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mlyscha · 2 days ago

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↳ DRESS TO IMPRESS? ⭑

𝓼ynopsis. in which you convince your boyfriend to play dress to impress with you, will they slay the runway? 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, trendy. 𝔀arnings. curse words, not proofread, riki is that annoying player and almost all the members are bad at this game ㅠㅠ, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1k+ 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: oh gosh i had so much fun writing this, especially because i am addicted to this game lol anyway, do you guys have any headcanon request? i am curious...

― 𝓱eeseung: gets upset but doesn't quit playing.

you might be wondering why heeseung changed his mood like that, and that's because placing on the podium in dress to impress is hard ― for him. in the beginning, and sometimes unfair. when you told him you wanted to play with him ― your boyfriend was feeling very happy and giddy, creating his account the same second, not knowing how he would feel a few rounds later...

"BRO?! HOW DID SHE PLACED?!" he screamed after standing up from bed while his hands rested against his head, indignant. "LOOK AT ME, I LOOK MUCH PRETTIER!" and heeseung turned his ipad screen at you after laying back on his stomach on bed. "hee, baby... your skin is literally blue, that's not what coquette means..." you replied. "nonsense, even my fit is better! and you placed second you can't say shit! i am not playing this game anymore." he argued, throwing his ipad away from him. "don't quit, continue playing with me," you pouted, waiting for a new round to start. "i'm sorry, baby, but this game is absolutely dog shi- a new round has begun?" when the sound of a new round starting echoed, his mind seemed to have changed. "... yeah?" "okay, maybe one more round won't hurt..."

― 𝓳ongseong: gets into arguments with 8 year olds.

jongseong is a good, caring, handsome and mature boyfriend, however, immatureness possesses him when playing dress to impress. just to clear things up you had asked him to play the game with you before, so nothing was new to him ― neither to you: hearing him raging about a girl talking shit about his fashion sense. i can't forget to mention that he takes this game very serious ― especially when his girlfriend has an awesome ranking.

"look at me, i look so good," "yeah... you do..." you couldn't ignore how terribly your boyfriend's makeup was done. "give me five stars, okay?" "'kay..." "baby, if this girl tells me i look terrible one more time i'll do something really bad." "babe-" " 'you look ugly'...?" he read the chat. open his microphone: "SHUT UP, YOUR FIT LOOKS LIKE A TRASH BAG AND A PIECE OF SHIT JUST HAD A BABY," "JAY! she's a kid!" "and i am eating with this outfit- tha-that's how you guys say right? eat and all...?" "yes, you ate that outfit up babe."

― 𝓳aeyun: you have to be patient.

don't get me wrong, jaeyun is good at games, however, not in this one specifically. it took him about two days just to learn how to walk on roblox's games and how to jump, etc. imagine when you introduced this fashion game which you have time to dress yourself up, oh boy, he was confused. if learning the basics from controlling your avatar on roblox took him days, it took jaeyun a week to understand how to put on items, take them off, where you choose your hair and face... well, it was a pain, but he was able to get through it and play it almost normally.

"babe, why you're skin is grey?" "i didn't know where to change it," shrugs then tries to pose. "oh my god, babe, i showed you where a minute ago!" "okay, chill...! where do i pose though?" "oh my god, jaeyun..."

― 𝓼unghoon: has lots of difficulties but doesn't give up.

sunghoon is like a mix of heeseung and jake, which means he gets addicted, angry but can't stop playing and still has to be handled with patience and love. with that being said, be prepared to hear a bunch of questions and him leaving and then joining your server a few many times. also! can't forget that sunghoon is still a english learner, so the themes might be misunderstood by him sometimes heh... (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

"y/n~" he whines. "i'm done with this game!" leaves "babe, the theme was baggy and you literally dresses up as a trash bag..." "baggy means... bag? what did i do wrong?" "baggy is a style, not a trash bag," "should've told me earlier, y/n!" "hoonie-" "now everyone on the server thinks i am stupid! let's change server, join me now."

― 𝓼unoo: is the one who places first.

sunoo is undeniably the best dressed on the game among the members, usually winning against you. he has almost all the poses, knows how to layer and is always creative, even reaching top model before you.

"baby, can we play dress to impress together? i'm so close to reach top model." "yeah, su- WAIT! TOP MODEL?!" ― ooohhh, i might have forgotten to mention... sunoo plays dress to impress without you sometimes. "baby, just join me 'kay?" "sunshine, explain me how'd you reach top model before me? i play more than you do," "uh... i surely play more than you do, but okay," "wait, wha-" "babyyyy just join my server, i want you to celebrate this with me, alright?" "okay..." your heart softened when you realised he wanted you to be part of his reaching. "can we duo?" you asked. "we can, but just once; i would much rather vote you five (5) stars."

― 𝓳ungwon: jungwon.exe stopped working.

jungwon is like jake and oh gosh why i feel like every single one of them is a bit like him?!?! anyway, jungwon would be more than happy to join you, but has already told you that his skills might not really show up in this dressing game ― discreetly admitting that he doesn't know how to play it. he actually heard about the game because the other members seem to enjoy it. still, it's just not his cup of tea. however, since you were so excited about him playing with you, sigh, he might make this sacrifice ― in which he slowly gets very excited as well.

"wonnie, baby, why are you posing? you have to dress up before the times is up!" you warned him after spotting him on the game. "huh? it doesn't make sense, we have to dress up? where?" "there, baby," you gently took the ipad out of his hands and guided him to the changing booth. "oh... but is too far away from my spawn and why do i walk slower than that girl?" "because she bought a walk faster pack, now dress up wonnie, hurry up...!" "i want to buy that, how do i buy her pack?" "jungwon, dress up now, you have literally one minute." you spoke between your teeth. "okay, okay... y/n, where do i get the items though?" "jungwon..."

― 𝓻iki: it's that annoying giggly kid who doesn't follow the theme.

if you ever played dress to impress you probably came across to one of those annoying players who never follows the theme, with that, you might refuse to believe riki is this type of player; but trust me, he surely is. and why? because he doesn't take the game that seriously, doing whatever he wants and trolling people ― making them believe he's gonna gift them vip or one of the other packs.

