#so i'll do as much as i can this afternoon and night until maybe 2 am

[auburniivenus]

ooc; morning! so today i'll continue doing my drafts and asks. that inbox call will be re-bloged until sunday. also the starters i'll post them probably in sunday too since i have a lot of things accumulated! tomorrow this marshmallow will work in the morning so tonight i will not be up until late.

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

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Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

[thewriterghost]

Lovely!!!! Would you write something about Bucky x reader/ friend who moved to another state for work? They used to be really close and talk a lot but as things go with life and distance they drifted a part a bit? But maybe from time to time she’ll think she’ll see him from behind or a side profile walking home at night and think of him and send him a “thinking of you / we should catch up! text not realizing that from time to time that who she saw was Bucky. He will check in on her and see how she’s doing in her new life

Hello!! I'm so sorry, this is so late 😭 between school and internship I hardly got any time to write. In fact, I wrote this at work lol, hopefully you like it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You moved away from the compound because of school. It's been a lonely few months now. That's definitely the reason you think you're seeing Bucky from the corner of your eye every time you look around, right?

An autumn breeze catches you off guard, right when you are leaving your school building for the day. It was warmer during the day, you think as you walk to your bus stop. It's a lonely time of day, an orange glow of sunlight illuminates the empty bus stop.

As you make it a point to crash every red or yellow leaf you see on your way without being too obvious, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar metallic glow. That same feeling you always get around him, the butterflies and the hippos come back to your stomach, making your heart beat a million times a moment. Your eyes snap towards it, but it disappears all too fast for you to spot, leaving you with disappointment and longing.

You miss him. You try not to, but it's not easy not talking to him everyday like you did before, not being able to hang out on 3 am when both of you are too stubborn to go to sleep, or not being able to just exist at the same place at the same time with various animals in your stomach (figuratively).

You grab your phone from your pocket and click on his name on your messaging app. You hand hovers over the text box for a while, until you decide to just write to him. It's not like you haven't been talking since you left, it's more like you didn't want to talk all too much because of how much you'd want to just drop everything and go to him. Still, you think, enough is enough.

"Hey, you busy?"

You wait for a moment, anxiously nibbling on your lower lip. It doesn't take him more than 60 seconds to write back.

"Nope. You?"

You write back, biting down a smile.

"Nope. Just got out of school, going home."

You can almost hear his grumble-ish answers through your phone. A message pops up.

"Isn't it late? I thought you got off at 4."

You must've told him your schedule, but your mind doesn't come up with a memory to support it. You shrug it off and type.

"Yeah, I had to make a presentation and I was the last one of the class so the professor just agreed to do it now rather than next week."

"Does that mean you're free next week?"

You can't help but smile brightly. Looks like you're not the only one missing the other.

"Does that mean you miss me?"

You can almost see his scoff. You giggle to yourself.

"Does that mean we can meet?" He answers. You jump at the opportunity almost too fast.

"Yeah, sure. When are you free?"

"Whenever you're free."

"You don't have a mission or anything?"

"I'll bail." His answer makes you laugh out loud, maybe the first sincere laugh since you've been here.

"If it's not going to be a trouble for you."

"It won't. When should I pick you up?"

You check your schedule on your mind. You would be free tomorrow afternoon.

"Tomorrow afternoon? 2-ish maybe?"

"Sounds good."

You contemplate on whether to write it or not, but then think why not and type.

"I missed you, you know." And you put the phone on your pocket, face starting to burn up.

Your phone buzz, and you get the phone out faster than light.

"I missed you too." Your eyes glance over the letters more than once, each time smiling even more, until you find yourself giggling to yourself at 6 pm on an empty bus stop.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Another text appears on your screen, leaving you happier that you've ever been since the last few months.

Next day goes too slow for your taste. You keep finding yourself shaking your knee up and down with anticipation.

You are out of the door when the clock hits 2 pm. As you arrive at the school gates you realize you haven't told him where to come. You pull out your phone to type, but stop at your tracks when you hear it.

"Hey."

Sitting on a black motorcycle, blue eyes and black jacket catches you off guard. A smile creeps on to your lips.

"Hey." You return the sentence as you find your feet and move towards him. He has a gentle smile as well, uncharacteristically for him as people would say, but not for you. You've seen him like this before. When you were up all night and baked not one, not two, but three batches of cookies together, you've seen that same smile everytime your eyes have met. Or that one time when it was raining too hard and you were too sick to go to mission, and he stayed to look after you, cuddling you since he can't get sick because of serum.

He takes your helmet from the back and after looking at you with that sweet smile of his for a moment, he puts it on for you, clipping it with delicate movements.

"Hop on." He instructs and you obey, hugging him from behind with a pair of red cheeks which thankfully can't be seen thanks to your helmet.

As he takes off, you don't bother to ask where to. After a brief 10-15 minutes, he stops in front of a small cafe near a park.

"Were you around here yesterday?" You ask, recalling the silver glimmer you saw yesterday evening.

"I was on a mission." He shrugs.

"Huh." You mumble. Seeing his puzzled look, you add. "I thought I saw you yesterday, after school. Right before I texted you, in fact."

"You must've missed me a lot." He smirks, opening the door to the cafe for you. Always a gentleman.

"Must've." You return the smile as you walk in.

As you both get your coffees and pastries, you decide to ignore the fact that he probably was here yesterday. In fact, he probably was around since you moved here. Watching out for you, worrying about you, missing you.

"What are you smiling about?" You come back to real life when he gently nudges your shoulder with his.

"Oh, nothing." You shake your head. "I was just thinking, we should meet more often. It's been too long."

"Yeah, agreed." He replies with a smile of his own. You don't realize the look in his eyes, confirming your theory.

[jayden-killer]

DREAMS ARE MY REALITY.

what would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed..?

Part 2

A/N: finally came back! Exams period is almost done, so I can mainly focus on writing fan fics and replying to your comments. Thanks to everyone who never stopped giving me support during these months.~ For this story I was heavily inspired by the "Reality" song by Richard Sanderson. Last night I watched "La Boum" and something clicked in my mind the moment the movie titles came by. I highly recommend that movie (and its main song!).

☆

Fantastic. Another day gone bad. Not only I lost my notes taken at university with great effort (who knows where they flew thanks to the wind...), but it had rained until the end of the afternoon and a careless car passed by at great speed, soiling me with rain and migo mixed together.

«Ugh! You fucker!» My feet stomped hard on the dirt, realizing that what had just happened was just the beginning of a long evening. I'll just open the front door, walk into the kitchen, and throw my comfort on the sofa that I look forward to.

It seemed like an eternity would pass on the way back, and my body barely even managed to walk, almost like a dead weight. Don't walk on the ground. That would have been the last straw.

«Shit,» I thought aloud, the moment my eyes saw my house from afar, «Finally home». Taking the keys out of the backpack was also, a real pain in the ass: a real tangle of wires and metal had formed there since my headphones had not been folded properly. A sigh escaped from my lips the moment I walked through the front door, searching with difficulty for the light switch. I didn't waste any more time removing the ruined clothes (and placing them in a water bath) and letting a hot shower melt my nerves. It was just what I needed.

I knew I had a smile as I lathered my body thoroughly. Now the scent of lavender was something calming.

``I should make some tea too``.

~

«Oh, now that's what I am talking about! ». My smile didn't leave my face, as I excitedly opened the book I had left hanging a few days ago, due to my exam period. Being under stress didn't help me find the concertation and desire to identify myself with the main character of the book. ``That's enough``. This thought flooded my mind. ``Now you can rest, because you deserve it, so enjoy your reading``.

``Thanks, other me, maybe you're right`` I replied to the little inner voice that I assumed had a satisfied grin on her face.

Yet my eyes fell on the mega poster that took up most of my bedroom wall: Miguel O'Hara. This man was going to be the death of me one of these days. I remembered the day when my heart wanted him only for me: in the new Spiderman, starring Miles Morales, many would have said that he was the perfect villain, even if I kept countering, claiming the opposite. Of course, his anger issues didn't help get people on his side. He was perfect in every aspect: tall, muscular, intelligent, thoughtful. My god, where do I have to sign to have him next to me?

«Too good to be true». I sighed aloud again as I pulled my attention away from the poster and back into my book. I think it wasn't long after I started reading and my eyes started to get heavy. I might have let go of the book, and fallen asleep with it on my chest. It had been a bad day in every way. Perhaps that is the reason I imagined hugging Miguel more than once. Maybe that's why I also felt my mattress getting heavier under my back.

~

I was awakened by the sun's rays penetrating through the curtains of my room. I loudly grunted at the thought of getting up early to do my daily cleaning chores around the house. But what harm would it have been to stay in my warm bed for at least an hour longer? Turning over, I had the feeling that my bed had gotten much heavier. Or was I still dreaming of hugging Miguel?

Slowly my eyes opened and focused on an unfamiliar figure lying next to me. I had a moment of confusion. Why...was there a person in my bed?

Only when I fully focused on who was in front of me I almost fainted on the spot.

"AAAAHH!" I grabbed the first pillow nearby, slapping the stranger hard several times, and leapt out of bed, the pillow still in my hands. The man, taken aback, tripped on the ground, and a great thud resounded in the bedroom. I hugged the pillow tightly to my chest. Oh, holy god. What was happening at that moment? I was so confused I could have sworn my face was as just as confused.

The man grunted aloud and scrambled to his feet, throwing his hands in surrender.

«What the fuck did I do?!» he yelled, in sheer confusion too. Maybe at that moment, I could have passed out, I swear to whoever you want! Because whoever I had in front of me was a real dream.

«Holy shit...»

«What?!»

I swallowed hard. «You are Miguel O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara was in my room, in my bed!»

[wannaeatramyeon]

More Gun content pleaseeeeeeeeee! If not, it's fine! Love your works, love your style, love your writings, well I, JUST love you! (YOU! For making lookism characters even more likeable even outside the manhwa!)

This is the FORTH time I asked and counting!

So people start having a nickname or whatever you call it when they ask or just say something. So I think I'll have to make my own...

I don't have any idea right now. Sadddddd!

Well I think that's all for now. Have good morning, noon, afternoon, evening and night sweetie, take careeeeeee!

"If not, it's fine!". Like I could say no. Thanks for asking unnamed anon and honestly thank you so much for your kind words! I'm still ill and feeling like I have less and less to say these days outside of just banging some writing out but this is just so face meltingly SWEET. You take care too!

Gun Park x Reader: Just moved in

Gun doesn't know what to make of this.

Those are your clothes all over his bedroom, no, your shared bedroom floor.

Somewhere under there was a pristine floor. Not that he ever cared much for the floor, but now that he can't see it, he cares about it an awful lot.

And it's not like he doesn't have enough space, or hasn't given you space. In his walk-in wardrobe he has allocated an entire wall for you yet most of your clothes just fit in these 2 drawers - you proved your point by cramming them in haphazardly with a grin.

That should have been a warning sign.

Gun bends down to pick up a few items of clothing, lamenting how it felt like only yesterday he was picking up someone's teeth after knocking them out, and now this is what he's doing.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices a flash of colour.

Ah, he's forgotten about that.

The ugly purple plushie sitting on your pillow. Sort of shaped like a rabbit, sort of shaped like a bear, definitely shaped like a monster.

He really regrets winning you that on an earlier date. You had grown far too attached and sentimental, and with anyone else that thing would have gone in the bin. Maybe even burned.

Yet with you... and to add insult to injury, that monstrosity now lives on the bed.

On top of all that, Gun thinks as he searches the penthouse for you to have a word about your disorganisation, the hideous plushie best left for another day, he thinks about your words to him the other day.

"You're using the knife wrong!"

Not professing to be a weapon expert, that's Goo Kim's territory, but Gun damn well knows how to use a chef's knife. For fucking dinner prep of all things.

Then you had the audacity to pluck it out his hand, and cut up the onion quicker and more efficiently. It still grates him to think about-

"Fuck!" Gun stumbles over a particularly large plant pot. Where the fuck-? Oh, of course. You and your fucking plants too. You must have about a million of them and now they are taking over the entire goddamn place.

"Y/N-" he starts, but the rest of his words die on his tongue when he sees you reading in the living room. Some music that absolutely is not his taste, but is completely yours playing.

The whole place feels a little warmer. With you. Less clinical than it used to be.

You glance up and give him that soft smile of yours, "Hey," and Gun realises he is totally done for.

Completely smittened and besotted. You can keep your ugly plushie, and your stupid plants and teach him how to use a knife properly.

In a handful of steps, Gun crosses the room to you, pressing a kiss on your lips. He cups the back of your head, and deepens it until you are leaning in and chasing for more.

He's wrong. There are no warning signs. Only constant signals since the day you met how well you would fit together. Sure there are minor cracks, but that is normal with any couples moving in together for the first time.

Normal. That's a first for Gun Park too.

Gun breaks away with a smirk on his face. Your pupils are completely blown, and cheeks flushed. Clearly you want more...

You need to earn it first.

"Clean up your fucking clothes." Gun says as you jolt in shock at his words.

True, he's utterly enamoured with you, but a man's gotta have standards.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Everything Goes On Pt. 2

[It's all very complicated. Part One Here. Not suitable for younger audiences.] Below the cut.

It's chaos when the other ghouls find out.

A mixed up, confusing mess of emotions, and far too many fingers between pointed in one direction or the other, when, really, it's none of their business.

Except it is.

Even if the two had separated on better terms, the others would be, at the very least, curious.

Relationships like the one between Aether and Dewdrop are...

They're different.

In the pit, dating isn't a thing.

You maybe find a mate you can tolerate and spend the night with, maybe pop out a few kits, more so to keep the species from dying out than any real desire to have and raise children, and then you go on living mostly solitary.

That's just how it goes.

But on the surface, it's different.

A pairing like Aether and Dewdrop wouldn't have happened otherwise.

Their bond had been instant, or at the very least if you asked Aether, he'd certainly say it was.

Dew on the other hand...

"It's not that I don't love you, this is all so... so new."

He fell slowly.

"I don't know if I'm doing this right, but... but I'm going to try."

Carefully.

"I can't imagine waking up without you snoring in my ear."

Deeply.

So while Aether is preparing to leave it all behind for greener pastures, and maybe find a lover who can love him right, Dew is left wondering what he did wrong.

What he did to deserve this.

To not deserve someone as wonderful as Aether.

And he stews in those thoughts.

Lays in the bed one of the custodians who tends to the abbey went out of his way to set up for him in the room that would now be... his.

Just his.

It's smaller.

Barely bigger than a glorified storage closet.

That's why none of the other ghouls took it for themselves.

Crammed in-between Mountain and Cumulus' rooms.

But it's... it's better than having to go back to the room he shared with Aether.

