thought it would be ten years ago. I’m not married—and I’m pretty sure I never will be. I don’t have kids, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to. But I am a writer. A real bonafide, paid writer, and that’s something I never thought I’d manage. I’m also moping on the couch with my roommate and best friend of 15 years. And soon she’ll be leaving me for her own apartment.

‘I’m sad you’re leaving,’ I say. ‘Like, I’m glad for you. I’m not trying to be selfish. I totally meant it when I helped with your application. Like, I was so happy to help with your appeal and I’m not saying—��

‘Shhhhh,’ she replies. ‘I know. You royally screwed yourself over to help me out. Only an idiot does that.’

‘Hey!’

‘What are you gonna do when I move out?’

‘Well, M is moving in.’

‘Yeah but he’s rarely gonna be around. He’ll check up on you but you know his hours.’

‘I’ll be fine. I’m always okay.’

She gives me a stern look. We both know I’m absolute shit at taking care of myself. As soon as she moves out, I will go back to eating maybe once a day, if that, and staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning writing. I will probably drink a few too many cups of coffee and refuse to tell people when I’m doing poorly. The dog will be fine though. I’ve always been better at taking care of others.

‘You survive. That’s different from being okay.’

‘I’ll be fiiiine. I made it seven years overseas, didn’t I?’

Lips pursed, she goes back to knitting. ‘You better be. I don’t wanna make new friends. I’m too old for that shit.’

‘When we’re seventy, let’s get a beach house and live together again,’ I say. ‘We’ll either be divorced or our spouses will be dead. Our children, if we have any, won’t need us. We can be old and crotchety together. I’ll yell at the kids to get off my holographic lawn. Do beach houses have lawns?’

‘That’s always been the plan. Beach houses can have lawns if they’re holographic.’

‘This would all be easier if you were a lesbian,’ I gripe. ‘We’re already that old sexless married couple that constantly bickers and shops at sales.’

‘I’m sorry I can’t fulfill you in that way. Plus, even if I were a lesbian, you know we wouldn’t work out.’

It’s true. We wouldn’t. We’d be at each other’s throats in a half-second. She’s blunt. I’m overly sensitive. She’s a woman of few words. I blabber and blather because I don’t know when to shut up or go home. She’s private. I don’t give a rat’s ass who knows my dirty laundry—well, most of my dirty laundry. We’re oil and water, but as friends, it somehow it works. I understand her, and she understands me. It’s that simple.

‘But you’ve thought of it,’ I say.

‘Ugh, no.’

I smile. She totally has.

‘I’ll ask M if he’s still in love with you.’

‘Oh god.’ She stops knitting and scrunches up her face. ‘Oh god please no. It’s been fourteen years.’

‘Why do you think I’m okay with his straight ass moving in here? He can’t fall in love with me if he’s too busy pining after you. For fourteen years. See, that’s what pining looks like. Holy fuck we’re old.’

‘Oh please. You’re just happy he’s gonna teach you how to properly twirl a lightsaber. The two of you are just gonna be waving your glow sticks in the driveway like dorks.’

‘Duh. Live-in Jedi master. How cool is that?’

‘Better?’

I think for a second. I have not wanted to metaphorically stick my head in an oven ala Sylvia Plath for a solid twenty minutes. (She has also hid our copy of The Bell Jar from me.) I am not crying hysterically and have not cried hysterically in a long time. If I have my way, nothing will ever make me cry that hard again except for puppies dying in movies.  

‘Better.’

‘Good, cuz you can drink this Ensure. You’ve only had two today.’

‘Oh my fucking god, please just end me. I can’t. I would rather lick your feet than drink another one of these. I would rather lick the dog’s feet. I ate lunch and dinner today. Two meals. I’m up to two. Do you know how much this shit tastes like ass? Chalky, chalky ass. It says chocolate, but it’s ass. No, please. Don’t make me. Oh god, no. Why. For fuck’s sake why.’

‘Cuz Em said you gotta have 3 a day. Cuz your ‘lunch’ and ‘dinner’ were like, one regular person meal. Do you want scurvy?’

‘I’m not a pirate. I can’t get scurvy.’

‘Don’t sass me. Drink it.’ She twists open the cap and hands me the bottle. I’m trapped now. She knows I hate wasting food.

‘Ughhhhhhhhh.’

‘The sooner you get back to eating, the sooner you don’t have to drink these. Speaking of which, I ordered you another case.’

‘Another case??? I’m back on food. I don’t need another case.’

‘I don’t need you getting cocky and then starving to death when I leave.’

‘I’m not gonna starve. There’s GrubHub and Seamless. And like, bread. I can eat toast.’

‘My god woman.’ She thwaps me upside the head. ‘Toast is not a meal. Toast is bread. Bread is nothing. Your grocery bill is gonna like, shrink to nothing.’

‘So not true. I eat. When like, I’m not depressed. I ate a whole burrito and burger the other day cuz I was pissed. Anger requires calories.’

‘Oh please. You have two modes. Eat everything in sight in like, two seconds, because you’re convinced you’ll never eat again. Or like, you pick at your food like some skinny ballerina.’

‘Well, you know why.’

‘Yeah, I know why. Still.’

I glance down at the Ensure bottle. She won’t budge until it’s empty and I know it’s good for me. Grimacing, I chug until it’s all gone. It’s better that way.

‘God, are you happy now?’

‘Yup.’

It occurs to me that this is the first time in my life someone has taken care of me when I’m like this. Usually, I spend weeks alone in my room, crying silently until I fall asleep. I end up fighting with parents or exes about why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I just turn off this part of my brain and power through?

‘I’m gonna miss you when you leave,’ I say.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she replies. ‘I’ll be a train ride away. And it won’t be that godawful ride when you were living in bumblefuck nowhere in Flushing.’

‘Still.’

‘Yeah.’

We sit in silence and watch the TV. She’s not leaving tomorrow. Or even the day after that. There’s still some time left.

‘Are you ever gonna give me my arm back?’ she gives me a look and I flash her my cheekiest smile.

‘When you’re gone, there’s no way I can curl up with M like this.’

‘...Fine.’