"RIKI? HOW'D YOU PLACED FIRST?" "i'm just too good, i guess," your boyfriend shrugged, but you couldn't believe him. "you're lying." "are you saying i am not good at this game?" "..." "y/n," he would call you after suddenly bursting out of laughter. "what?" your annoyed tone of voice echoed and it sounded like his favourite music to his ears. "wanna know how i placed first?" riki looks up at you, hiding just half of his face with his ipad. "mhm..." you hummed, confirming. "i tricked a few girls saying that i would gift them vip if they voted me five (5) stars," he giggled, knowing you were about to get angry at him. "RIKI! you can't do that, imagine if that was me..." you pouted. "oh, yeah? i should've done worse then." "RIKI!" "OKAY! SORRY, enough of riki now, okay? i am baby, not riki..."

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sigh-tofm · 18 hours ago

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when they’re sick…

… price

- banishes himself to the couch and refuses care (to begin with). huffs and gruffs about not needing any special treatment, “‘s only a cold, hon”. his high fever begs to differ, though, so you pull out wool socks and thick knit jacket for him, not willing to let this cold develop into pneumonia. he goes on and on about how it’s not necessary, but you gently ignore him and cook up broth and toast for him in the kitchen, all the while overhearing his violent coughing fits. when you go back out to the living room he’s already asleep, not even snoring, and so pale in the face that he looks much older than he is. you pull a blanket over him and patiently sit next to him in an armchair, reading your book. when he wakes up he lets you dote on him without much complaining (though he doesn’t let you spoon feed him) and begrudgingly agrees to let you call his doctor in the morning if the coughing gets worse. he won’t say it but he secretly likes being taken care of for once.

… kyle

- loves being doted on by you. knows how to play it up a little, has observed his sisters get exactly what they want once they start coughing. bats his lashes at you and for lunch he sweetly asks for that chicken soup you know he likes so much. you let him get away with it because he is the most attentive boyfriend ever every time you’re even slightly under the weather - and you like getting to take care of the man who normally is so attuned to your needs. he will forgo the couch in favour of the bed and smile the way only he can when you come by with a tray of food for him. when the evening comes he’s long since fallen asleep when you come to bed. he’s grown more and more feverish throughout the day, despite your careful ministering of hydration and nourishment, and his face is ashen. you get a cool washcloth to put over his eyes and lie down next to him, gently spooning your wonderful boyfriend who could use some extra loving right now.

… johnny

- kinda wants you to get sick too. not in a malicious way, but in a ‘let’s rot on the couch together’-way. will beg you to stay home with him, says he needs you to keep him company while he watches footie reruns and that you’ll probably get sick either way when you already live in the same house and sleep in the same bed, so you might as well just take the week off. is in a cheery mood, especially considering the number showing on the thermometer and the way he slowly stumbles across the floor. you almost start thinking he’s making it all up, maybe heating the thermometer on a light bulb like a schoolboy, until you come home one day and find him bent over the toilet bowl, groaning. you take a little pity on him then and cook him plain rice and slice up a banana for him, easily digestible foods. he has no complaints nor requests and is unusually silent as you bundle him up and serve him the food (but still make him sit on the bathroom floor, he’s still looking a little green). he gets a sad little smile when you tell him you’ll take the day off tomorrow, because he shouldn’t be alone if he can’t keep food down. and as he said, you’ll probably get sick anyway, so you might as well.

… simon

- is lost. it happens so rarely to him that he doesn’t know how to respond to it. gunshot wounds, stab wounds and broken bones are fine; those he knows how to handle. rattling coughs, nausea and fevers are so rare for him that he doesn’t quite know what to do. one thing he does know is that it makes him vulnerable. a man who can’t stand up without leaning on a wall or can’t breathe silently is no use, he knows, so he does his best to hide it. denies it when you ask about his cough and shakes his head every now and then to fight off the nausea (it doesn’t work). you catch on when you lie a hand on his neck and retract it quickly when you feel the heat on his skin. you make him take a lukewarm shower and sit him down on the sofa with a blanket over his shoulders, while you go make soup. when you come back he’s laid down, as if he’s finally let the sickness catch up with him. he looks like the child he never got to be, all glassy eyed and skin blushing from the fever. you sit with him the rest of the night, spoon feeding him soup and gently petting his hair. if that’s a tear running down his cheek, none of you say anything about it.

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doomdoomofdoom · 1 day ago

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Holy shit that's fascinating.

The procedure itself takes about an hour, if I'm understanding correctly. It uses electricity applied to the small intestine to basically kill the ineffective detection cells and stimulate the growth of healthier detection cells.

The thing I can't seem to figure out is whether you would then need to regularly take semaglutide instead of insulin (therefore still making you permanently dependent on pharma prices)

Semaglutide is currently best known under the brand name Ozempic and costs about the same as insulin. It also will not be patent free until 2031 at the earliest.

It's worth noting that there's currently no cure for Diabetes (although there are several ongoing research projects worldwide), and that a healthy lifestyle and weight loss are the first treatment recommendations for patients. All 14 participants in this study started at what's considered an "unhealthy" weight (BMI above 25 (fuck BMI as a measurement tho)) and lost weight in the process.

A new treatment combining ReCET and semaglutide could eliminate the need for insulin in type 2 diabetes, with 86% of participants in a study no longer requiring insulin therapy. The treatment was safe and well-tolerated, and further trials are planned to confirm these results.

Groundbreaking research presented at UEG Week 2024 introduces a promising new treatment approach for type 2 diabetes (T2D) that has the potential to greatly reduce or even eliminate the need for insulin therapy.

This innovative approach, which combines a novel procedure known as ReCET (Re-Cellularization via Electroporation Therapy) with semaglutide, resulted in the elimination of insulin therapy for 86% of patients.

Globally, T2D affects 422 million people... While insulin therapy is commonly used to manage blood sugar levels in T2D patients, it can result in side effects... and further complicate diabetes management. [Note: Also very importantly it's fucking bankrupting people who need it!!] A need therefore exists for alternative treatment strategies.

Study Design and Outcomes

The first-in-human study included 14 participants aged 28 to 75 years, with body mass indices ranging from 24 to 40 kg/m². Each participant underwent the ReCET procedure under deep sedation, a treatment intended to improve the body’s sensitivity to its own insulin. Following the procedure, participants adhered to a two-week isocaloric liquid diet, after which semaglutide was gradually titrated up to 1mg/week.

Remarkably, at the 6- and 12-month follow-up, 86% of participants (12 out of 14) no longer required insulin therapy, and this success continued through the 24-month follow-up. In these cases, all patients maintained glycaemic control, with HbA1c levels remaining below 7.5%.

Tolerability and Safety

The maximum dose of semaglutide was well-tolerated by 93% of participants, one individual could not increase to the maximum dose due to nausea. All patients successfully completed the ReCET procedure, and no serious adverse effects were reported.