"Once we have one of the larger rooms cleaned out, we can move you in there if you'd prefer?" the taller man proposes, "I know it's not much..."

"It's fine." Dew says, setting down the backpack he stuffed his clothes into on top of the small box of the other miscellaneous bullshit he owns, "...Really."

"Hm..." he looks around the small space, then gestures towards the corner of his room, "I'll bring you a desk and a chair later this afternoon... and you're sure there's no other furniture you'd like? Nothing from your old room?"

Dew thinks for a moment.

"Maybe... maybe my bookshelf?"

"Bookshelf. Got it."

And just like that... Dew's alone again.

He gives himself a little tour of the space.

In that he turns and looks at one wall and then the next before going to take stock of the small on suite attached to his new room.

It has a toilet and a pedestal sink with a cabinet set behind the mirror, but no bath or even a shower.

It's cramped, too.

Clearly an afterthought.

If he wasn't still reeling from what he walked in on the day before, on thinking the others were standing around mocking him, then he might consider asking to use one of theirs until he works up the courage to start using the communal baths again, but he's still...

He's sore about.

He never did bother to check in, to ask what they were laughing about...

But why would he?

Would they even tell him?

Or would they just laugh and look down on him?

He side-eyes his phone.

He never did check who messaged him last night, and now he doesn't want to.

If they cared...

If the others care about him, they can come here and see him themselves.

But they haven't even looked at him when he passes them in the halls.

Maybe they're ignoring him under the impression that that's what he wants.

That he needs space.

It's a generous thought.

More understanding than he would have been in the past for sure.

But...

Dew sits down on his unmade bed.

Feels himself sink into the foam, held aloft only by the mattress cover.

...he could really use a friend right now.

.

.

.

Mountain isn't sure how to handle this.

The situation between Aether and Dew.

Or really the lack of a situation.

Both of them have been his friends for years now, and, although he loathed being a third wheel, this felt... messy.

The others are also conflicted, but, well...

"It's not... It's not any of our business." Mountain sighs for the hundredth time, "Just leave them both be."

"It's going to be our business if Dew goes nutty without Aeth around anymore." Swiss comments, looking to Cumulus and Cirrus, who nod, "I love the dude, but he's never been the best at handling rejection, and I-"

"Oh for the love of Satan, shut up!" Rain hisses from the couch, "Listen to Mounty and leave it alone."

"You know I'm right though." Swiss crosses his arms, "Aeth balances Dew out!"

"Aether taught Dew how to balance himself out, the rest Dew managed on his own. He fucking had to, that's how that shit works." the water ghoul huffs.

"I get where you're coming from, Rain, but we all saw what happened to Aether's stuff after he talked to Dew yesterday..." Cirrus frowns, "...it was all very deliberate and spiteful."

"Tell me you wouldn't be even a little fucked up if Cumulus left." Rain counters, "And then, imagine, that after all of that, half of your friends are saying you're the problem, or that you're unbalanced because you're upset!"

"It's not the same thing."

"...but it is." Cumulus speaks up, "I'm sorry, Cir, but Rainy has a point..."

Mountain pushes his chair back and stands.

"Where are you going, big guy?" Swiss asks, watching the earth ghoul head for the hallway.

"I'm not going to sit around and listen to you guys debate over whose fault it is that those two broke up. I'm not going to... demonize one over the other because of this." he says, "And, seriously, I need you all to think about why you immediately jumped to the conclusion you all -barring Rain- did... Like, really, isn't Dew our friend, too? Why are you acting like he isn't hurt by all of this?"

"Well..." the multi-ghoul hums thoughtfully, "Why are you on Dew's side then?"

"I'm not on anyone's side." Mountain glares, "Both of my friends are hurting right now, and I don't want to hurt them further by trying to judge who's right and who's wrong."

The walk back to his dorm is an introspective one.

While he does feel need to be there for both of his friends in this trying time, it's hard for him to wrap his head around Aether's decision to leave to begin with, but to end things with Dew, too...

"...Can we talk?" Mountain asks, watching Aether pack his things from the doorway, "It's fine if you don't-"

"Nah, it's... Sure." Aether sags, tired, "Sure, let's talk."

Not wanting to fully intrude, Mountain leans against the doorframe.

"Why are you doing this, Aether?" he asks, "Why now?"

"It's better to rip off the bandaid now, rather then leave it be, ya know?" Aether says, picking up a shirt from his dresser and tossing it on the other side of the bed, "A few months of separation and Dew would have broken up with me instead of the other way around."

"If that were the case, you should have told him a month ago, when you found out your application got accepted, or, I dunno, maybe you should have told him you applied for a ministry job in another country to begin with..."

"I was going to, but..." Aether pauses his sorting and turns to face Mountain, leaning back on the dresser, "I love Dew. I really love him but we're not... We don't want the same things anymore. He and I... we both deserve a chance at meeting someone we actually click with."

"What do you want, Aether? What is it that you want that you can't have with Dew?" Mountain questions, "He... You know he's going to wonder about this. If you really do love him, don't leave him hanging without giving him that much."

"Why should I?"

"What?"

"Why should I have to spell it out for him every time there's a problem?!" Aether growls, "He's a grown ass man, if he can't figure it out for himself-"

"Aether."

"...I'm sorry." he pinches the bridge of his nose, "You want the truth, Mount? The honest to god truth? I want a family."

Mountain watches the sadness in his friend's eyes grow over the steely haze of frustration that had been building there moments ago.

"I want a family, and I can't have that with Dew."

"...Why not?"

Aether stands up straight and heads over the shut his suitcase.

"Can you imagine Dew as a parent? He could barely take care of himself up until a couple years ago, and that's only because I spent ages trying to learn what makes him goddamn tick." he says, "I'm ready to step back from things and slow down and he's... he's still acting like we're a couple of kits. I... I don't have the energy to put up with him anymore, so I ended things now before things got any... any worse."

"I'm tired of being his caretaker, Mount."

Mountain pulls away from the doorframe.

"...I see."

"You can tell that to Dew if you want." Aether says, resuming his folding, "...He probably won't give a shit one way or the other."

"You know..." Mountain tilts his head, "...You're entitled to feel however you want, but..."

"But what, Mount?"

"I might be your friend, Aether, but I'm Dew's friend, too."

"...And? Going to pick sides like the others?" Aether scoffs, "Go ahead. Give it a week and you'll see I'm doing what's best for both of us."

Mountain stares.

"...Maybe it is a good thing you two broke up."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, because Dew doesn't deserve to be with someone who looks at him like a burden."

Aether clicks his tongue.

"Well, at least one of us can see the truth."

[homomenhommes]

My Sexy Trip - Part 1

The first day, I flew out of Powell River to Vancouver, and took a motel near the airport.

I had met a young man on line 4 or 5 years ago and we had continued to chat but had

never been able to meet in person. I'll call him Alex(andro) for the purposes of this

tale. He is a 35 year old Latino immigrant, with a good, but exacting job in the city.

Today was our first time to meet in person. We had planned to spend all afternoon and

evening together. Unfortunately, my flight was delayed 3 hours, so it was  dinner time

by the time Alex arrived, so we had a nice dinner together, getting to know each other a bit, 

before we went back to my motel. It then took us only moments to get naked, because we

both knew that we anted each other by this time. 

His cock was huge. You can see for yourself in the picture. Mine is about 3 inches. 

Figure it out for yourself. I estimate his was about 10 inches hard, and quite thick.

Like me, he is a touchy-feely person, so we spent a lot of time hugging, kissing, and

rubbing together. He was also very much into sucking cock, and although I could get

much of his cock in my mouth, he could get all of mine in his mouth and worked on it

until the rim started to get sore, probably the most my cock has been sucked at one 

time ever!

Eventually, I asked him to fuck me, which he proceeded to do, very carefully. It hurt

quite a bit going in, but he gradually fed it into me and I relaxed to take it. Little by 

little he inched it in until he was fully inside me, and we started a long, slow fuck.

It seemed to go on forever, until I eventually asked him to take it out of me. My hole was

sore for several days afterwards.

Our sexual encounter had lasted about three hours! The picture I have included was taken 

afterwards.I have blacked out his face to protect his anonymity, but believe me, he 

is very handsome!

We had planned to meet again on my return to Vancouver, but as you know, I got very

sick, and had to cancel. I hope we will meet again someday soon!

My Sexy Trip - Part 2

Twenty-four years ago, when I first got onto the internet, I went looking for other gay men, on all the available sites, using all the available chat groups.

I eventually connected with a man named Joe, a 35 year old American Serviceman in New York State. We started private chatting using some very basic video chat programme. I think it was called icu2 or something like that. It provided us with a very small image of each other and reasonable sound. It had its flaws, but at the time we thought it was amazing. We could see each other, and we could talk to each other. We also used Skype when it became available,  for video calls and phone calls.

Unlike so many of the "I'm in the American Armed forces" phonies you meet on line, Joe was for real. He really was a serviceman wanting to hook up with Mr. Right, and for me he was Mr. Right. Our chats soon led to online masturbation together, which we would do almost ever night, but that eventually led to us just staring into each other's eyes, wishing we were together. Let's face it. We fell in love. But it was a hopeless situation. I was a retired 60 year old schoolteacher in a small town in Canada, and he was a 35 year old career serviceman, still being transferred all over the states. Sadly we both knew there was no future for us. Joe made the choice for us. He stopped answering my calls. I was not angry about it. I knew he had to do it. He had a life to live.

Time passed. It was probably five years later. I got a message on Apple iMessage. It was headed with a telephone number. I recognized it. It was Joe's. All he said at first was "Hi", but when I recognized the number I was so glad to hear from him. We started chatting again. I learned that he had been transferred to San Francisco area, and had met an older man. They had been together for a couple of years. He was happy, but had never forgotten me. 

Over the next fifteen years, Joe and I chatted at rare intervals, maybe once a year, just to keep in touch. Joe married his partner, and they retired to Palm Springs. His partner owned a home in Denver also, so they spend winters in Palm Springs and summers in  Denver. 

Once Brad, my travel companion for the Mexican cruise, said that he wanted to have a couple of days in Palm Springs, I tested the waters to see if Joe wanted to meet in person after  all these years. He very much wanted to, and talked it over with his partner, Bill, who is 89, and after a harrowing bout with prostate cancer  is no longer much interested in sex. Bill has been encouraging Joe to look for sexual release with other men. I even talked with the two of them by phone and Bill gave his approval to Joe and I spending an afternoon together.

So, the day after we landed in Palm Springs, my travel companion, Brad, took off to spend the day at a gay dude ranch, and left me to spend the afternoon with my dream lover of twenty years before. 

I was waiting for Joe in the motel parking lot when he arrived, and suggested we start the afternoon by the motel pool, rather than meeting in a dreary, dark motel room. So that's what we did. Joe was much like I had seen on those tiny screens — older, yes, and heavier than 20 years before. But what I had never realized before because of the black and white screens, and later poor color quality, was that Joe was a redhead – or had been, because now he was more dirty blonde rather than grey, But his eyebrows were still quite ginger — I later found so were his pubes.  And his eyes! They we the same pale blue I had gazed into for hours years before. He was all I had hoped for.

And as he told me, I was still all that he he had wanted and hoped for. We both saw each other as the Mr. Right we had been looking for.

We still had only to try whether we would mesh together sexually. We went to my motel room. In moments we were kissing and stripping simultaneously. It was rather awkward because Joe is 6'2" and I am only 5'4", but we were hot and horny. We had waited 24 years for this. I injected my dick, hoping to get a decent hard-on, but Joe didn't care anyway. He wanted me just as I was. 

We flopped onto the bed, and for the next two hours hugged, and fondled,  and kissed and sucked and stared into each other's eyes just as we had longed to do 24 years before. I fondled and sucked his 7 inch, thick, rigid shaft with a hammer head while he did the same to my tiny flaccid one, which was not responding to the tri-mix today.

Eventually we decided it was time for him  to fuck me, to bring 24 years to a climax. As I have said, his dick was very thick, and shaped like the head of a hammer. My ass was still sore from Alexandro's massive dick three days before, and Joe's cock was just as thick as Alexandro's but 7" instead of 10". Joe was very gentle and as we lay spooned together fed his mighty tool into my waiting ass. It was a long, slow, beautiful fuck for both of us, a taste of what might have been. When he eventually shot his cum into me, we lay locked together for quite a while.

Both of us were grateful for this chance to get together, if only for one time. We don't regret the past. We just relish the single opportunity that we had. Nor do our companions resent or regret the meeting. All four of us went for dinner together the next night, all of us knowing that Joe and I had finally fucked, and everyone was happy for us!--

~~

+

[dreamersdivine]

c!dream x reader. it’s before all the wars start but reader and dream are together and reader starts to see the person dreams becoming and tries to stop him but dream is dream yk. angst :)

Can do ♡ :>

It's a bit longer than I meant it to be T^T

Part 2.

Everything was perfect. You spent countless afternoons running in the fields with your best friends teasing and joking until the sun came up.

You lived with all of them within what you called the community center. Other friends would come and go; Sam, Alyssa, Callahan, but the three that stayed was what you jokingly called the Dream team. It was compromised of three people; George the British one, Sapnap the hot headed one, and of course Dream your lovely boyfriend.

Dream was the best he treated you with such kindness and compassion. He almost treated you as if you were glass ready to shatter if he looked away from a moment.

He knew everything about you. Your favorite book, flower, food. And you knew everything about him. Or at least you thought you did- Every good thing comes to an end right....

The first time you had seen an emotion that wasn't fueled by joy and kindness was when they arrived. Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit. They seemed fairly okay to you. The two setting off into the forest nearby without so much as a glance at you all as soon as they realized you were "americans"

You brushed it off as Dream just being wary of the new people. To be fair you didn't have any reason to trust them but they hasn't given you any reason to not trust them either.

"I don't want those two anywhere near here," Dream said one night. He, Sapnap, and George were huddled around a table.

"Are you talking about the boy? The blonde one and the fuzzy haired one?" You asked curious.

Dream looked up with such distaste you recoiled. Immediately the look on his face softened. He left the table coming to hold you closer. "I'm just worried about our safety is all. I don't know what they're capable of and I don't want anything to happen to you,"

"Right of course,"

You didn't hear anything about the other people in the valley for weeks. You didn't even know more people had come until there was one on your doorstep.

"Hi? Who are you?" You asked softly looking the blonde up and down.

The pose he had taken radiated laid back but cocky. "Punz," a voice from behind you greeted.

"Dream," he smirked.

"Glad you could make it,"

Punz moved in with you all, he then became something of a bodyguard for you. Punz was by your side 24/7. Dream had asked him to protect you, and not only that but teach you sword skills.

Something had changed. The air had an unfamiliar scent.

Suddenly there was no more late night laughing under the stars. It was late nights gathering materials for weapons and armor. Ways to become stronger. The boys had become a bit colder. Of course they were still especially sweet to you but other than that they seemed serious.

Dream was the worst of all though. Something about these new people asking and now demanding freedom had started to change him. You couldn't even begin to describe it but you were watching him unravel before your very eyes and there was nothing you could do about it.

You tried many times

"Maybe you should just allow their freedom,"

"Most of them are children-"

"We shouldn't have to take and destroy what's theirs,"

Each way it ended the same Dream would wave you off and dismiss what you've said.

"Dream I don't like this...person you're becoming. I wish you could just see from my point of view. You're not the same person anymore. These thoughts they're poisoning you," you pleaded.

"Thoughts about being rid of weaknesses are poison?" He laughed. You had decided to confront him one last time.

"I- I mean it Dream. If you don't stop, I'm leaving. We'll be finished,"

He shook his head slowly giving you no verbal response.

"I'll leave to the badlands, I know Sam would be happy to have me there,"

"Go ahead,"

"What?"

"Go ahead. Go to the badlands. Go complain to Sam. One less weakness I'll have to get rid of,"

Those words drove into your heart like a knife. "Get- get rid of?"

Dream turned to face you. "Get rid of," he repeated.

You were stunned. In your brains confusion to reply you found your body moving before you could stop it.

Stumbling through the house, past George and Sapnap's worried echoes, past that fucking prick Punz and out the backdoor

You slammed the door shut with tears burning in your eyes. You attempted to take a large breath of air before you choke on sobs.

It was then you finally recognized that oh so unfamiliar scent, the air...it smelled like the beginnings of war

[firecaptainphoenix]

More than 2%

WHO: Phoenix Romero-Sawyer & Aslan ‘Dodger' Özdemir

The fever that you gave me Led me sweating to a summer Can I believe once more? If I can be next to you somehow Next winter I'll be fine

Phoenix was feeling conflicted as he walked through the ren faire, messing with the orange tennis ball in his hands. The night at the bar still replayed through his head as he walked. Maybe I already have. It was a joke, it had to be, but it was also Dodger, who always lived somewhere in that gray area of his life. Rubbing his face he sighed thinking over the chat he had with Jay, he was honest with her before anyone else. Always making sure he was clear with his intentions. He wasn't sure when she'd gotten not only so much smarter than him but also mature. 

Spotting a familiar figure sleeping under a tree in the park he felt his gaze soften. Walking up he dropped the tennis ball onto his chest, ”You know there's a whole faire going on around you and you're sleeping through it,“ he said with a grin on his face.

The aim had been to meet Emrys after his triumphant win at the jousting tournament, but after crushing defeat instead, Dodger decided to let the youngster have some time to himself, wallowing or causing havoc or whatever it was he was doing. No doubt he’d turn up with a pocket full of shit he’d taken from peoples booths and, as he always did, Dodger would tell him how proud he was.

How a stroll through the park had turned into a Power Nap, Dodger wasn’t entirely sure, but at least he knew he hadn’t passed out and had been competent enough to find a tree to curl up underneath. The voice, and the sudden jolt on his chest startled him awake, and he looked up, unable to distinguish the face of the man in front of him initially with the afternoon sun shining in his eyes, glittering around the silhouette of the man’s head like a halo. “I’ve seen what I need to see,” he pressed a hand hard onto his eye, rubbing the sleep from it with such intensity a red mark remained even after his hand moved. “You know there’s a whole faire going on around you and you’re over here talking to me?” He echoed back, eyes adjusting to see the face of Phoenix gazing down at him.

Phoenix had stuffed his hand in his pockets, sticking his foot out to keep the tennis ball from rolling away after it slid off Dodger. Sitting down in front of him he picked it back up and tossed it from hand to hand. "I've done a lap around, seen what I need to see," he shot back a smirk on his face. "I haven't seen you today so here I am," he said, eyes flicking to the mark on his face and shaking his head. "Did you actually try and have some fun, or just make a bee line to this tree?"

Much like a dog would after a nap, Dodger remained where he had been asleep and stretched his body out on the spot, legs and toes pointing far out and his arms raised above his head. Something clicked when he did but he couldn’t be sure which part of his body was creaking this time. “Aww and you came to see little old me?” He let his hands flop back to his sides, and he patted the grass next to him, prompting Phoenix to air next to him, “I feel honored.” What time even was it? “I’ve had fun,” he said defensively, “it’s not like I sleep all the time. Anyway, where’s Jay? Is she enjoying herself? Kids always love days like this. Kids and Duck.”

"You should be, though I'm afraid I didn't bring any beer, you'll just have to settle for my company until you're ready to get up," Phoenix said grinning down at him. Shifting to sit closer when Dodger motioned for him too, he'd always been a bit too ready to follow along with him. At the mention of Jay his grin softens to a smile and he nods, "She is actually, off with that boy she likes. Took after her dad that one, likes the quiet ones with that pissed off look." As much as he may have intimated the boy on occasions, he did genuinely like Felipe and appreciated what he was to his daughter. "She did request that you come watch the jousting with us at least once, and the archery booth. Wants to win you a prize."

Dodger let out a low groan and rolled his eyes. "If you didn't bring beer, how am I supposed to pretend that your presence is tolerable?" He said with a stern face and a single raised eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching ever so slightly into a smile. Not that Phoenix would be able to see it properly as he shuffled in closer to Dodger, allowing the sleepy man to rest his head on the Romero's lap. "Off with a boy? At her age? Thought all they cared about at that age were superheroes and puppies?" A joke obviously, Dodger had known Jay long enough to get a sense of her personality and how she seemed mature for her age, something he couldn't relate to at all. "I can come along for the jousting. I got a friend that's entered so I need to show him some support anyway."

When Dodger slips into his lap, Phoenix feels his cheeks flush, setting both hands behind himself to lean on. "You're breaking my heart, and here I thought we had something special. But you just want me for my beers," Phoenix said, letting his smile fade as he did his best to look distraught. His lips still twitched, a smile returning and laughing when Dodger described Jay. "She's 15, I'm pretty sure this is when boys enter the equation. Thankfully he's not getting into fights like I was for you at their age." Looking down at him curiously he asked, "Oh yeah, who's your friend? Already replacing me for not bringing you a beer?"

"If I really wanted to break your heart, I'm sure I could, but that's a lot of effort on my part." He glanced up at Phoenix for a moment, catching the underside of that strong jaw, and Dodger reached up, grabbing one of his friends hands and bringing it down to rest in his hair. "Am I an anomaly then? I don't remember liking boys or getting into fights at 15." He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to his younger years as Phoenix played with his hair, how funny that despite everything the two of them were still here. "Nah he does me favors now and again. Squeezes into spaces I can't. I think he looks up to me for...whatever reason. But your position is safe; I don't think he's even old enough to buy beer yet."

"You'd be surprised how little effort you'd need to do that," Phoenix admitted as he started running his fingers through Dodger's hair. Thinking it over before shrugging, "Well I don't remember liking boys at 15 either, was barely in my 20s when Bradley happened," chuckling he gives him an amused smile, "Also what fights would you even have been in, I took care of that for you." It feels odd to reflect on that time, he'd been so angry and quiet, Dodger being the one who could get him to relax and smile. He snorts at the description he's given, "Is this how you tell me you accidentally adopted a child? Because now you're just risking Jay getting jealous as losing her favorite uncle."

Dodger paused, and tilted his head up once more to catch Phoenix's gaze. "Lucky for you, little effort is kinda how I roll." Not that he needed to tell Phoenix that; the Romero had seen it all first hand, watching him grow from a boy to a man with his ambitions and drive waining more and more with each passing year. But Dodger wasn't unhappy, no matter what people would think. He had everything he needed. "You never had to take care of the fights," Dodger shuffled a little, twisting on the spot to face Phoenix fully, "I'd have won that shit before you jumped in." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I did not adopt a child, I've seen how much work it takes to raise one. But Jay isn't getting rid of me that easy, she's still my favorite. You both are."

Phoenix moved his hand through his hair, occasionally rubbing the other's forehead with his thumb. "Not always, always felt like you put in the effort  for me," he quipped, an easy grin on his face. He couldn't think of a time Dodger missed a meeting between them, been late sure, but never slept through that. Chuckling he shrugged, "Well maybe I just like protecting you, be a shame for something to happen to that pretty face." Moving his hand he flicked his finger on Dodger's forehead before going back to playing with his hair. He could feel his gaze softened, maybe it was the way he spoke of Jay so fondly that made him even more charmed by his friend. "We better be, hate to have to sign up for the joust just to re-earn your favor. Doesn't look good for the fire captain to have a grudge against some kid."

"I did," Dodger was quick to answer. Effort was something to be earned, as far as he was concerned, and maximum effort all the time exhausted people, wore then out and grounded them down until there was nothing left worth knowing. That's why he would happily float through life, putting in the effort for those who really deserved it, and Phoenix, in one form or another, had always been one of those people. "Aww, you think I'm pretty," he fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, looking up at Phoenix with a pout on his face, feigning cuteness, the flick against his head breaking his character and warranting a chuckle. "Thank you." He shuffled back into position, one hand coming up to idly draw vague shapes against Phoenix' thigh. "I'd say if you develop a grudge against a kid, you're a bit weird and probably have some underlying issues. But...you are a Romero, so that is kinda expected," he followed with another laugh, "no, but I promise, no one is gonna replace you and Jay's spot in my life, okay."

"Hmm, well aren't I special," Phoenix mumbled softly, it was meant to be a joke but it came out more genuine than he'd meant it to. It was odd to compare the Dodger everyone else seemed to see with the other he saw. Had seen when Dodger was willing to put in the effort, hell he'd done it not just with him but with Jay. It was more than he'd ever expected but it had solidified how he felt about the other man, and trusted him with what was most important to him. "Careful your ego gets any bigger and your head won't fit in my lap anymore. Wouldn't that just be a shame," he said, eyes flickering down to his thigh. He felt a warm flush spread on his face as he turned his gaze back to Dodger instead of the swirls on his thigh. "I'm the Romero you stuck around with," he grumbled, "Though I am a Sawyer now too so maybe that evened out my issues." Thinking of Bradley and looking at Dodger it struck him how similar the two made him feel, and how patient they always seemed to be with him. "Hey, can I try something? Just something I want to try and if it's weird we never talk about it again. We just stay the same, just you and me against the world."

Dodger could have lay here in complete silence and still felt comfortable, not just physically but mentally too. There was a stability that Phoenix provided to Dodger's life, one that he always had. "It would be a shame; you're damn comfortable." It wasn't a lie, to the point if Dodger closed his eyes any more he could drift back off into another nap, but that meant it would cut their time together short. He never liked cutting their interactions short. "Yeah, you are the Romero I stuck around with, and I'll continue to stick with, okay?" Maybe if he'd been closer in age to another Romero they would have ended up as a closer friend than Phoenix, but honestly Dodger was happy with the cards he'd been dealt. As Phoenix spoke, Dodger shuffled once more so that he was laying on his back, facing up at Phoenix as the back of his head remained on his lap. "Try something? Sure, as long as you're not gonna drop that ball on my face or something."

"You're as bad as my kid, just using me for a pillow," Phoenix grumbled Though he didn't actually sound particularly bothered by this. He tugged lightly on his hair before settling his hand back on his head, thumb brushing against his forehead. He'd been the one to come after Hawk and Duck, two of the loudest in his family, it had people expecting him to act a certain way. He lived up to the rep some days, fighting and cursing as much as they had, but he'd found his few friends and kept to himself. Content to just be with Dodger most of the time, he didn't need much, just having at least one person who saw him as just Phoenix was enough. "I'll hold you to that." Chuckling at his words he shook his head, "No that wasn't the plan," he mumbled. He moved his hand from his hair to grip his shirt. Tugging Dodger into a sitting position he stared at him wondering if this was a good idea. Shifting so they were now facing each other. Shrugging he pulled Dodger towards him and kissed him, surprised by how comfortable he felt doing it. Pulling back he let go of his shirt and scratched at his beard, "Was that...uh...was that ok with you? Cause I...I wouldn't mind doing that again."

“Y’know I think I might be worse. You are super comfortable, and I’m not gonna be as polite about it.” And he shuffled in closer, honestly considering wrapping his arms around Phoenix’s leg to prove the point of just how pillow-like he was. But this was Dodger after all, and he could find any surface comfortable. Perhaps it was the warmth of Phoenix’s body and their closeness as friends that made him all the more comfortable. Dodger didn’t protest as Phoenix grabbed onto his shirt, following every move the Romero made until their lips pressed together. Did it take him by surprise? Yes and no, the reasoning for the yes being that he had just been woken from a nap. He was groggy and confused enough as it was without his best friend leading him into a kiss. It stopped, and Dodger moved back for a moment, eyes looking over the face of Phoenix and the genuine happiness that he seemed to exude from that one simple action. “That was…yes…okay with me.” He paused, letting their eyes linger together a little longer before his body acted on its own and Dodger began to slowly toss a leg over to straddle the man, sitting on his lap. “We can do it again,” and Dodger instigated, putting both hands on either side of Phoenix’s face, pulling him back in for another kiss, but this time he had no intention of letting it end so soon.

There's a part of Phoenix that almost can't meet Dodger's eyes. Is worried about what he'll see when he pulls back. But he keeps his gaze locked on him, it's Dodger, one of the few people  he's ever trusted with every part of himself. He trusts him, trusting in the fact that their friendship has survived over the years for a reason. Sighing in relief when Dodger agrees, he laughs surprised by how relieved he does feel. Grunting in surprise when the other man moves into his lap. His hands instinctively move to Dodger's waist, how natural everything is feeling making his heart speed up. "Yea...ok," he mumbles, leaning into his hands and kissing him back. He's been with people since Bradley, well he's been with women. Not a single one had made his heart race with something as simple as a kiss. "I did tell Jay about this," he mumbles in between kissing him.

This has not been on the list of things that Dodger had expected to happen today, nor was it something that he’d consider would happen ever. Yet, here he was, straddling the lap of one of his closest friends since he’d been a kid, embracing him with kiss after long kiss as if they’d been lovers for years. Maybe they had and Dodger hadn’t known it, taken their closeness at face value as just “best friends”, but this…made it all make sense. “Told Jay?” He questioned equally in the small gap between kisses, “that you were planning to kiss me?” He shuffled on Phoenix’s lap a little more until their bodies couldn’t get much closer, Dodger’s chest flush with Phoenix’s as he pushed in for another kiss, letting his hands drift down from the others face to glide down his sides.