Dr Celine Busch, lead author of the study, commented, “These findings are very encouraging, suggesting that ReCET is a safe and feasible procedure that, when combined with semaglutide, can effectively eliminate the need for insulin therapy.”

“Unlike drug therapy, which requires daily medication adherence, ReCET is compliance-free [meaning: you don't have to take it every day], addressing the critical issue of ongoing patient adherence in the management of T2D. In addition, the treatment is disease-modifying: it improves the patient’s sensitivity to their own (endogenous) insulin, tackling the root cause of the disease, as opposed to currently available drug therapies, that are at best disease-controlling.”

Looking ahead, the researchers plan to conduct larger randomized controlled trials to further validate these findings. Dr. Busch added, “We are currently conducting the EMINENT-2 trial with the same inclusion and exclusion criteria and administration of semaglutide, but with either a sham procedure or ReCET. This study will also include mechanistic assessments to evaluate the underlying mechanism of ReCET.”

-via SciTechDaily, October 17, 2024

Note: If it works even half as well as suggested, this could free so many people from the burden of the ongoing ridiculous cost of insulin. Pharma companies that make insulin can go choke (hopefully).

#ramble #the sample size makes sense considering this was the first human trial. the question is how/if it can be reproduced #also the whole weight thing is just. very complicated. socially i mean.#they did measure the fat in the liver specifically (which is bad regardless of weight) and that did also go down which is good #still like. worried that the conclusion is “take weight loss drugs because the cause of your diabetes is being fat”#which is a contributor to Type 2 and all. but medical fatphobia is bad enough as it is.

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billyharris · 2 days ago

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Inspired by @piratefalls ‘s post

Buck attempts to shift himself onto his stomach to sneak in ten more minutes of sleep before he needs to shower and get ready for work, but he’s pinned to the bed by an arm splayed across his chest. The muscley arm of his boyfriend. Just thinking about that word causes Buck’s insides to flip. He has a boyfriend. A big, strong, beast of a boyfriend – who looks like a vision as he softly snores next to him.

Buck and Tommy were at the same apartment fire downtown last night. Half of LA’s stations were there. It took all that combined manpower to finally put out the fire that had spread to all twenty floors of the building. Buck didn’t even have time to quickly meet up with Tommy and tell him how hot he looked landing the chopper on a flame-engulfed rooftop. All he could do was wave as he flew away and deal with the (not so) gentle ribbing of his team making whip sounds at him.

A little bit after the fire was put out, the 118 were dispatched to another call. They didn’t need as many stations there for the cleanup and triage. As they were driving away, he saw Lucy loading another victim into the back of Tommy’s chopper – his third trip back from Presbyterian. He ended up making another two before the end of his shift.

Buck’s shift ended first. He changed and went to Tommy’s to surprise him with dinner after a long and exhausting shift. As of late, Buck has been staying at Tommy’s more than going home to the loft. Even though it’s a longer drive to the 118, nothing beats getting to wake up next to (or entangled with) his boyfriend.

Buck wanted to stay up and wait for Tommy, but he was exhausted himself and ended up passing out hours before Tommy got home. Around midnight, Tommy buried his face into Buck’s neck, apologizing for waking him up – not like he had to. Buck will always savor every second he gets with his boyfriend. With the man he’s fallen for.

Tommy was misty-eyed as he recalled his last transfer. They didn’t get to the hospital in time. The patient, a college student, succumbed to her injuries minutes before they landed. Lucy tried to perform compressions, but there was no use – she was gone.

It’s part of the job. Both have lost plenty of people with the LAFD. Doesn’t make it any easier. One of the perks of dating another first responder is having someone who knows exactly what it feels like. The regret, the blame, the what ifs – Buck’s been there. Been there more times than he can count.

So even when his muscles were steeped in exhaustion and he had an early shift the next morning, Buck gave Tommy what he needed. He held him down and sank into him, fucking him slowly and reverently until his mind was clouded with only thoughts of him and their shared connection. He showered him in praise, worshiped every patch of skin he could reach and reminded him of all the good he’s done. How he’s worthy of the pleasure he’s giving him. How loved he is.

It’s an act of service that Buck is usually on the other end of. He’s more likely to bring home the trauma of work – he’s over-emotional, he’s too much at times, he’s exhausting – yet time and time again, Tommy takes care of him. The least he could do was return the favor last night.

Buck watches Tommy sleep for a few minutes. He’s beautiful, a work of art unlike Buck’s ever seen before. His chiseled muscles and cleft chin are so handsome, so masculine – it takes his breath away watching him. Sometimes Buck feels like he needs to pinch himself. He still can’t believe this side of himself was hidden away for so long. How he couldn’t see who he was after years of searching for it. But, if he came out before, who knows if he would have met Tommy? Who knows if he would have happiness like he’s found with his boyfriend? He’s right where he’s meant to be, when he’s supposed to be.

Buck turns his alarm off before it wakes Tommy. He kisses the top of his head and slides out from under his (beefy) grip to start getting ready for work. He does his morning routine, basking in the smell of Tommy’s shampoo and soap on his skin. He’s never going back to his old brand. Not when he can have Tommy’s signature cedar scent on him all day, reminding him who he’s going home to at the end of his shift. He throws on one of Tommy’s hoodies (for the same reason) and a pair of dark jeans.

When Buck makes it back to the bedroom, Tommy is still fast asleep – snoring louder now that his mouth isn’t muffled by Buck’s neck. He kneels on the bed and lays a quick kiss to Tommy’s bare shoulder. He really wants a proper goodbye kiss before work, but he’d rather let his boyfriend sleep.

But then Tommy turns over on his side, pulling Buck into a patented Thomas Kinard bear hug. “C’mere.” He grumbles, barely awake. His eyes are still closed.

“Babe, I have work.” He whispers into Tommy’s jaw. Tommy’s lucky enough to have today off. “I’m coming over later.”

“You’ll be coming alright.” He smirks, still in a sleepy daze.

“Okay old man.” Buck laughs, prying himself from his boyfriend’s grasp. He kisses Tommy again, this time on the lips. “Get some rest so I can hold you to that…” He can’t help it - He kisses him again, this time lingering for a few seconds.

“Mmm hmm.” He burrows his face further into the pillow, falling back asleep. Buck stands up and checks his watch, seeing he’s officially running late. Great. “Stay safe, love you.”