Phoenix isn't sure what he'd expected to happen between them. There was the thought that they'd pull back and laugh, agreeing to be friends only. The dark cloud that was his fears had said he'd lose Dodger, maybe not as a friend but he'd lose the closeness they shared. Kissing him though, he can't imagine he'd ever even considered either option as reality. Chuckling he pulled back enough to bring a hand up, pressing it against Dodger's neck. His thumb brushed against his jaw. "That and...I don't really know what my plan was anymore," he admitted. He can feel that familiar anxiety, the need to go quiet, takes a breath and looks at him. "Told her there was a chance that maybe we could...maybe have this be more than just two guys who make out like teenagers?" Grunting when Dodger presses closer to him, can feel the other's breath on his face after another kiss. "We could try the dating thing? Let me tell people you're my...you're my guy?"

These gentle touches, the simple brushing of the pad of Phoenix’s thumb across Dodger’s bearded jaw, said more than any of their actual words had. The fact that Dodger hadn’t been bucked from Phoenix’s lap completely for potentially taking this moment too far said enough. The way they looked into each other's eyes as if finally seeing each other, some heavy curtain or thick fog finally lifting to reveal something hidden that had been there all along. It was…nice. More than nice. It was welcomed, and feeling Phoenix’s hands on his waist and on his neck, and the magnetic pull that their lips had developed…Dodger would be craving this every day. “I’m not Bradley…” the words came out before he’d had a chance to think them over, too serious to be a normal comment Dodger would make but only cementing how serious this was to become. “I’m not…Bradley,” his tone softened, “I’m never going to be Bradley and I’m not going to try to be Bradley.” He let his forehead fall forwards, resting gently against Phoenix’s, eyes closing as the tips of their noses brushed and the warmth of their breath merging in the space between. “I’m not here to be a replacement. I’ll be your guy. But you take me as Dodger. You take me as Aslan.”

I'm not Bradley. Phoenix blinked in surprise before his gaze softened in understanding. "No you're not," he agrees, thumb moving back and forth on his jaw. The necklace with two rings beneath his shirt feels warm, not heavy, never heavy. Bradley isn't a burden he carries, he's a reminder to always try and live freely. "The man I was with him, isn't the man I am today. You saw me at my lowest when I got back and you stayed, you stayed." There weren't enough words to describe what the last year's had been like, how much he'd needed Dodger as anchor through everything. How he loved Jay, how he'd always put in the effort for both of them. "Bradley was my first love, he has his place in me. There's a part of me that will always love him, that's moved that love to Jay," he explains. There's more he wants to say, hesitates and focuses on having Dodger's forehead against his own. The feelings he'd tried for so long to understand and come to terms with.  Taking a deep breath, he kisses him again before pulling back to look at him. "I loved Bradley, but right now. Today, I'm in love with you," takes another breath, "You're not a replacement, Aslan. You're my guy. As you, you're what I've needed to finally feel the sun again instead of this icy winter I've been stuck in."

It was unlike Dodger for his breath to catch so solidly in his throat, but the more he really listened to Phoenix's words, the more he couldn't help but hold his breath to not miss a single one. It was all true, Dodger had seen him at his lowest, and he'd done nothing more than simply be there for him. He didn't try to overly sympathize, or coddle him, or follow suit to become one of those people that were overly attentive. He'd been there when Phoenix called, for a beer or a chat or a night to just sit in silence and think. Dodger had always made that amount of effort, the same amount now, being what Phoenix needed. "Then we have an understanding," he nodded after speaking of Jay, someone he'd grown to love as a family member of his own. He didn't have any of those left here. And again Dodger fell into the kiss, this one brought forth by Phoenix, and he smiled into it, a happy smile. A content smile. "Funny you say that," he can't help but smirk, keeping his lips close and ready for the next time they lock together, "I think I'm in love with you too. So I'm your guy...and you're my guy. And we can feel the sun...together."

Phoenix feels a laugh slip out, the only way for the amount of emotion he's stuck with to come out. His heart's racing and his cheeks feel flushed, but he also feels genuinely giddy of all things. He can't think of a time he'd been this excited over something, can't think of a time where he hasn't been afraid to be open about how he's feeling. All things considered it wasn't how he was raised, let alone how he'd allowed himself to be, he wasn't the quiet Romero for nothing. Leaning forward he doesn't hesitate to try and kiss that smirk off Dodger's face when he hears him agree and call him my guy.  Bringing his hand off his neck and wrapping both arms around his waist, "I'm your guy," he says a grin on his face as he looks at him. He's going to have to explain this to his family later, Jay first for obvious reasons. "Still up for that beer? Or are you gonna take a nap on me?" he asks, leaning his forehead against his again.

For the first time Dodger turned his head away as Phoenix's face pushed itself in closer, the clear attempt to wipe the smirk from his face about to fail, just another layer that added to the playfulness they both enjoyed. The extra layer that they were a couple. As simple as that? Everyone always made it sound so complicated. "My guy. Are we going to ever get used to saying that?" He doubted it. Dodger had never been in a serious relationship; there wasn't much allure to someone that slept most hours of the day and refused to partake in a normal routine, but that was something Phoenix was used to, something that Phoenix knew going into all this. Nobody knew Dodger like Phoenix did, and outside of the Romero's, he doubted anyone knew Phoenix as well as Dodger did. "Listen, it's been an eventful ten minutes, I'm gonna need at least an hour to nap so I can recover. But of course-" he planted a quick peck on Phoenix's lips, "-you're more-" and another, "-than welcome-" an another, "-to join me."

Phoenix chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Dodger, "Maybe, if you'd rather call me something else let me know. I won't get offended over it," he said. He wasn't expecting conventional when it came to Dodger, wasn't expecting an epic  burning romance, just wanted someone he could come home to and be with. There was a calmness and stability that Dodger brought to his life that no one else really did. At his nap request he chuckled again feeling his shoulders shake, before he froze at the first peck, feeling dazed when Dodger finished. Almost hadn't caught his question before he shook out of it, "You know what, I could go for a nap," he mumbled, taking his hands off his waist so he could get up.

Dodger tapped his chin playfully, humming as if deep in thought before pressing that same finger up against Phoenix’s lips as a smile stretched across his own. “I got plenty of things I want to call you now, but to everyone else…my guy it is.” Part of Dodger was panicking, thinking that this was all happening so quickly, that he’d suddenly agreed to something without thinking it over at all, but the reality was they’d been thinking about this for years, both of them, probably. Always 100% content in each other's company, the easy conversation, the constant flirting hidden behind the banter only a best friend could get away with. There was no thinking involved because the decision had been made before today. “A nap it is then,” with the other’s hands now removed from his waist, Dodger finally slid off Phoenix’s lap but remained seated right by his side, head coming down to rest on his shoulder. “How about this: you go find Jay, tell her the good news, and I’ll meet you either at or after the contest winner announcement? And then you and I can take our first nap…together?”

My guy. God it felt good to hear that again, it wasn't the same and Phoenix hadn't wanted it to be. It was Dodger's voice that said it, meant it, and made him feel warm over it. He let out a breath when Dodger moved over, feeling his face heat up when put his head on his shoulder. Leaning over he pressed his lips to the top of his head and chuckled, "Yea I will, she's gonna be ecstatic. Might even wake you up from shrieking," he teased. Leaning his own head against Dodger' he let out a relaxed breath, closing his own eyes to just enjoy the peace he now felt. "Together," he agreed with a smile on his face.

[darlingpwease]

1) ( =･᷄□･᷅= ) what is with you saying that to what I say recently–

2) that is NOT criticism >:((( once I finish a test I have soon, I'll send it to you, so no more bashing me!! >:(((

3) Good morning, Dove <33 (or afternoon??) mwah<333

Yes!! Just thinking about him shaking, unable to stop himself from clenching his thighs around your face as he grinds down against you,,, shaky moans leaving him as he cries out how he can't cum anymore, but the way he is dripping and how he refuses to get up gives away his true thoughts <333 maybe he leans against the headboard to try to help you out, but it actually doesn't do much when you grip his waist, pulling him closer to you as you help him ascend <33 AAHH AND HOLDING HIS HAND WHILE DOING SO??? When he feels worried that he might be hurting you by pulling your hair, so you hold his hand while the other grips his thighs, keeping him in place,,,,, such an adorable darling, I wanna kiss him so bad :((

-panna cotta

1) listen, I'm fine with the fact that you like bellies, — even if I have a question, who is this 'other belly', since you clarified that you're only talking about mine, — but to love when you get bashed up??? um... ( - ~ - ) of course, we love and will accept you in any way, but that doesn't mean you have to go all out, okay :/// /t /j /nsrs

2) this is what it is; the most constructive criticism from the most objective crumb<333

3) It was evening and now it's night~ (now it's morning</3333)

a h,,,,, when your hands wrap around his thighs to make sure he won't try to pull away during over stimulation</333 his pretty thin waist, which you can easily grab while make him cry with delight, drooling, blushing so much that you could see how the tips of his ears turned red if his plush hips did not block your view when you eat him out,,, when you rub and pull, gently biting, making him shudder even more, whining with a plea to stop teasing him,, especially when you talk about how wet and dripping he is not only because of your saliva,,,,, when he chokes on how hot and heavy it is inside him, feeling like he's going crazy just from the way your tongue slides, diligently licking, forcing him to be close to orgasm again; blindly looking for some support to stop himself from completely wrapping around your face until you suffocate, surrendering to the animal urge to ride you until he no longer has the strength to even sit</3333 eat him out during your first time, holding his palms, wet and hot with excitement, while trying to maintain eye contact, seeing how his eyes are watering and his cheeks are burning, and when he looks away, embarrassed even more by what he sees in your eyes and how good it feels when you give him everything he wants</33333 when he tries to help you too, awkwardly trying to caress you, but constantly twitches and wriggles, digging his nails into your skin and then apologizing confusedly because everything inside him can't stop throbbing and heating up,,,, feeling your tongue playing with him and choking with delight when he tries to return the favor, but can't concentrate, drooling</3333333

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 5!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ao3 link

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

It had taken Steve and Robin all afternoon to find an outfit that was not only appropriate for the occasion, but that he would actually be willing to wear. Some of the pieces Robin tried to talk him into were more straps than clothing. When he’d complained, she rolled her eyes and called him a prude.

Neither of them actually knew what the proper attire for a freak party was, but they assumed it was similar to any other kink event or play party. In the end, Steve had settled on a pair of tight black leather pants that laced all the way up the sides, tying on either side of his groin. The shirt was short sleeved and made entirely of sheer black mesh. He wore thick leather cuffs on each forearm, although those had more to do with having additional weapons hidden on him, than for the aesthetic. He already owned a pair of black boots so at least he didn’t have to break in new footwear to complete the look. 

Robin followed him home, just in case he needed help getting any of the garments on, and wound up talking him into a little bit of eyeliner. When Steve finally looked in the mirror, he expected to look ridiculous. Like he was wearing some god awful Halloween costume. But he had to admit, the little bit of makeup really did make his eyes pop, and the pants made his ass look great. It was almost a shame that the only people that would be seeing him like this were those he would never in a million years consider dating. 

“So, tell me about this girl Chrissy.” Robin prodded, as she gathered her things.

“Honestly I don’t really know much about her besides what she likes to do in her free time. She’s gorgeous, hell of a dancer, and after spending a little time with her I can say she seems very sweet and kind. Kinda funny too.”

“Damn, she's probably straight though, right? Is she straight? I mean, I'm not sure about the whole vampire biting thing, but who am I to judge?”

Steve laughed, Robin was getting flustered and rambling at a vague description of Chrissy, god knows how bad it would be if she ever saw her in person. 

“I don’t know for sure but I was definitely getting at least bisexual vibes from her. Maybe once this is all over I'll see about introducing the two of you.”

Robin smiled and poked him in the chest. “I hope she knows I'm counting on her to keep you out of trouble tonight.”

“I’ll be fine Robin, we’re just…gathering intel, and if anything does go wrong at least i’ll be slightly better armed this time.”

They walked out together. Robin was heading home for the night, and Steve was due to pick up Chrissy soon.

Robin paused at the door to her car, turning towards him.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything until I knew more, but with you going to this party…I just want to make sure you watch your back. I got wind of a rumor that some of the more zealous vampire haters are trying to put together a death squad. I don’t think they’d hit an event with that many witnesses or humans, but you never know.”

He nodded. “I still doubt that human amateurs, even a group of them, could be doing this, but I'll be careful. Let me know if the rumor becomes anything more.” 

-

Steve is a bit stunned at first, when Chrissy comes out the front door of Guilty Pleasures. If this girl had been the one to walk on stage last night, he wouldn’t have second guessed her presence. She wore fishnets tucked into thigh-high boots with a 5 inch heel. Her top was essentially a bra made of the same  shiny vinyl material as her skirt. Straps criss-crossed her upper body in a way that made it look like she was tied up. She'd even done her nails. They were shiny, black, and so pointed it looked like they could break skin.

It was so different from the style he had seen her in so far. He wondered which was the real Chrissy. He figured it probably lay somewhere in between. Most people were not all one thing, it was something he needed to keep reminding himself. 

She threw open the car door, blinding smile on her face. “Steve! You did so good, you look great!”

Bondage wear or not, this girl simply radiated sunshine when she was happy.

He blushed. “Thanks. I can’t take all the credit, my friend Robin helped.” 

“I see. She talked you into the eyeliner too, I'm guessing?”

“Yea. don’t tell anyone, but I kind of like it” he said conspiratorially. 

“Your secret's safe with me”

-

It takes them about twenty minutes to get to the party, which was apparently being held in someone’s nice upper-middle-class house just outside of the city. On the way, Chrissy had explained to him their cover story. Steve was her new boyfriend. They met at the club and had been dating for a few weeks now. He became interested in the scene after seeing her act on stage, and hearing stories about the parties. That’s why they were here tonight, so he could see for himself. Everyone knew why she stopped coming, this provided a good excuse for her return. 

It was still light out when they parked and got out of the car. Steve was doing his best not to feel self conscious about his appearance, but couldn’t stop himself from looking up and down the quiet street. He saw more than one set of curtains twitch and groaned internally.  

Chrissy took his arm, patting him lightly on the bicep and steered him towards the front door. A woman opened it as they approached, her outfit a mirror of Chrissy’s, except all in red. The woman smiled lecherously at his date for a moment, expression turning to disgust when her eyes flicked over to Steve. 

“Gwen.” Chrissy said, in place of a greeting. Her voice was colder than Steve had ever heard it.

“Good to see you, Chris. This the guy?” Gwen asked, hooking a thumb in his direction. 

“Yes, this is Steve.” Chrissy replied, tightening her hold on him. He took the hint and leaned in, 

dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

Gwen glared at them before turning on her heel and stalking off further into the house.