Buck freezes. He turns back to see Tommy is out. “Babe?” He questions. He doesn’t get a response. He’s not sure if Tommy was even awake when he said it. But he definitely said it. Said that all important four-letter word. A word they had yet to say to each other. Until now.

All Buck can think about is another four-letter word - Fuck.

#bucktommy #bucktommy Drabble #bucktommy fic #Tevan #Tevan fic #Tevan Drabble #bucktommy speculation #my writing #was going to write more #but I don’t really have it in me today

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mbruben-stein · 3 days ago

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MHA boys reaction to finding out after the final war that their s/o became wheelchair bound and became a teacher after the war ended.

~Izuku Midoriya~

When Izuku first learns that his s/o was badly injured in the war and can no longer walk, he would be absolutely devastated. Seeing the person he loves in so much pain, and knowing they sacrificed their mobility fighting alongside him, would tear him apart with grief and guilt. He'd likely break down crying and apologizing profusely for not protecting them.

But once the initial shock passes, Izuku's compassionate and supportive nature would quickly take over. He would do everything in his power to be there for his s/o during their recovery and adaptation to life in a wheelchair. Izuku would constantly encourage them, telling them how incredible and heroic they are for all they've done. He'd be endlessly patient, helping them with daily tasks and pushing their wheelchair without complaint.

At the same time, Izuku would make sure not to coddle or pity his s/o. He knows how strong and capable they are. So while he offers help, he'd also give them space to figure things out and maintain their independence as much as possible. Izuku would cheer on every milestone as they learn to navigate the world in new ways.

I imagine Izuku being so proud when his s/o takes a job teaching at UA. Using their skills and experience to help train the next generation of heroes is an amazing way for them to continue making a difference, wheelchair or no wheelchair. Izuku would brag about them to everyone. On tough days, he'd remind them what an inspiration they are to their students.

Overall, this tragedy would only make Izuku love and admire his s/o more. He'd stand by their side unconditionally, being the steadfast pillar of support they can always count on. They would grow even closer through this challenge. To Izuku, his s/o will always be his hero, no matter what.

~Katsuki Bakugo~

Initially, Bakugo is filled with rage and guilt. He's furious at the villains who hurt his s/o so badly, and furious at himself for not being able to protect them. He may lash out or seem angry at first, but it's masking his devastation and self-blame.

Once the initial shock and anger fades, Bakugo becomes fiercely protective and supportive of his s/o. He's determined to be there for them no matter what as they adjust to their new circumstances. He helps them with physical therapy, getting their home accessibility upgraded, and anything else they need without complaint.

Bakugo is secretly very proud that his s/o has taken on a teaching role at UA to help train the next generation of heroes. He knows they have a wealth of experience and wisdom to share. But he grumbles that the "damn kids better not give you any trouble or they'll have to answer to me."

When his s/o has hard days and gets frustrated with their physical limitations, Bakugo is quick to remind them that they're still every bit the incredible hero and person they've always been. "You think a little thing like a wheelchair makes you any less amazing? Don't be a damn idiot."

Bakugo makes it clear to everyone that NOTHING about his love and respect for his partner has changed. He shuts down any pitying looks or comments immediately. His s/o is still the badass he fell in love with and he won't let anyone imply otherwise.

On the anniversary of the day his s/o was injured, Bakugo is always extra attentive, planning special things to show how glad he is to still have them by his side. He knows things could have turned out much worse and he'll never take their presence for granted.

Overall, in the end, he loves them for who they are no matter what.

~Shoto Todoroki~

When Shoto first learns what happened to his partner, he feels a mix of deep concern, sadness, and anger that they were so badly injured. Even years later, remembering the moment he found out still brings back those painful emotions. He wishes more than anything he could have protected them.

At the same time, Shoto is incredibly proud of his S/O's bravery, sacrifice and strength. They put their life on the line as a hero, just like he did. And now they are channeling that same heroic spirit into inspiring and guiding the next generation at UA. Shoto has endless respect and admiration for them.

Shoto makes sure to be there to physically and emotionally support his partner as much as possible, especially early on as they adjust to using a wheelchair. He helps make their home fully accessible. If his S/O is self-conscious about the wheelchair, Shoto reassures them that it doesn't change how he feels at all - he loves them unconditionally and their chair is a symbol of their courage.

When he visits them at work, Shoto loves seeing his S/O in their element - skillfully navigating the school grounds and classrooms, captivating the students with their hard-earned wisdom and experience. The students look up to them immensely. Shoto teases that they're everyone's favorite teacher.

In private moments, Shoto makes sure his partner knows how much he cherishes them. The war took a heavy toll on them both physically and mentally. But supporting each other and building a life together has brought hope and light back after so much darkness.

Overall, his S/O inspires Shoto to be a better hero and person every day.

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gomzdrawfr · 1 day ago

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so here's a NikPrice angst idea I got:

Whenever Price gets drunk, he ends up spilling more to Nikolai than he intends, feelings he'd never share when he's sober. He speaks about things he'd rather keep hidden, the what ifs and talks about future

and then he blacks out, forgetting every word by morning, and Nikolai is left to bear the weight of those confession, patting Price's shoulders like everything was fine when it's not.

The next time Price drinks himself to the point, reaching for Nikolai's arm, eyes unfocused and voice a bit slurry, starts with "you know, one day I want to tell you—”

But Nikolai stops him.

Nikolai stops Price, cupping his jaw and squeezing his face just enough to turn his ramble into a muted mumble, lips pressed together, silenced.

"I know," Nikolai whispers, shaking his head gently, it's a plea, but he never says please don't.

"I know," Nik repeats, wearing a solemn smile to hide the tears in his eyes.

"Don't say it when I can't do anything about it." When I can't act on it.

And so, the confession goes unsaid, the I need you let to drift between them. Nikolai waits, he's a patient man he'll wait for the day Price will say the three words while sober. But Price on the other hand is convinced that Nikolai doesn't feel the same, holds it all inside and take this secret to his grave, never realizing that Nikolai has always known— and felt the same.

#hi i just got on my train after work and im choosing violence today forgive me KJASHFLKSJDHFAKL #when you put someone who would wait a lifetime for something and someone stubbornly keeping their desire a secret together #sum #anyways if its ooc forgive me i think ive never really wrote anything nikprice related #WELP off to dinner i go good day KJAHSKDA #gummmythoughts #nikprice #cod nikolai #captain john price #captain price #john price

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antirapecoalition · 3 hours ago

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Lots to think about. I genuinely do not believe women owe patience or gentleness to men, but I also do think that anyone, female or male, is in danger of being in an echo chamber. The Left in the West eats itself because no one can offer any ground to outsiders without being seen as having committed Wrong Think.

Chairman Mao said that a reactionary person is merely a comrade you have not made yet. I like to keep that idea in my mind when I interact with women who are more vocally conservative than I am yet tend to align themselves with radical feminist ideology without ever exploring that fact. The same thought could be applied to men, as it initially was.

I don't think males are ultimately, irreparably evil and degenerate at birth. I think everyone is born as a "blank slate" until our cultures, societies, religions, etc., write all over us. I think men are also victims of patriarchy but also struggle, like every human being, with finding a community that is patient and willing to struggle with the struggler.

Men who are Leftists, if you care about this as much as I do, develop that kindness and brotherhood you witness in conservative spaces. Foster among yourselves a FAQ for men who might be interested in your politics. I keep thinking of that Andrea Dworkin quote where she's like, "What do you want ME to do about it? Don't tell me, tell the warmongers and the pornographers. I'm only a woman."

Men, in their own way, have a responsibility to revamp and reframe the Left and develop empathy amongst themselves. Women hold up half the sky. Men must hold up their end of the political bargain, too. Women know women better than men, and I think it's safe to say the reverse is true. Know Thyself: know your limitations, your desires, your hopes for the struggle. Then, practice that empathy you developed by seeking out and counseling men just like you in your political spaces.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

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aealzx · 1 day ago

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_______________________

Update Post

Prologue | AO3

_______________________

“...o, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Someone had entered the room that morning, and now Jazz was talking to someone that could have been them or another person entirely. The haze of their lowered conversation was helping to pull Danny from the fog of sleep. But after the initial part it sounded like the conversation was one sided.

“Clothes?.... Actually, I don’t know what he would like. He hasn’t bought anything for himself for two years now. And never has a response when we ask.”

That response made Danny feel like they were talking about him. Jazz and whoever she was talking to. It was probably on the phone. He felt a little bad, but what she had just said was true. He hadn’t really done much when it came to clothing lately. Sam and Tucker had mostly been the ones to give his Phantom attire an update, and he just hadn’t bothered to address anything else.

“No, I’m not going to wake him up. He needs his rest-”

“Mmm… ‘s fine, J’zz. ‘M awake,” Danny forced himself to mumble even though he wasn’t quite fully alert yet. Relaxing in the study the previous evening had been really nice, and his spirits had risen a little when the few sips of broth he’d had a few hours before bed hadn’t made him sick again. But he still felt like a truck had hit him in his sleep, which made that morning hard. “Izzat for me? Here…” he asked, lazily flopping his hand into the air so that Jazz could give him the phone.

Jazz seemed to consider it for a moment, but eventually sighed and walked over to put the borrowed cellphone in Danny’s hand. Danny couldn’t see, having not managed to open his eyes yet, but Alfred was waiting patiently at the door to get it back. For now Danny just flopped it next to his head and turned his ear into it. “Mm…’ello?”

“Danny! Good morning~”

It was Stephanie. Chiming in a bubbly way that was much too energetic for… what time was it? Still felt too early.

“So, we’re out shopping and getting some new clothes for everyone, but your friends are being unhelpful and keep saying you don’t have any kind of style you like. Soooo, you get to answer. What would you like us to pick up for you? And what size do you usually wear?” Stephanie rambled, anticipating Danny would have more answers than the others.

“Uhhhhhh….,” Danny stalled, both because he was still waking up and she had said a lot of words, but also because he didn’t have an answer. “I dunno. A t-shirt and jeans? I’m usually a size smaller than Tucker though.”

“Seriously? That’s it? That’s so boring,” Stephanie complained.

“See? We told you, but you didn’t believe us.” Danny could hear Tucker’s voice, and figured he was on speaker.

“He just kept wearing the same clothes he had when he was fourteen, and only has new ones because the rest of us bought some for him. But he was so unhelpful then too that we had to settle for just getting him space themed stuff,” Sam huffed, and Danny could hear her folding her arms in annoyance.

“Hey, I got a lot of other stuff to worry about than clothes,” Danny protested to defend himself.

“You like space themed stuff though?” Dick’s voice chimed in now.

“Yeah, I still like space,” Danny confirmed. “Can’t do much with it these days, but I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut,” he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed about admitting his childhood dream.

“Cool. What about puns?” Dick hummed, adding another question quickly.

“No. Dick, don’t you dare,” Stephanie scolded.

Danny could only smile though. “I love puns,” he confirmed, not able to pick out who was all contributing to the chorus of groans and complaints, “Why? You got a good one?”

“Maybe. You’ll see,” Dick’s response was with barely held mirth. “Thanks kiddo, take it easy,” he bid before ending the call.

Well at least that was something to look forward to. Danny’s smile didn’t fade as he lifted the phone from the pillow to hand back to Jazz, who then returned it to Alfred. He ended up rolling over and laying there for a little longer, which made Jazz giggle and run her fingers through his hair for a bit. It was comfortable, and at least he wasn’t so tired he fell asleep right after waking up.

“...Alfred made some more of the broth you got last night. Do you want to try some more?” Jazz eventually asked when Danny finally managed to keep his eyes open and focus on things.

Danny considered how he felt before answering, and ended up nodding. “These help,” he admitted, pointing to the anti nausea patch behind his ear. It was enough confirmation for Jazz to move to help him sit up, stuffing all the pillows she could behind him when he was upright so he wouldn’t have to worry about spilling. The broth really did taste good, despite only being slightly warmer than room temperature. He found that if he only took small sips, and waited awhile between them he didn’t end up with his stomach wanting to revolt again. Maybe eventually he’d want a fat burger again, but for now this was enough.

He soon learned that he hadn’t woken up until after 10:00 am, but while that felt weird to hear he eventually realized there was nothing wrong with it. Apparently the others had been out all morning, Stephanie having come to get them since it was a holiday for her school. Not that her attendance was stellar anyway with all the mishaps she ended up in during the daytime, but it helped convince Bruce to let her carry on. She’d even managed to drag Dick and Barbara to join them. And that and the phonecall earlier led to Dick being the one to burst into the bedroom shortly after noon with the bags he’d promised over the phone.

“Head’s up!” Dick called as the only warning before he tossed a new t-shirt over Danny’s head.

“Dick!” Barbara scolded mildly, having only heard how Danny was doing and not completely sure he was up for being harassed.