“Friend of yours?” He asked, smirking.

“Ex-girlfriend, actually.”

Well, that answered that question. 

“You have excellent taste.” He teased, sarcastically.

She threw her head back and laughed as she elbowed him hard in the ribs.

They mingled in the main room with everyone else who had arrived early. The vampires, of course, wouldn’t show until full dark, but more human partygoers were expected too. Steve wasn’t sure what he would do once the party really got underway, he was sorta winging it tonight. He had told Chrissy he was trying to be more open minded, and he was, but that didn’t mean he would allow himself to be bitten. Not even for a cover story. That was a problem for later. For now, he would smile, be charming, and hope a clue fell in his lap. 

Apart from Gwen, everyone he met was warm and welcoming. He was assured over and over again that there was no pressure to participate if he was nervous, most people were the first time. Several of his new acquaintances told him stories about their first parties and gradually Steve started to relax. He hadn’t expected these people to be so friendly. It was a nice surprise, and went a long way to prove that he was wrong for judging before. 

He learned that it wasn’t all about the vampires either. Yes, most of the people there wanted to be fed-on tonight, but many would then pair off with their own dates or friends to enjoy some private play time in the other rooms. Some slept with their vampire partners, but just as many didn’t. No one pretended like the vampires weren’t dangerous, in fact that seemed to be part of the appeal. The event organizers did apparently try their best to only invite vamps with good reputations, and so far there had only been a handful of incidents like Chrissy’s.

New guests trickled in regularly over the course of the first hour, and at some point Steve had stopped looking at the door every time it opened. He was sitting on a couch with Chrissy in his lap, deep in conversation about baking, of all things, with a very good-looking guy who was there on his own. They were interrupted by a loud throat clearing. 

Thank god he was already sitting because he might have fallen over in surprise when he saw who was now standing in front of him, clad in nothing but a hot pink bra and panty set, with shoes to match.

“Nancy?”

And really, he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“Fancy meeting you here! Who’s your friend?” She asked, giving the girl in his lap a curious once-over.

“This is Chrissy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Nancy said, and it almost sounded genuine. She was definitely the better actor of the two of them.

He scanned the immediate area for Nancy’s companion, but she didn’t appear to be with anyone.

“No date?” He finally asked.

“Not tonight.”

It was curious. He recalled Chrissy’s insistence that he would need an escort, since this was his first time. If Nancy was here without a date, did that mean she was in the community? It had to be an act, there was no way the Nancy he knew was an actual freak, no offense to his date.

Some things were starting to come together for Steve. Is this how Nancy got her inside information? Talk about the proverbial fox in the henhouse. He wondered what these people would think if they knew they were helping her hunt vampires. 

He had so many questions, but he knew better than to ask them in front of present company. Actually, he knew better than to ask at all. Nancy would tell him what she was up to, if, and only if, she wanted him to know. 

He looked up at Chrissy, intending to ask her if she wanted to get a drink, as a valid excuse for walking away, but he stopped when he realized she had gone extra pale and stiff. She stared out the window, where the night had finally grown dark. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. 

“Are you okay?”

She leaned into him, whispering back. “It’s dark. They’ll be here soon.” Poor girl was shaking like a leaf.

“Do you need to go? It’s okay if you do.” Steve said.

This is exactly what he had been worried about. Nothing they could learn tonight was worth re-traumatizing her. He’d figure this out one way or another, but not at her expense. 

She looked at him with wide wet eyes. ”But, we didn’t learn anything yet.”

Privately, Steve begged to differ. He had learned quite a bit this evening, though nothing that would be helpful to the case.

“It’s okay,” He assured her, trying to put every ounce of sincerity he could into his face and voice. 

She looked into his eyes for a long time, weighing his words, probably trying to determine if he was telling the truth.

“Can we step out back for some air and I'll see how I feel?”

They excused themselves and Steve was relieved when Nancy let them go with only a nod and a wave. He was sure he’d be hearing from her later. 

Outside, Chrissy pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her small purse and quickly lit up. Steve was surprised she smoked, was surprised that anyone did these days really, but he didn’t comment on it. She was a grown woman and could do what she liked.

They stood in comfortable silence in the dimly lit backyard. Steve was lost in his own thoughts when a chill slowly snaked its way up his spine, the skin on his arms breaking out in goosebumps. Power emanated from somewhere out in the dark. It was a familiar energy and he felt compelled to follow it. 

He turned to Chrissy, ready to ask her to wait here while he checked it out. One look at her closed-off expression reminded him of why they were outside in the first place, and he knew he couldn’t leave her here alone. 

She spotted him looking at her and quirked a brow in question. 

He kept his voice low. “I feel power. Someone nearby is performing some kind of magic or ritual. I think we should check it out.”

“We?”

“Of course, you're my partner tonight.” He smiled, letting their shoulders bump briefly. ”Let’s go investigate.”

She smiled back, and though he didn’t like putting her in harm's way, it might just be worth it to see her become more herself again. There was no guarantee she’d be safe if she stayed behind anyway. 

The backyard of the house was surrounded by a tall privacy fence, but there was a gate in the back corner that led to the property abutting this one. Chrissy kept an arm on Steve's shoulder for stability as they crossed the short yard, walking through the gate and into the thin band of trees beyond. He had no doubt she was suddenly regretting her choice of footwear for the evening, but it’s not as if either of them knew they’d be stalking through the woods that night.

Past the trees was the back end of an old farm. The farmhouse itself was way out in the distance, but about 30 yards to the right of where he and Chrissy stood, were the remains of an old private cemetery. The night was dark, almost pitch black when the moon ducked behind the clouds, but thanks to the boost in powers granted to him by whatever the fuck Eddie had done, Steve could see the small group gathered within it perfectly.

The vampire, Tommy, was there, along with a handful of others that Steve didn’t recognize. In the center of it all was Martin. A goat lay off to the side, dead. It looked like the man was trying, and apparently failing, to raise a zombie.

They should probably have turned around right then and gone back to the house. Nothing good could come from interrupting, but Steve needed to find out what was going on here. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they were here, could it?

Steve kept Chrissy behind him as they approached. He knew, in all likelihood, that the vampires had already sensed their presence. Sure enough, several sets of eyes turned to them when they reached the boundary of the small cemetery. 

“You heard the boss. If you don’t raise this zombie, you’re done, dead, and I get to do whatever I want with you.” Tommy hissed at Martin. He seemed to enjoy the way the man cowered back from him in fear. 

Steve didn’t like the guy, hadn’t liked him from the beginning, but he couldn't stand by and watch Tommy torture and kill another human being. He just couldn’t. 

He walked up to Martin, ignoring the sounds of protest from the surrounding vampires. The other man watched him with suspicious eyes. Steve quickly assessed the situation. It looked to him as if the other animator had done everything right, and he had certainly felt powerful enough.  

The ritual to raise the dead was a fairly simple one. You needed a sacrifice, usually a chicken but occasionally something bigger, and to draw enough blood to create a circle around the intended grave. The rest of it came down mostly to an individual’s power. Steve didn’t bother with a lot of theatrics, he didn’t need them. For him, raising zombies came easy, second nature. Most of the other animators he’d met, however, needed words and special tools to guide their practice. 

“What seems to be the problem?” Steve finally asked.

“She’s too old. The woman Billy asked me to raise. I tried, but..”

They both kept their voices low, though the effort was futile with the vamps superior hearing. 

“What does he want with her?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I think it’s just an excuse to kill me. He knew I couldn’t do it” He sounded resigned.

“We’ll see about that.” Steve declared.

“You raise a lot of 100 year old zombies, Harrington?”

“No. But, we could do it together.”

“Why?”

“I can’t stand by and watch them kill you knowing I could have stopped it.”

Martin only paused for a moment before nodding. He knew he was in no position to refuse. 

“How do you want to do this?” He asked.

“Follow my lead.” Steve wasn’t sure how to explain what they had to do. He didn’t truly know himself, only had a feeling about what was needed. He would follow his instincts like Wayne had taught him. They rarely steered him wrong.

A knife lay on the ground by his feet, It was obvious that this was the tool used in the sacrifice. Steve snatched it from the ground, grimacing at the blood coating its blade. He went to wipe it off on his own shirt before realizing the sheer cloth would do little to clean it. He reached over to grip the front of Martin’s button down shirt and pulled. Buttons flew as it popped open. The other man sucked in a harsh breath, but said nothing as Steve used the cloth to wipe off the knife. 

Steve's eyes flicked down, noticing the necklace Martin wore for the first time. It must have been hidden under the shirt. It was an unusual piece of jewelry, a chunky pendant made from several different stones that hung from a thick cord. It also pulsed with its own aura of power. He wondered what it was for. There wasn't time to dwell on it now, but Steve added it to the list of things he needed to figure out. 

He took the now clean-ish blade and ran it across his palm. The power in the circle thrummed weakly as his blood welled up along the cut. Steve handed the blade to the other man, hilt first. He took it, wincing as he cut himself in the same fashion.

“Now, drop the blade and face me.” Steve instructed.

He reached his bleeding hand out, using it to hold the other man’s upper arm. Martin caught on, quickly mirroring the position. 

When his hand made contact with Steve, it completed a circuit between them.  The blood circle flared to life, power flowed thick, filling the space around them. 

Steve closed his eyes, using his other sense to seek out the intended target. When he found her, he could almost see it in his mind. There was no body, per se, in the old wooden box, not this many years later. All that was left now was a collection of bones and bits of cloth. Steve gathered all that power and pushed it into them, willing the body to reform and crawl its way to the surface. 

The ground beneath his feet rippled and Steve kept his eyes shut. He always hated this part. 

He’d watched in the beginning, of course, when he was learning how to harness his powers. It was important to understand the full process, or so Wayne had told him. Where others seemed to watch on in fascination, Steve felt nothing but horror when he watched the earth turn over, spewing out the undead like a bizarre mockery of birth. 

Realizing how much it bothered Steve, it was Wayne who had suggested he keep his eyes closed until the magic was through with its work. He thought it would make him appear unprofessional and worried that his father would think he was weak. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what your father thinks, son. Man’s a jackass” Wayne had said. “And most folks don’t pay enough attention to notice. Those that do, will just assume you're concentrating extra hard. This is your craft, you do it the way that makes you feel best.”

Chrissy gasped somewhere off to his left. He’d almost forgotten she was there. The ground stilled as he opened his eyes, snapping his head in her direction. She stared at him, expression unreadable, but she was fine. Thank god. 

Billy chose that moment to step out from behind a nearby tree, Dustin following close behind. He clapped slowly as he approached. They must have been watching the show. 

“That was quite a thing to see, wasn’t it folks?” Billy said, with his arms thrown wide, voice filling the night air. He wore a wide smile that looked anything but happy. 

“Well, Brenner, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to thank Stevie-boy here for temporarily saving your ass?”

Steve froze. Brenner? 

He had thought the man looked familiar before, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on why at the time. Now, Steve had the sinking feeling that he knew exactly where he’d seen this guy before.

Raising the dead was not a common ability, and there were precious few animators in the United States.  In a group that exclusive, it was big news when one of them died. It was considered polite to attend the funeral, even if you didn’t know the other animator personally. 

Hearing that name again, Brenner, Steve knew in his bones that he had attended this man’s funeral not one year ago. How was it possible? The necklace? He knew that type of magic existed, but it was rare. Too hard to find practitioners willing to do it, and the spell always came at a very steep cost. It begged the question, what was Martin Brenner doing to keep himself alive?

The other animator turned to look at him, a quiet ‘thank you’ falling from his lips easily. Brenner looked into his eyes and Steve knew he couldn’t hide it. It would show all over his face that he had finally recognized the man.

Brenner paled. His hand thoughtlessly reached towards the thing at his neck before he realized and stopped the motion. 

“Are you going to tell them?” He mouthed the question at Steve, not even daring to whisper.  

“I haven't decided yet” Steve replied, tight lipped. He was furious, no longer sure he had done the right thing in helping this man. He had to walk away, he needed a minute to think. 

He strode away, vaulting the low wall that bordered the cemetery, and heading towards the tree line. 

Billy was at his side in an instant. Steve hadn’t heard him move. The vampire licked his lips as he circled Steve like a shark.

“Damn Harrington, you dirty up real good don’t you? Picture perfect in all that black and covered in blood. Like a gift wrapped up in a big red bow. Eddie’s going to kick himself for missing this.”

Steve was fuming. He knew there was no answer that would satisfy him but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“What was the point of all this, Billy? If you want to kill the guy why not just do it, why make it some sort of sick game?”

“Because games are fun Steve-o. I think we all need a little more fun in our lives, don't you? What do you care anyway? It seems to me that you don’t even like the guy.”

“It doesn’t matter if I like him, and what about the zombie, huh? That poor woman you asked him to raise for no good reason?”

“What about her?”

Steve would never get Billy to understand why it bothered him. The fact that this zombie used to be a human being, and she didn’t deserve to have her memory disrespected this way. He’d try another tactic. 

“What will it take for you to let me put her back, right now, unharmed?”

He looked Steve up and down, lingering on his left hand. The one he’d sliced open.

“Let me have a taste.”

Steve didn’t know what his face was doing, but his disgust at the request must have shown loud and clear. 

“Oh don’t give me that look. I won’t bite, just let me lick the blood from your palm and she’s all yours.”

Who would lay the zombie to rest if he didn’t? What would they do to her remains if he refused? Oh god. He was actually going to do this.

“Fine.”

Billy grinned, pleased. He considered Steve carefully for a moment, seeming to think about how he wanted to do this. He finally made a decision and knelt down in front of him. Steve held his palm out to the vampire, who grabbed it tightly with both hands. One wrapped around Steve's wrist, the other cupping the backs of his fingers.  The position takes him back to the dream with Eddie and it’s all he can do to swallow back the whine building in the back of his throat.

Billy flattened his tongue, licking wide strokes across Steve's palm. It took only a few passes before his hand was clean. Steve tried to pull away, wrongly assuming the task was now done. Billy tightened his grip, probing at the cut with the tip of his tongue until blood started flowing freely again. Steve cried out, it stung like a bitch.

He could hear someone running up to them, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away from Billy. He wasn’t completely under his power. The pull wasn’t as strong as last time, but Steve could still feel the vampire’s will pressing against his own. Knocking on his mental walls and trying to gain entrance. 

“Stop it Billy!” Chrissy yelled. Now standing only a few feet away from them. “You promised he wouldn’t be hurt! Let him go!”

Steve’s heart sank. Was she working for him? Had he been wrong to trust her?

She looked anxiously between the two of them. Tears streamed down her face.

Billy raised his mouth from Steve’s skin, blood staining his lips. “I’m not harming him, sweet thing.”