To her surprise Danny just snorted. “It’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” he excused, pulling the t-shirt off his face and spreading it where he could see. While Dick grinned triumphantly at Barbara before turning to watch Danny expectantly, Danny quickly read the text on the shirt and promptly half choked on a snort. “HAHAHAHA H-,” he erupted with full on laughter, wheezing as he tried to vocalize the text. “I have - PFFFF HAHAHA - so many prob- HHHHH Jazz,” he howled and wheezed, turning the shirt so his sister could see the astronaut image surrounded by the text ‘Houston, I have so many problems’.

“Oh-.... Ohhhhh that’s great,” Jazz grimaced, giving a thumbs up as the content of the shirt was enough to dampen her own joy over seeing Danny laughing so openly. Considering his current situation, Danny probably thought it was rather fitting.

“I’m so upset we were right that he would love that,” Sam grumbled with a shake of her head.

“I think it’s great,” Danielle chimed in, though not laughing quite as much as Danny since she’d already seen everything.

“Of course you do,” Tucker sighed.

“I have more!” Dick took that as a chance to continue, plopping on the bed and digging out another shirt to pass over to Danny.

“Oh no, I’m leaving. Have fun,” Tucker groaned, quickly heading out the door partially to get away from what he had a feeling was going to be a terrible session of puns and bad jokes, and partially to take care of his own haul. Sam was quick to follow his lead, dragging Danielle after them so she didn’t skip out on helping.

As Danny excitedly held up the next shirt another honk laugh escaped him, though not quite as uproarious as the first. “HA! Just need space. Classic,” he complimented, lowering the shirt to his lap and looking up at Dick again to see if he had more.

“This was the last shirt they had, but if you want more puns after I have plenty to give,” Dick complied, handing the final printed shirt over to Danny.

It took Danny a second to realize the graphic of the earth was suggested to be spinning, staring at the conversation between the characterized moon and their own planet. The moon was asking what the earth was doing, and the earth responded ‘Making everyone’s day’, and as soon as the joke clicked in Danny’s head he was almost crying with laughter again. He didn’t even notice Stephanie joyfully recording both of them.

“Give me what else you have,” Danny requested after getting his breath back, reaching out to tug on Dick’s arm. It felt good to laugh. Even if it hurt his ribs, hurt the still healing burns on his chest, it felt good to just sit and laugh about something stupid. He didn’t want to give it up just yet, and it seemed Dick had actually planned for this in the past few hours after learning Danny loved puns too.

“Alright, get comfy ‘cause I have got a real gemstore to show you,” Dick agreed eagerly, squirming up onto the bed next to Danny and getting comfortable as well where they could both look at his phone. He had a folder saved just for collecting his favorites.

Danny was quick to settle into place wedged against Dick’s side, quickly reading and giggling or outright barking more laughter as they flipped through the saved images of jokes ranging from ‘I’m more confused than a chameleon in a bag of skittles’ to ‘astronomers got tired of waiting for the sun to go down, so they decided to call it a day’. Throughout the scrolling and varying degrees of laughter at the jokes, Danny even added some of his own that he remembered after seeing some of the others.

Eventually their session was interrupted by Damian pausing at the doorway, getting their attention with a light knock.

“Pennyworth would like to know if you would prefer supper in the study once more,” the youngest Wayne informed, and waited for the response.

“Who…?” was what Danny ended up responding with, having not heard people’s last names yet.

“Alfred. Damian calls everyone by their last names,” Dick thankfully supplied, earning a small noise of understanding from Danny. It wasn’t hard to tell the hours and hours of jokes had worn him out, but he seemed quite content so Dick didn’t feel bad. “You’ve upgraded to the couch already though? Hell yeah.”

The comment made Danny snort again, though he also had to grimace at Dick incredulously. “What kind of lifestyle do you people live?” he asked before giving a quick answer to Damian. “Here is fine for today. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Your recovery is of utmost importance to those in this household. If supper in bed will facilitate that, then it is of no consequence to anything else,” Damian responded easily, giving them a nod before leaving to report back to Alfred.

“Eh. We’ve had our fair share of injuries through the years,” Dick admitted to Danny’s question, lifting a finger to tap the small bandage on his own forehead once. “Enough that a knife wound is more like a papercut,” he half joked.

Danny snickered at the response, but wasn’t sure how he really felt about it. Was it really a good thing to be so used to being hurt that they seemed to have started making a game out of things relating to it? Maybe it was just something so inevitable for people like them, that they’d just had to make the most of it in the best way they knew how.

“Does it…,” Danny found himself speaking before he’d fully committed to the question in his mind. He had half the thought to retract his half voiced question, but opted instead to complete it. “Does it ever get to be too much?”

The question made Dick recognize a little more about what state of mind Danny was in, and his brows furrowed in concern before he eventually brought the smile back. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when you get all these meta humans and aliens involved. But… it’s too hard to stop.”

For a moment Danny had forgotten that the others, aside from Duke, didn’t have any special abilities that weren’t common for a regular human. It must be very stressful for them to have to deal with people like him that ended up rogue. But also, hearing someone else admit that they too, sometimes, only kept going because it was too hard for them to stop brought Danny a strange kind of bitter comfort. Maybe they were just all doomed together.

But, even if they were, at least he had company.

“...Thanks,” Danny chose to respond, relaxing a little more heavily into the pillows. The laughter had felt good, but the exhaustion and aches didn’t. “For all the jokes. I loved them.”

Dick could only grin fondly, reaching out to ruffle Danny’s hair after sitting upright. “No problem, kid. Anytime you need some more, just let me know.”

“Does that mean I can have your number after I get my phone back?”

Dick could only snort, having not expected that question. “Sure. We’ll figure something out for the whole interdimensional communication thing. I’m sure someone has already figured it out,” he chuckled, scooting to the edge of the bed to get ready to join the others at dinner.

Danny could only hum in acknowledgement, content with that answer, and let Dick leave to get his own food. Having someone to appreciate good jokes with was something to look forward to at least.

____________________

Iiiii struggled a lil with this one too =3= But there were some notes I needed to be mentioned before getting too far along.

Thank you for whoever sent me some puns though XDD they really helped. I love puns, but I'm terrible at coming up with any or even remembering them.

____________________

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@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

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#my art #long post #writing #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #phantom rogues #fanfic

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the-winter-spider · 18 hours ago

Text

Invisible | Part Six

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU .... eventually lol

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Idiots, angst, Buckys dumb for like no reason at all. Poor steve :(

A/N: Okay im uploading part 7 directly after this cuz yall were patient when i said i was uploading part 6 last night and never did lmao, also the next two are just kinda build ups bucky and reader gonna have some words.........

Masterpost

----

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks at Steve and Sam, who are both waiting, wide-eyed. “Do you remember that party at John Walker’s house? It was a couple of years after you dropped out, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes narrow, thinking back. “Yeah, I only heard about it because Wanda said it got messy. And Steve… you were the one who became the keg stand champion, right?”

Steve smirks at the memory. “Yeah, that was one for the books. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

Bucky looks down, his voice soft, almost reverent. “That night… something happened between us. We’d been drinking, and one thing led to another. We, uh, we…. slept together.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Steve’s eyes go wide, and Sam’s jaw drops. Finally, Steve manages, “Holy crap, Buck. You two just… jumped from being best friends to that?”

Bucky nods, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember. And that night… it felt like everything. I thought maybe… maybe it meant the same to her.” His face darkens, his voice dropping. “But when I woke up the next morning, she was gone. Just… vanished. Didn’t say a word. And after that, she wouldn’t even meet my eyes for weeks.”

Sam shakes his head, completely floored. “So you’re telling us that you two had this whole moment… and then she just left?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, still looking down. “I thought maybe she was spooked, it was a lot, so I gave her some space but…” He trails off sighing, “Maybe she regretted it, or felt ashamed. Hell, I even started to think she was disgusted with herself for… being with me.”

Steve rubs his forehead, staring at Bucky with a mix of disbelief and pity. “So you’ve just… never talked about it? Not once?”

“No,” Bucky says with a bitter laugh. “She wouldn’t, and I wasn’t gonna force her to. I figured if she wanted to pretend it never happened, then that’s what we’d do, yknow id do anything for her”

Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Buck, everyone’s known she’s been in love with you since forever. She probably thought you saw it as a drunken mistake.”

Bucky stares at him, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“Your reputation in college, at least when I was there” Sam says bluntly. “She probably thought she was just another notch on your belt. Especially if she’d heard any of those rumours.”

Bucky looks between them, realisation dawning as he mutters, “She knew those were just rumours, were best friends, she knows me better than that, right? She had to have known they were just rumours.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “How was she supposed to know, Buck? Everyone around campus talked about you like you were this heartbreaker, this guy who couldn’t be tied down. Best friend Bucky and relationship you are two different Bucky’s to her… can you blame her for thinking that night didn’t mean anything to you?”

Bucky stares at the floor, his expression twisted with guilt and frustration. “I just… I thought she’d know I’d never do that to her. That she was different, of course she is different it's her, she has to know that!” He clenches his fists. “I thought she was the one regretting it.”

Sam lets out a sigh, leaning forward. “So let me get this straight. You both spent years walking on eggshells, thinking the other didn’t care, and you’re both probably miserable because of it.”

Bucky shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “It just felt safer to leave it alone. I thought it was better to have her in my life as my best friend than risk losing her altogether. I’d rather have had some of her than none at all.”

Steve shakes his head, a small, sad smile on his face. “You two have been dancing around each other all this time. It’s like you’ve been playing some drawn-out, painful game of cat and mouse.”

Bucky laughs, but it’s hollow. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Bucky looks up, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes. “I don’t know. I thought I’d missed my chance. But… if she still feels the same, if there’s even a part of her that still cares…”

Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Then it’s worth fighting for, Buck. Don’t let another night slip by without her knowing how you feel, you’ve wasted enough time already”

Bucky’s face hardens with resolve, determination mingling with the lingering fear in his eyes. “You’re right. I have to tell her. I just hope… I hope it’s not too late. You’re a good friend, Steve. Thanks for this.”

Steve musters a small, bittersweet smile. “Of course, Buck. Anything for you.”

Inside, though, a quiet ache flares—a familiar, constant ache he’s learned to bury deep down. Unrequited love is painful enough, but what gnaws at Steve isn’t just his own longing. It’s the years he’s spent watching the two people he cares about most teeter on the edge of something real, only to pull back time and again. He’s seen Bucky’s yearning masked as indifference, her stolen glances that went unnoticed, and all the missed moments that could have been… if only one of them had been brave enough.

To Steve, there’s a nobility in his silence—a duty to let them find happiness, even if it’s not with him. It would be easy to resent Bucky for hurting you, for treating your feelings like a burden. But Steve can’t bring himself to feel anything other than empathy. Bucky’s been as lost as you have, caught in a battle he’s too proud or too scared to admit.

He knows, deep down, that his own feelings don’t matter here. What matters is that they have a chance, a real chance, at the happiness he’s always wanted for you, even if its not with him. And if he has to carry his love quietly, if he has to keep his own heartache in check for them, then that’s what he’ll do.

“Go tell her, Buck,” Steve says quietly, the weight of unspoken words heavy in his voice. “And don’t waste a single moment. You both deserve to know the truth.”

Bucky meets his gaze, nodding with a unsure but trusting smile. He has no idea of the sacrifice Steve is making in this moment, Steve watches him, swallowing the longing and sadness that’s always there but will never be voiced. In his own way, he’s choosing love too—a selfless love that finds peace in seeing her happiness, even if it’s not

with him.

Sam glanced at Bucky, his brow furrowing. “Hold on a second, what about Kate?”

Bucky’s face falls at Sam’s question, the name he’s been trying not to think about suddenly hitting him like a weight in his chest. Kate. Sweet, caring, loyal Kate, who had seen the best in him when he couldn’t see it himself, who had been there quietly beside him, hoping he’d come around.

He hesitates, avoiding his friends’ eyes as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I… I don’t know. Kate deserves the truth too. I thought maybe she was what I needed to finally… to finally move on.” He sighs, the regret heavy in his voice. “But that was just me lying to myself. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

Sam nods, a hint of sympathy in his expression. “Kate’s a good person, Buck. She doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s second choice.”

Bucky looks down, guilt clawing at him. “I know. And I hate that I’ve made her one. She should be with someone who’s all in… and that’s not me. It’s not fair to her.”

Steve studies Bucky’s face, understanding but also concerned. “So, you’re going to talk to her?”

Bucky nods slowly. “Yeah. She deserves to know. I need to be honest with her before I can… before I can even think about anything else.”

Steve claps a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Good. She deserves that much.”

That afternoon, Bucky texts Kate, asking if they can meet up. His heart pounds as he waits for her reply, the thought of ending things with her weighing heavily on his mind. She responds quickly, suggesting they meet at the same little coffee shop from the day before, and he heads there with a mix of dread and resignation.