She stepped closer, as if getting ready to physically separate them. Steve didn’t know if she was truly on his side or not, but, damnit, he didn’t want to see her get hurt.

“Stay back, Chrissy, I made a deal. It’s okay.”

Someone pulled her back, and Steve was grateful. He’s pretty sure it was Dustin, unless one of the other vamps was also short with a mop of unruly curls. 

The assault on his mind was getting harder and harder to ignore. His newfound powers clearly had limits, and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t get away from Billy soon. 

“How are you resisting me so well, Harrington? You were all but putty in my hands last time.”

Steve didn’t know how to respond. He knew it was because of Eddie, that he had made him a human servant, or whatever, but he didn’t really know what that meant. Somehow, he knew it would be a bad idea to let Billy find out about it. 

A gunshot rang out in the distance, sounding like it came from the direction of the party. It was Steve’s saving grace, as the group of vampires scattered and only Billy and Dustin remained. Brenner took advantage of the distraction, taking off at a sprint towards the farmhouse. 

Shouts and the sound of fighting were carried to them on the wind. Billy looked torn. Finally, he dropped Steve’s hand.

“I will find out how you are resisting me, human. You can count on that.”

Then he was gone. So fast Steve didn’t even know what direction he went. Dustin and Chrissy both rushed over to him. She started babbling apologies so quickly it made his head spin. 

“I”m sorry Steve, i’m so sorry. Billy made me promise to tell him anything you found out about the murders. I haven't even told him anything yet, I swear. I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice. Please forgive me. I was so scared, and with Eddie gone…”

He couldn’t be mad at her. This wasn’t her fault. She was as much a victim here as anyone else. He had to shout her name a few times to get her attention, but eventually she stopped her ramble long enough to hear him.

 “It’s okay, Chrissy. I understand. I’m not mad, alright?”

He wrapped himself around her in a one-armed hug and she melted into him, quietly sobbing.

Dustin watched the two of them curiously, small smile playing on his lips. Steve knew what the kid must be thinking, and he should probably have corrected him, said that it wasn’t like that with her, but it wasn’t exactly his top concern at the moment.

“Thanks for holding her back, buddy. Don’t take this the wrong way, but, what are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you two were okay.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. With all of the vampires now gone, he was obviously okay. So…

“Okay, okay, fine. I did want to make sure you were fine, but I also don’t know how to do that nifty quick disappearing trick yet.”

Steve laughed. God, he was still so…Dustin.

“I don’t think there's a trick to it, kid. I think vamps can just run really really fast.”

“Huh.” Dustin hummed, as if he hadn’t thought of that.

“How about I give you a ride, for old times sake?” Steve asked.

“Good Idea. You might need the extra set of hands to get to your car anyway. I don’t like the sound of whatever's happening at that party.”

Chapter 6

[writtengalaxies]

Avoidance

Radio Broadcast to Nowhere :: Part 2

Characters: The Host, GN!Reader

Word Count: 615

Spicy Rating: Just some passing mentions of blood, because...I mean. Host got some blood.

You've been feeling low all day. You didn't really know why, or what could have caused it. Maybe it was the gloomy weather, though you thought of it as "good writing weather", with the cool temperatures and low lying fog that burned out by mid-afternoon. Maybe it was the change in seasons, the way that mornings always crept in a bit of chill despite any way you tried to stay warm. Maybe it was just feeling slightly lonely, only really having the Host with you for company.

You thought about the only other person that lived here, the person who narrated your way into finding him. You were grateful for that, and he was good company! He was soft spoken and kind in his own ways, but he had pulled back lately, citing something unpleasant he didn't want you to see. You wondered if it was the need to change the blood-soaked bandages around his eyes. When you had last spoken to him, he kept turning away, trying to keep you from seeing how fresh blood slipped down his cheeks. 

That was days ago. You knew he was eating, at least, stepping out of his study some time late at night, handling the dishes and feeding himself.  But he was waiting until you fell asleep. And, really, the loneliness was bothering the hell out of you. So you marched your way (shuffled, really. Marching too much energy) to his study, not bothering to knock. You weren't surprised to see him looking at the door, but you were surprised to see him surprised.

"You've been avoiding me." As soon as you spoke the words, his shoulders hunched, turning his head away from you. "Why?"

"The Host explained, he had something he didn't wish for you to see--"

"That doesn't explain why you haven't come to talk to me after that." He bit his lip, letting you get the words out rather than narrating the room as you strode to his desk, planting both your hands on it. "I was curious enough to come here, happy enough to stay here. I didn't leave. I could have! There's nothing that you can do that will really drive me away, Host. I know the rumors, I know that the shed out back has bloodstains. You've never shown me any reason to fear you. You know how I feel."

"...The Host doesn't."

"What?" That took you aback, staring at him. "I thought you would have...I dunno, just...narrated it. To figure it out." 

"Before you had arrived, the narrative did tell The Host how you...could feel, one day. He is...embarrassed to admit out loud to you that he lingered in those thoughts. Delighted in them. But since your arrival...The Host...feels uncomfortable invading your privacy. He doesn't wish to disrespect you, and knows that it would damage your trust if he were ever to...do that. So he has not, and will not, narrate you and your actions, despite the narrative's greater attempts to get him to do so. He doesn't want you to feel as though you have no control over...over anything that may occur, and there is always a chance that the narrative has changed since--"

You reached out, grabbing the front of his shirt, using it to pull yourself forward to kiss him. It's not passionate, it's not lingering. It's hard to do that over a desk, after all. But the soft brush of your lips over his is enough for him to startle, to take in a breath, letting it out shaky and slow.

"The...The Host supposes your feelings are..."

"Stop avoiding me, and I'll tell you properly."

It's worth it for the soft, bright smile he gives you.

[paleparearchive]

A Light in the Dark

Courbet's initial 4* 1/3 ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

Location: kitchen (morning) | Characters: Courbet, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, Watteau, Aoi/MC

Watteau: Pheew, I'm full, I'm full!

Da Vinci: It is not polite to say "I am full".

Aoi: Fufu… Well then everyone, good luck with your afternoon production.

Van Gogh: Yeah! Thanks to you, I'm going to get a good painting!

Courbet: …

Aoi: (... Huh?)

Courbet-kun, what's wrong? Your expression is kind of gloomy…

Van Gogh: You're right. Maybe you ate too much and now you have a stomachache?

Courbet: Wrong. Whatever, I'm the same as usual.

Watteau: Eeh, that's definitely not true. Courbet, that's a super low tension!

Aoi: If you're having trouble, I'd like you to let me know. I might be able to help…

Courbet: …

Actually, I've been wondering about the next production.

Watteau: Ooh, ya said it in a surprisingly honest way.

Aoi: (It's rare for Courbet-kun to talk to everyone about his problems…)

Watteau: Why don't ya just have fun and change your mind? Then you'll be able to handle it.

Da Vinci: Courbet-san is not the same type as you, Watteau-san, so I do not think that would solve the problem…

Aoi: So, what's the matter?

Courbet: … I can't quite grasp the image I need for my next commission. The theme is "darkness"...

Da Vinci: If so, how about you go out at night? You might get some hints.

Courbet: … No. Walking out at night isn't something I feel comfortable doing.

Aoi: Really? I thought it was a good idea too…

Courbet: Yeah. However…

Aoi: …?

Watteau: … Aah. I got it. Courbet's afraid of the dark!

Van Gogh: Eeeh! Is that so, Courbet!?

Courbet: O… Of course it's not! I just…!

Watteau: Don't be so stubborn. It's alright, that kind of gap's popular with girls, y'know?

Courbet: I told you I'm not! I'm just…!

R-Right. It's daytime now, isn't it? It would be inefficient to wait until night. That's why I'm worried. Nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand?

Van Gogh: ??? Oh yeah! I don't get it, but I understand it!

Watteau: No I don't! Ya said ya were strugglin' with how to capture the image!

Aoi: Hmm… Don't wait until night to feel the darkness, you say…

Da Vinci: If so, why do you not simply darken the room?

Watteau: Ah, that's it! And ya might want a room as quiet and spacious as possible!

Da Vinci: Yes. This way, you will be able to feel the silence– and the eeriness of the night.

Courbet: !!

Van Gogh: Waah! That's great! Then you can do it right now!

Courbet: H-Hey, wait a–

Da Vinci: How about an exhibition room with few artworks? Not many people would come there.

Watteau: I like it, that'd be sooo creepy! That's Da Vinci for ya!

Da Vinci: Director-san, may we use the exhibit room for a moment?

Aoi: Y-Yes. It's a closed day, which is fine with me, but…

Watteau: Then it's a deal! This is gonna be fun, let's get goin'!

Da Vinci: I will also help you. It is for Courbet-san's sake, too.

Van Gogh: Right! Courbet's problems are our problems and we must solve them!

Watteau: As a thank you, let's go out to pick up girls next time, Courbet!

Courbet: I refuse. Impure sexual intercourse isn't a hobby of mine.

Da Vinci: Aah… Come to think of it, Courbet-san gets flustered when he gets close to women.

Courbet: Wha…!

Watteau: Haha, for real? But it's super fun! I'll definitely bring ya with me to pick-up one of these days!

Aoi: (They're gone…)

Courbet: …

Aoi: … Courbet-kun?

Courbet: Ah… No, don't mind me. When did this all come together…

Aoi: (Huh? He looks even gloomier than before. Could it be that Watteau-kun was right about him not liking the dark…)

Are you okay? You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I'll go tell those three.

Courbet: I'll be fine.

Aoi: But…

Courbet: You're persistent. I have some preparations to do, you go ahead.

Aoi: O-Okay…

[scarletshnoz]

Sally XL (2/5)

Sally posed around in the mirror, frowning and cringing all the while.

'I look like I've put on ten pounds! I've never had bloating this bad… Though I guess I've never really gotten it from eating… Sonic was right though, that salad wasn't even that big…

She scratched her head through her amber locks.

...maybe I'm allergic to something they put in it?'

The princess wandered back onto her couch, noting the alien feeling of the softness covering her butt squashing up against the cushion and flattening. She debated going to see Dr. Quack for some allergy tests as she'd realized she'd actually never had that done before. In her teenage years she'd obviously had neither the time nor resources when fighting to save Mobius from the original Ivo and when having limited rations to survive on allergens weren’t really something that crossed her mind… not that the veggies they had to farm would have been anyway. Though, she didn't feel anything other than puffy. No sore throat, eyes, migraine, lightheadedness … still though, if there was some oil or sauce or pesticide out there that would make her inflate this much whenever she accidentally ate it then maybe she'd best know to avoid it. She would swing by the Tommy Turtle memorial hospital, but… not until tomorrow. She'd rather not leave the castle or even her room until this went back down. The only times Sally ever covered up were when a mission meant she’d need protection from the elements or for special occasions where a dress was expected, she knew she didn’t have any casual baggy clothing that could conceal this.

She stayed seated on her sofa, unsure of what to do with the rest of her evening. She did notice she was hungry, which made sense she supposed… it may have been due to a sudden drop in her blood sugar but it was most likely that it was just because Sally usually ate dinner around this time. She realized deep down that she was overreacting but she didn't want anyone to see her like this. While she knew dinners with the rest of her family were soon going to become a special event again as she had returned to active duty she didn't want to take the chance of any of them noticing and commenting. She decided she would order delivery from somewhere, though most places that did delivery didn't have the healthiest selections and apparently even the healthiest now risked upsetting her stomach to the point where the bloating looked like she had doubled her body fat percentage.

'I'm pretty sure it's an allergy thing, but if not I'm going to have to start asking Sonic if I can pick the restaurants more often.’

If not for some sort of food intolerance this bloating must somehow be the lone work of the overabundance of balsamic in her meal this afternoon, she had already noted that the lack of restraint with portions spread even into the salad.

‘After his guilt tripping today I’m sure that’ll be a fun conversation…’

Sally rolled her eyes as she thought.

It seems even the healthiest options in New Mobotropolis’s back water establishments were still somewhat rigged. Speaking of… she felt quite greasy, uncomfortably so.

'I'll take a quick bath before the food gets here.'

She planned, she would just be ordering another salad and she had grown very familiar and attached to the options at Uncle Chuck's at this point.

She called in.

"Uncle Chuck's, what can we get you?"

The robotic voice of Sonic's father Jules rang through Sally's pointed ear.

"Hey Jules! Just a large caesar salad please, to the castle obviously. "

"Sally? It's delivery? You know you can always stop by."

The robian offered warmly.

"Oh, um sorry. Think I'm spending the night in..."

She answered awkwardly, realizing she probably should have come up with an actual excuse to avoid looking rude to her boyfriend's father and family friend.

"Alright hon, well we won't have any trouble finding the address."

"Well I should hope not."

The chipmunk bantered back.

Sally took a quick glance down at herself, fixating on how her boobs were now peeking out farther than the distance where her chin was resting as her neck bent downward. Her breasts ends were nearly where her nose was now on the x axis.

‘Maybe I’m actually eating too many greens…’

She begrudgingly pondered to herself before realizing Mr.Hedgehog would be hanging up now and quickly blurting out-

“Sorry, actually could I get a tuna salad instead?”

She said far more awkwardly than she intended.

“Oh, sure hon. Expect it in fifteen, take care dear."”

Jules said, knowing her well enough to know the crack in her voice was a little unusual but thought nothing of it. He hung up.

About ten minutes later Jules approached the table seating his wife and son. After the near apocalypse of the metal virus and with another commercial-like few months without a looming threat his father had noticed Sonic spending a lot more time with the family. He would savour it, knowing said months were probably nearing their end.

"A large tuna salad for a…

He jokingly pretended to squint his artificial eyes at the order.

...Sally Acorn, figured you'd want to be a delivery boy again for this one."

Sonic smiled.

"Meh, I guess I could for old times sake. I'm surprised she didn't do take-out though."

"I told her we'd be happy to see her."

Jules cleared himself.

"She must be busy with royal affairs, so I should be back pretty quick."

He looked to his mother, whom he had just been in the middle of a conversation with. Before grabbing the paper bag containing the salad and speeding off out the door.

With his super speed Sonic ran straight up the castle walls and vaulted over the rail of the princess’s balcony.

He knocked on the glass doors with a smile.

Sally stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around her brick red hair. Her eyes widened at the sight of Sonic eagerly waiting for her to open the door as he often did.

‘Of course.’

She moaned

‘Why did I have to order from chucks?’

The princess mentally smacked herself.

“Long time no see princess”

The blue one greeted as she opened the door.

“Since when are you doing deliveries again?”

She asked, frowning.

“I’m not, just happened to be at unc’s when you ordered. Why, not happy to see me?”

He joked.

Sally struggled to find an excuse that Sonic wouldn’t immediately realize was a lie. The fact that she had just clearly gotten out of the bath meant she couldn’t pretend she was up to something urgent.

"I'm uh… actually not feeling well now."

She answered, figuring the classic would serve her best. She tried to rush him back out onto the balcony before they broke eye contact. Obviously out of everyone Sonic would be the first to notice any changes in her body, she needed him out asap.

"And I didn't want to get anybody sick, including you… so 'git!"

She took the bag and began pushing Sonic back out onto the balcony. Only for her to almost fall forward as he whipped around behind her in the blink of an eye.

"Aw don't sweat it Sal, it's kinda my job to be here for you."

He waved, guiding her by her shoulders back onto her sofa.

She groaned, there was nothing she could do now. Sonic was as stubborn as she was and the more she insisted he leave the more suspicious she'd look.

She sat her large salad bowl on her lap, hoping that would be enough cover her puffiness. Apparently the warm water had done nothing to soothe the bloating, she still felt her thin new airbags need to deflate on impact of the cushion.

Sonic took her feet in his hands, rubbing them thoroughly. Sally cringed as he advanced to her calves, worried he'd notice the extra softness.

"Anything else I can get you Sal? Ginger soda or something'?"

"Just some warm water."

She answered with a faint smile. Despite their bickering he was a great boyfriend when he wasn’t actively trying to annoy her, which made her feel guilty to lie to him… even over something so trivial.

Within a millisecond he was back with the mug and a tv tray.

"Do the folks know you're sick?"

He asked before rubbing her shoulders.

"No, whenever I'm sick daddy acts like I have something terminal. I don't need to waste Dr.Quacks time when I know it's just a cold or a flu."

She explained, pulling from truth to aid her lie. Sally's face then contorted into a crooked smile as she let out a satisfied sigh, Sonic’s massage had reached her scalp and temples while she enjoyed her salad. She was royalty, she could have people pamper her like this any time but she would feel bad abusing her status like that. If it was just Sonic however she didn't feel so bad…

'I should pretend to be sick more often.'

She thought to herself, the temporary guilt of her lie had faded when Sonic got a knot out of her back.

Sonic had brought a puke bucket and some acetaminophen over to Sally (although she said she had already taken some), before seating himself next to her as they briefly watched some cheesy romcom.

Sally had finished her dinner and he'd soon be offering to throw the garbage out for her, she devised a way to get Sonic to leave without having to remove the large paper bowl from her lap. She immediately pretended to doze off like she'd had hours ago, letting her head slump to her shoulder.

Sonic looked at the 'slumbering' princess. Something hadn't seemed right since he'd arrived, Sally was acting funny.

Regardless he still had an obligation to be a good partner. He took the garbage from out of her lap, to which Sally cursed under her breath. He went to pick her up but paused for a moment, something seemed a little different about Sally… her body? Yeah, her body seemed different somehow. Sonic’s brain was already running through the possibilities to explain the weird differences in Sally’s behaviour, if this was an imposter then that would explain the indiscernible difference in her body type. Sonic squinted to Sally’s discomfort, then he realized. The princess’ near anorexic build had filed out a little bit, less boney and softer around the edges.

‘Bloating maybe? Nah, it’s not the end of the month yet...’

Sonic found it hard to believe that Sally of all people could’ve put on a few.

But as he reached for her he confirmed that she was softer to the touch. He lifted her into his arms and noted she was the littlest bit heavier.

'Must've been why she didn't want me seeing her.'

He rolled his eyes, having thought something was actually wrong. Her putting on a few was karmic as far as he was concerned. Apparently she had struggled to notice it as well, otherwise their lunch date would have been in jeopardy earlier today.

Sonic chuckled, maybe she did already know then…

‘Maybe she was projecting.”

The hedgehog sniggered.

It would make sense given she had spent the past few months with little exercise in recovery.

Sally continued cursing internally as Sonic brought her to her bed, laying her down and planting a kiss on her cheek. He paused for a moment, Sally didn’t quite have her usual flowery scent. Definitely still smelled nice though… kind of like… chili???

‘No way.’

He thought to himself. An intense hunger pain interrupted his confusion. His stomach had not calmed down over the evening, despite the fact that he ran back to his family's restaurant to pick himself up some chilidogs and let his mother know that he would be taking care of Sally the rest of the evening. It still felt as though he’d eaten next to nothing today. Sonic did notice the taste of tuna was stronger in his mouth than it ought to have been from just the single bite his girlfriend let him have. He looked to the ring, still planted on Sally’s petite (by mobian standards) finger. He then looked to his own. He developed a theory, it was kind of ridiculous but Sonic had encountered stranger things of a similar nature. He took off back to his house. Currently unoccupied, he could pull a bunch of the Hedgehog’s snack foods from their cupboard without further questions from his parents. He rushed back up through the balcony doors, with almost more junk food than he could carry. Sonic knew the proposition would sound ridiculous and he would likely end up hurting Sally’s feelings by pointing out her slight gain if he were wrong (which would not quite be funny enough to die over). Though, on second thought… No, he would still have to test this without her permission.

Luckily for him whilst pretending to sleep Sally had actually slipped off for real in her continued lethargy.

Sonic took out a package of chocolate chip cookies and scarfed the thirty-plus sugary treats down, he noted that the emptiness of his stomach still felt not even the slightest bit better. There seemed to be no effect on the princess so he continued his little experiment. Sonic opened a container of leftover pizza he'd had in the fridge and plowed through the five slices. Sonic continued through more of the foods he had happened to have quick access to. After gobbling down a couple hot pockets and a few slices of cheesecake Sally’s middle seemed to be jutting out more than it had when he'd first laid her down. He pressed his hand against his resting girlfriend's tummy. His hand sunk only the slighted bit before pressing against a buoyant, stuffed stomach. Sonic's eyes were now glued to the princess's middle. Further inspecting he quickly wolfed down more of his pile, with each pretzel, sponge cake and chip bag he watched in amazement as her stomach would suddenly press outward more and more. It continued reaching out farther and farther from her pelvis. Sonic stopped, satisfied and astonished. He had definitely packed her more than he needed to but he had to make sure he wasn't just imagining things. Sally's tummy looked like someone had inflated it with a pump. Sonic took his own ring off and looked at what remained of his mountains of snacks. He quickly shovelled them down his throat and by the time he was through it all it had felt like he'd actually eaten something.

"Oooho, finallyyyy."

He moaned in relief. It hadn't been his usual portion size but it felt good to have something in his stomach, that plus the tuna salad Sally had apparently eaten for him was at least enough to quell the aching.

"So the rings swap our stomachs."

Sonic pondered in a whisper.

'And apparently our metabolisms too. If Sally could take in all the food I ate today and still be hungry enough for dinner she must've digested it as fast as I would’ve, which explains where the extra padding came from.'

The hedgehog deduced.

'I could probably burn all that off for her and I wouldn't have to feel bad about feeding her junk food, a straight twenty minutes of just running past the sound barrier would be more than overkill.-

-but…”

He grinned mischievously.

“If it can be fixed so easily, might as well have some fun with it first.'

He loomed over the slumbering chipmunk in the moonlight, placing his hand on her belly. It felt like an overinflated basketball.

“Let's see how quick she is to laugh when it's her with the 'potbelly'.”

He snickered, putting his ring back on so Sally's body would take the calories more efficiently. He noticed her brows were cringed as she slept, she was likely uncomfortable with her stomach so tight. He grazed his hand smoothly across her underbelly, caressing it to relieve some of the pressure. He had to rub gently so as to not wake her, but after a solid minute he noticed she was sleeping more peacefully.

Adorable little hiccups began escaping her, Sonic smiled warmly down at her before closing the balcony doors behind him. He would be making sure to have a late night snack tonight.

___

Sunlight peeked through the princess' thin blinds and rested on her beautiful face. She slowly came to, tossing her forearm over her face to give her eyes some shade. When she became conscious enough she flopped her arm back onto the mattress, revealing her annoyed expression. She couldn't believe she had accidentally fallen asleep twice, she had practically lost half her day yesterday. The only solace was that hopefully her bloating had gone down. She sat herself up but was immediately stopped by a strange discomfort in her middle.

Her heart sank and her eyes widened as she looked down, her stomach was scrunching. One hand slapped over her mouth as she gasped, the other poking her new slight underbelly, it bulged out with fat compressed from the folding of her abdomen. With the way it curved back down into her abdominal wall just above her crotch it wouldn't be unfair to say it looked like the beginnings of a roll. She began tracing fingers through this surreal new shallow fold… it looked like a crack in her middle. Evidently this new discomfort was the sensation of her body rubbing against itself. Springing upright evenly redistributed this alien fat through her center, killing the fold… yet it came right back each time she manically hunched back over.

She leaped out of her bed and sprinted to her bathroom mirror, confirming her fears. Yesterday's bloating looked as though it had doubled. Well, it was obvious now that it wasn't bloating…

"I'm getting fatter."

She said faintly in disbelief, leaning over the sink as her big blue eyes stared into her reflection.

Her stomach now had a slight outward arc and sucking in only gave more prominence to that little underbelly. It required more effort for her fingertips to reach the stiffness of a rib, any sense of muscle definition had been lost completely as her thighs and upper arms were now noticeably swollen. Her collarbones were still visible between her broadened shoulders but just barely and only closest to where they met. Her upper arms looked thicker as well with a layer of creamy 'unsculpted muscle' covering her triceps. The itchy panic-inducing feeling of folding plagued her sides as she bent from left to right as her now pronounced love handles squished up against the puffiness arcing over her rib/sternum line and the bottoms of her armpits. Her almost nonexistent chest had blown up like water balloons, going up a cup size at the very least. Each breast had expanded into teardrop-esque shapes. She could even feel the tip of her tail poking out atop a higher spot on her back than usual, she swiveled around to confirm her inflated butt cheeks had sent it upward to a different angle. The inward dent of her glutes had been filled in and forgotten as well, the result of countless workouts gone just like that. She didn't seem to be overweight, however she was now at the high edge of the average weight range… a day ago she was dangerously close to underweight. In silence… Unable to process what had happened to her she hopped her now athletically thick body slightly in the air, with less jiggling than she would've expected aside from her bust. The cellulite clung as densely as it could to the muscle it now surrounded, she at least wasn't flabby. She looked and felt like a girl who had the respectable workout regime that she did, if just kept eating one too many cupcakes. That realization had understandably done little to calm the poor girl down; however. She needed a scale. Hunched over she began ravaging through the drawers of her bathroom, cringing at both the continuous scrunching of her stomach and how far she could feel her derriere sticking out behind her. Every towel, razor and shampoo bottle had been knocked over before she focused back in and smacked herself harder than she'd intended. The scale was behind the toilet.

She stepped on it, dreading the result. The digital numbers read.

'141 mlb'

Twenty seven pounds. Twenty seven mobian pounds higher than what she weighed last time she had checked.. and presumably what she had weighed less than twenty four hours ago. It was obvious what was causing this, it was the only possible explanation. She chastised herself for chalking it up to mere bloating before.

Sally gripped the ring on her right pinky with her left hand, expecting it to slide off seamlessly. Instead it instantly snagged against the flesh on her finger above.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

She huffed under her breath, apparently even her fingers were thicker now than when they were when she had first dawned this stupid golden band.

She yanked as hard as she could, ignoring the pain but the ring only dug more and more into the meat on her finger. If she pulled any more she'd suffer a dislocation or even fillet her poor digit.

She realized she needed to either call for help or leave her living quarters looking like this to search for some lubricant and pliers herself.

She immediately began debating between reaching Bunnie or Nicole. Then she realized-

"Sonic!"

He was wearing the same ring, she chastised herself for not immediately worrying for his well being. He could be suffering the same effect, his 'fast metabolism' would likely not protect him from apparently magic carbs. She had to get a hold of him first, this was her fault after all.

_______

Sonic laid back against his bed, relaxed and reading a comic book.

His ear perked at the sound of his communicator beeping.

*Bpp bpp bpp!*

He took a wild guess who was calling and why.

"Sonic, the rings!"

Sally's panicked voice shouted.

"What about 'em?"

He feigned ignorance, his voice sounded completely innocent.

"I-I… what do you mean what about them!?"

The princess sounded completely baffled.

"Take yours off, come over."

She ordered, he noticed her voice was shaky.

"On my way."

He responded.

Within a minute Sonic paced through the already open doors of her balcony.

"Sal?"

He asked, peeking in, ready to take a look at his own handiwork. Sally was leaning against the back of her couch frowning.

She gestured to herself as if to say 'well..?'

She didn't want Sonic to see her like this, but with the chance that he too may have been affected she had to bare it. False alarm though, he seemed the exact same.

Sally however looked, if Sonic had to describe it: broader.

"Huh."

"Yeah, huh!"

The princess panicked. She winced as Sonic poked her middle.

"I thought the same thing was happening to you!"

The princess threw her arms out.

"Huh? Oh nah, I already figured these out."

He held his ring out in the palm of his hand.

"Come again?"

Sally cocked an eyebrow, why was he being so nonchalant?

"Yeah it's weird, when we're both wearing them it's like we switch guts. If I eat something it ends up in your stomach and you digest it quick, like if you had my stomach. I was starving yesterday and I couldn't figure out why."

He chuckled.

'Well, at least that means I won't be getting any bigger…'

She thought.

...She thought.

She had hoped merely taking the ring off would reverse her gain but that seemed pretty unlikely now.

"Okay. So you just have to put the ring back on and not eat anything for a couple days, with your metabolism this should melt off me."

She planned, calming down somewhat as she rubbed her temples.

"Oh, yeah! I was just going to run around a bunch and see if that worked."

"We can try that too!"

She smiled awkwardly.

Sonic’s already unusually coy expression deeppend. He leaned in to Sally's surprise, his nose touching hers. He smiled.

"On one condition."

"What!?"

She was taken back by that.

"We have a proper date at Uncle Chuck's. No healthy options, you're going to actually try the juicy stuff. The stuff people actually come for."

He said as authoritatively as he was physically capable of.

Sally's brows were pressed against each other and her mouth was agape.

"You're gonna finally experience the fun of pigging out a little, no reason not to now. Calories aren't a sweat anymore if we can just put these on and I can take them off for you."

He crossed his arms, still grinning.

"Are you serious!?"

She asked at a rather high volume, partially due to laughter… partially due to legitimate rage.

"Well if not, I could just keep my ring on twenty four seven. I'm guessing you can't get yours off or you'd've done it already…

He pointed to her thickened digit.

...so maybe you could see what it's like to really be chunky since you thought it was hi-larious with me."

He crossed his arms in victory.

Sally couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Sonic, you literally can't get away with this. Do you really want to have to explain to our families and our friends what you're doing? They're already going to notice, look at me!"

Sonic's smile deepened, making Sally even more uncomfortable. It was clear to the princess that he knew something she didn't.

"Hey. You, me and a large basket full of chilidogs… that's all it'll take to stop this."

He declared smugly before flipping off the balcony.

Sally ran to the guard rail.

"I'll dump you!"

Sonic merely laughed as he took off below.

Sally frowned, he'd called her bluff. Fine, two could play it that way.

She tossed on her sky blue boots and vest, both were squeezing her now. Her top was cutting off circulation from her armpits to her triceps as the jacket's arm holes were shaped to suit a thin woman. Sally’s boots had one problem spot as well, the band squeezed the upper calves and the bottom of her thighs… no discomfort anywhere else yet. Wanting as few people as she knew to see her, Sally took the same path to ground level as Sonic did. She jumped off the balcony and did a parkour roll as she landed on the cobblestone trails of New Mobotropolis. She noted the minor discomfort she would usually feel in her back and shoulder when landing from such a height had disappeared thanks to the extra cushion, though she had plummeted a little harder than she was accustomed to with the extra weight. Her knees had taken a bit of strain from the start of her landing, it was a further reminder that if Sonic wasn't just pulling her leg such feats would soon become impossible to her. The princess' eyes darted about as she power walked through the crisp morning air. She kept tugging her vest forward in the hopes of covering herself a little, though there was more of her to cover now and the piece was revealing to begin with. She found herself surprised at the lack of reactions from the citizens she passed. She was expecting some pointing and whispering amongst onlookers or at worst pictures being taken but she saw nothing of the sort.

'Maybe it isn't as noticeable as I thought.'

She hoped, continuing her quick strut.

Luckily she didn't bump into anyone she knew on her way down to the Hedgehog's house.

She knocked on the door and was met by Bernadette.

"Morning princess! What's up?"

She smiled, friendly as ever.

"Oh, just wanted to talk to you and Sonic about something."

She smirked.

She further opened the door, welcoming her inside.

"Maurice! I think you're in trouble!"

Bernadette called, her smile having deepened.

"Doubt it!"

He responded, stepping out of his room looking even more cocky than usual.

"No, you are."

Sally threatened with her arms crossed.

"What did he do?"

Bernie asked, her tone belied a healthy mixture of amusement and annoyance.

What else was she to feel watching her son and his long time girlfriend squabble in their twenties the exact same way they had when they were five. You'd think after all the trauma they'd suffered together over the years they'd be more understanding with one another, more mature. Nope.

"Notice anything different about me?"

The princess gestured to herself.

Bernie just stared at her with a blank expression.

"It's okay, you're not going to hurt my feelings."

She assured, but still Bernadette said nothing.

"...You're going to have to help me here honey."

The elder hedgehog frowned.

Sally laughed awkwardly again.

"No really, it's fine!"

The chipmunk reassured, tossing her hands up.

Bernadette merely shrugged.

'Is it seriously not that noticeable!?'

Sally had to ask herself. She was flabbergasted.

'It's almost thirty pounds!'

She continued internally.

"He was already asking me if you looked funny in his pictures of you, but I have no idea what you two are seeing."

She admitted. Sally: now pretty confused herself, swiveled her head back to Sonic.

"Well Sal… want to explain it to her?"

Sally huffed. If her growth somehow wasn't noticeable to anyone else then she would simply have to wait until it became… more noticeable.

"Or do you agree to my terms?"

He pressed coyly.

Bernie stood up wandering off to the living room.

"Alright I'm tapping out, you two are beyond me. Maurice, whatever you're doing stop it."

"Wanna try someone else?"

He leaned against the wall in a b-boy pose, clearly happy with himself.

"Bunnie will notice."

Sally threatened.

"Bunnie would think it's as funny as I do."

She folded, that was probably true.

"Fine Sonic, keep it going! Make it bad enough so that she'll notice."

Sally pointed to the rug room.

Sonic placed his head in his hand.

"This isn't the stalemate you think it is."

He cooed ominously.

"So, unc's at six?"

He offered.

"Ugh!"

Sally turned out the door.

"Taking that as a no!"

He called down the road.

___

Sally had arrived back in her room, she'd been lucky enough that only some guards had seen her. Not her parents, not her brother. She sat back on her couch pouting, further annoyed by the reappearance of the scrunching sensation. Days like today when her schedule wasn't booked up and there was no disaster to attend to were usually made busy through exercising and training.

"I guess there's no point in doing it now."

She realized as she growled.

She watched TV simply waiting to feel herself get fatter so she could go show everyone to tell on Sonic. While she knew Bunnie and Amy would be no help Antoine, Tails and Rotor would come to her aid since Sonic’s folks would be spending the rest of their day at the restaurant. She didn’t want to stroll into a densely crowded space looking like a whale. However, the mere folding of her middle and molding of her rear was doing nothing but making the squirming and sighing princess restless. The feeling of butterflies wouldn't go away, how could they with her impending doom? Maybe she didn't have to wait, maybe she didn't have to give Sonic the privilege of seeing her with a full spare tire. She knew other speedsters and other mobians with abilities that could possibly reverse Sally's expansion if given the ring. Maybe if she could get Sonic's ring out of his hands she could fix this without his blessing.

Sally quickly tossed a blanket over herself before calling-

"Nicole!"

Suddenly a green frame appeared before the princess and a dark brown lynx girl materialized onto it.

"Mhm?"

She smiled.

"I need you to do me a favor, can you keep an eye on Sonic?"

Nicole looked concerned.

"Oh, is something wrong?"

"He's just messing with me, he has a little ring that he knows I need. If he leaves it vulnerable let me know."

"Oookay?"

She cocked an eyebrow but she was smiling again.

"Don't ask."

Sally frowned, knowing Nicole was going to want more context.

"Okay."

Nicole didn’t press, she simply gave a thumbs up before dispersing into green pixels. Her consciousness returned to monitoring the kingdom.

Sally sighed as she tossed the blanket off, if she were to go with her plan B where she didn't have to humiliate herself to get Sonic yelled at then she was going to need to go back out at some point to take it from him. The longer this went on the more likely she was to be seen, and she still had to worry about getting bigger.

Sally browsed her wardrobe, frowning as it was only now she wished she covered up more frequently. If Bernadette genuinely hadn't noticed her new softness while it was all out there then maybe she could effectively hide it from everyone with the right clothing.

Unfortunately nearly her entire selection was comprised of similar blue vests and combat boots, aside from pajamas and nice 'princesses-y' dresses for special occasions. It was also now that she wished she had been more fashionable in general, more patterned or stylish clothes could help distract from this excess weight yet all she had was plain and practical. She didn't need to hide her body when she was hot and her natural beauty meant no fancy accessories were required to add to it. Her dark red locks, sad blue eyes and most importantly her toned body compensated for her complete lack of fashion sense.

'Ugh.'

She held her head, she needed to calm down a little. She was acting as if she would never be her old size again when in the worst case scenario, Sonic would just thin her back down whenever he stopped getting amusement out of this… which would be after maybe a few weeks...

Sally shut her dresser doors with a huff. Any of those clothes were going to be a little snug on her as she was already, and she was likely going to graduate from a medium to a large within the afternoon anyway if her other half had anything to say about it. Sally couldn’t feel it but she was sure hundreds of calories were already being pumped into her as she sat about here, being converted to fat at super speed.

The princess laid out her yoga mat, she could at least maintain her flexibility without having to worry about her boyfriend undoing her hard work.

She descended into splits, exhaling as she tried to relax a little.

"Sally-girl!"

A raspy, high-pitched southern accent called to her from behind her bedroom door. Sally's calm was instantly destroyed, she didn't want anymore people seeing her like this than was necessary and Bunnie was most likely to pick up on her expansion after Sonic. Instantly, before Sally could make it to her blanket a blonde rabbit simply strolled in towing some chicken noodle soup.

"Hi… Bunnie."

The princess greeted her best friend in an uncharacteristically awkward tone of voice.

"Hey hon, Sonic told me you were sick. Figured I could whip you up some broth."

'Of course he did…'

She muttered under her breath.

"Oh, you didn't have to Bun."

She smiled, taking the bowl and holding it up to her midriff.

"Yeah.. but 'ah never get to cook anything fer you, also 'ah just wanted to see how you were. You doin' yoga?"

She asked, slightly confused.

"Oh yeah, thought maybe it'd help me feel better. Didn't work."

Sally responded, reaching for the blanket on the sofa. Bunnie cocked an eyebrow at the strange uncertainty in Sally's answer. She knew her best friend and very rarely if ever did she come off as anything but confident, it was especially odd given that it was such a simple question.

Bunnie frowned.

"Sally-girl... yer not really sick, are you?"

"I-

Sally cut herself off, realizing how foolish it would be to try to continue to lie.

no…"

Maybe she would be going with plan A after all... Sally sat the soup down, revealing more of her middle.

"Obviously you can tell right?"

Sally waved hands to herself.

"Uhm…

The southern belle wiggled her index finger in front of her mouth.

Sally's mouth dropped and her eyes widened, Bunnie seriously looked confused.

"Bunnie!?"

Sally cried, completely offended.

"Wut!?"

The rabbit shouted defensively and in utter confusion. She put her hand to her head.

"Did you guys just always think I was fat!?"

Sally threw her hands out.

Bunnie paused, looking Sally over and trying to think of what exactly she was supposed to say.

"Sally girl, you know 'ah would be the first to tell you if you were putting on a few. But you look the exact same t'uh me."

Bunnie mustered as sincere a look as she could as she placed a hand on the chipmunks shoulder. Sally squinted, then her eyes widened again.

"Bunnie, you're actually serious aren't you?"

"Sheesh hon, what'd you go up by? Two pounds?"

Bunnie joked.

"I think you need your eyes checked. "

Sally responded bitterly.

"Well erm, Sally… maybe it's that yer just now noticing but you've always been a little bit broader than Amy and 'ah."

"What!? No I wasn't!? I was the skinniest!"

She yelled in utter shock at what was coming out of her best friend's mouth.

"Sal…"

Mrs.D'coolette merely smirked.

"You're helping Sonic aren't you?"

Sally accused as she leant in.

"I promise I'll eat your soup if you stop playing along."

Sally's voice sounded almost unhinged, Bunnie had seemed genuine but there was no possible explanation she of all people could have believed what she was saying.

Bunnie threw her hands up defensively.

"Sally-girl... yer freaking me out now."

"I was the maid of honour at your wedding! You know my dress size!"

"Yeah, you're a ten?"

Bunnie answered, now concerned for Sally’s mental health.

"I'm a two! I-

Sally was about to shout, insulted again before she paused… her expression went blank.

"Wait… Nicole!"

The holo-Lynx reappeared.

"Aren't I supposed to be spying on Sonic?"

Nicole chuckled (unlike Knuckles).

"What are y'all spying on sugah-hog for!?"

Bunnie asked.

"What was my weight the last time I had you run diagnostics on me?"

Sally questioned, completely ignoring Bunnie's own confusion for the moment.

“...”

"One hundred forty five pounds."

She replied nonchalantly.

"I'm gonna kill him."

Sally rubbed her temples.

[pbandjesse]

I think I did a good job just chilling today. I am feeling a little guilty about it now but like. I think at least today was good and restful.

And that was really needed. I wish James had off too because neither of us slept well. They woke up around 230 and we're in a lot of pain and have been up since then. And I was up a lot too worrying about them. I hate how much pain they are in, and it seems to always be worse at night. I wish I could take their pain away.

They took the car to work like I told them too. And I slept in. And when I woke up the sun was to bright. But I worked my way out of bed.

I stripped the bed down and went to get dressed while the bed aired out for a while.

I originally was going to wear actual clothes but just put on my jumpsuit. I was very cozy.

I had egg salad for breakfast. And watched a lot of videos. Very soon I would get back in bed and would catch up on my knitting.

I had a nice time just chilling and watching tiktoks and knitting. Sweetp was there. It was a really nice just hanging out.

I would put the dishes away and then decided to get my laptop and continue working on my honeymoon packing list. I had started compiling that the other day but I wanted to make it a little bit more easy to follow. So I broke it down by bags and then kind of put everything in order with like items. Like having all the tech together and all the wearables and waterproof stuff. And then after I finish organizing that I sent it to James so they could see it. And then I decided I was going to make images to go along with it. Which was probably my most favorite part of the whole project. Though something happened to one of my images and made the computer freak out so I had to move to my phone. But I was having a really good time.

All in all I think that took two hours. But it really satisfied the part of me that loves packing but I just don't have the energy to pull all of that stuff out right now and put all of it back away. Me and James will definitely do an actual run-through but it also really apparently is helpful for James to be able to see it broken down like that. Especially with the pictures. They apparently were having trouble visualizing what all of the stuff looked like and volume of it. And hopefully this will help them pick out their own stuff. Maybe we can lay down together and build an outfit and object list for them too. They probably don't need it but I think I would have a good time doing it.

I spent the rest of the afternoon just resting. Waiting for James to come home.

And when they did get home they brought me french fries. I love them so much. James not the french fries. Well I love the french fries but I love James more.

James was hurting pretty bad but we laid on the couch together until it was time for them to go to the theater for their shift. I felt bad that we had a kick sweetp off the couch because all he wants to do is lay on James's chest. And it just cannot happen right now. So we had to kick him off and he was a little pouty about that for a while.

When James left I decided to take a bath. And wash my hair. And try to deal with how broken out my face feels right now. It's not actually that bad. But I have these red bumps on my face that are driving me crazy. I'm hoping that they clear up soon because they feel gigantic even though I know they're not.

And once my hair was mostly dry I went and worked in the studio for a while. I stood together a few more of my mini 10 strip panels. And I'm 2/3 of the way done. Unless I decide I want to add more. I'm working at the museum tomorrow so maybe I'll bring them with me to work on. It's always nice to have a project while I'm waiting to see if anyone wants a tour. I can be working on them in the garment loft.

Once I finish that I worked on a little silly project I wanted to make for someone for Christmas. Using glue and paint and dimensional magic. To make a small diorama. But I was having a lot of issues with just making a mess. The cap of the dimensional magic came off and spilled all over my pajamas. And then I got blue paint all over my leg. And it's just like what is happening.

But now I'm back in bed. Hanging out with sweet pea. Waiting for James to get done. I hope they can come home soon. I think they're done around 10:30. And they don't have to wait for the theater people to clear out because they have their own key this time. Which is good because last time they made James wait a whole extra hour and it was really mean.

Tomorrow me and James are working together at the museum like I said and then we're going to go have dinner and then just spend some time together. I am looking forward to a nice day. Even though I really wish I didn't have to work. It's all right.

I hope you all sleep well. Take care of each other and try to stay warm. Good night. Until next time.