When he arrives, Kate is already seated at their usual table, a soft smile brightening her face when she sees him. It makes the ache in his chest deepen—he knows that after today, that smile will probably disappear, and he’ll be the one responsible for it.

“Hey,” she says, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “You sounded serious in your text. Everything okay?”

Bucky nods, though the heaviness in his gaze betrays him. “Yeah, I… I just needed to talk to you about something. Something I haven’t been fair about.”

Kate’s smile fades slightly, a hint of concern clouding her expression. “What is it?”

He opens his mouth to explain, but the words get stuck, the weight of everything catching up to him. “Kate… I don’t know how to say this. You deserve so much more than I’ve been giving you. I haven’t been fair to you. I haven’t… I haven’t been fully here.”

Kate’s face softens as she reaches out, gently placing her hand over his. “Bucky, I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I know you’re… complicated. But I’m here because I want to be. Because I care about you, whether you’re all in or not.”

He shakes his head, guilt gnawing at him. “You deserve better than ‘complicated,’ Kate. I thought I could be the guy you deserve, but I just… I can’t be.”

She watches him for a long moment, and then her voice drops, quiet but sure. “Bucky, I knew what I was getting into when I fell for you. I know you’re still figuring things out, and I can be patient. I can wait if that’s what you need.”

Her words stop him in his tracks. There’s an unflinching loyalty in her eyes, a warmth and steadiness that he’s never fully appreciated until now. She doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch, and the weight of her gaze makes his chest tighten.

“Kate, I…” he starts, but she squeezes his hand, stopping him.

“Look, Bucky, I know there are things you haven’t told me, things you don’t think I understand. But I’ve seen the way you look at me, and I think… I think we could really have something if you let us.” Her voice trembles slightly, but she holds his gaze, her own eyes filled with a quiet determination.

For a moment, he’s silent, trying to process what she’s offering him. Kate’s hope, her patience, her willingness to wait for him—it’s more than he deserves, more than he ever thought he’d find with anyone. And he realizes, with a pang, that he can’t bring himself to end things with her today. Not with the sincerity in her voice, the openness in her gaze.

After a long moment, he forces himself to nod. “Thank you, Kate. For… for everything…”

She smiles, a relieved smile that makes him feel even worse, but he doesn’t have the heart to say anything more. The truth—the messy, painful truth—will have to wait. For now, he’ll accept her patience, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

---

You sit back on Natasha’s bed, letting out a long sigh, the wine making you feel just the tiniest bit lightheaded as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I can’t go home,” you mutter. “Bucky’s over at Steve and Sam’s tonight but, when he comes home, I… I just can’t face him right now. Not after everything.”

Natasha gives you a soft smile. “Of course, you can stay here. You’re always welcome.”

Wanda chimes in, wrapping an arm around you. “We’ll have a proper girls’ night. Forget about all that for now.”

You smile, feeling a wave of relief. As you settle back, Natasha glances over at you with a knowing look. “So… what about Dean?”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Oh, God. I completely forgot about Dean.”

Natasha grins. “I can text him, say you got cold feet or something?”

You shake your head. “No, just… leave it. Honestly, with everything that’s happened… I don’t know. I keep thinking… what if Bucky doesn’t feel that way anymore? What if all of that—what I thought we shared—meant nothing to him?”

Natasha sighs, squeezing your hand. “Look, whatever you decide to do, I’m here. I’ve always got your back, babe.”

She pauses, giving you a smirk. “But you know… we’d choose you in the divorce, right?”

You let out a laugh, grabbing a pillow and swatting her with it. “There will be no choosing! And no divorcing! Bucky and I… we’ve been friends since we were five. I don’t know what I’d do if he… if he really was out of my life for good.”

Natasha’s gaze softens. “Then don’t let him be. You’re braver than you think. Just… be honest with him. You might be surprised by what he has to say.”

You fall quiet, her words lingering, filling you with equal parts hope and dread as you lay back, trying to gather the courage for whatever comes next.

The sun is bright, and the streets are bustling as you and Natasha stroll through the city, bags in hand and laughter spilling between you as you move from shop to shop. It feels like old times, light and easy, and after last night’s heart-to-heart, you’re almost… hopeful.

You’re telling Natasha about the cute little coffee shop you spotted around the corner when, out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a familiar head of tousled hair. You stop mid-sentence, freezing as you take in the scene just a few yards away: Bucky, hand in hand with Kate, both of them laughing, utterly absorbed in each other.

Your stomach sinks. You watch, feeling your heart twist as Bucky leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his smile wide and unguarded in a way you’d never been able to see up close until now. He looks… happy. Truly, genuinely happy.

Natasha’s gaze follows yours, her face tightening with sympathy as she watches you take in the scene. “You okay?” she asks softly, though you can tell from her tone that she already knows the answer.

You tear your eyes away, blinking quickly to clear the sting in your eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s… let’s just keep going.”

Natasha squeezes your arm, and the two of you turn, heading back down the sidewalk. But as you walk, a hollow feeling settles in your chest, everything from the night before swirling in your mind—the confessions, the memories, the what-ifs. And now… this.

By the time you reach the next shop, you’ve already made up your mind. Bucky Barnes doesn’t think you’re worth it, and that’s that. Whatever you felt, whatever might have been between you in the past, it’s all in your head.

You glance over at Natasha, forcing a smile. “You know what? Let’s just forget about Friday. I’m not gonna… I don’t want to dwell on it anymore. He’s happy. I’m happy for him. I think… I think it’s time to just move on.”

Natasha studies you, a trace of concern in her eyes, but she nods, letting it go for now. “Okay. We’ll let it go. But… if you ever want to talk, you know I’m here.”

You nod, grateful. And just like that, you tuck the memories away, pushing everything—Friday night, college, all of it—back into a box in your mind.

After a long day of shopping, you and Natasha are finally heading back. She raises an eyebrow at the bags in your hands. “You know, you’re welcome to crash at mine again tonight if you don’t feel like facing him.”

You shake your head, trying to laugh it off. “Nah, I’ve got some work I need to finish up on my computer. Plus, I already paid rent for the month, and you know better than anyone how ridiculous rent is in New York. Can’t avoid him forever, right?”

Natasha gives you a look but doesn’t push it. “Well, you know where I am if you change your mind.”

You thank her and give her a quick hug before parting ways, gathering every ounce of courage as you head home. But when you open the door to your apartment, your heart sinks: Bucky’s there, sitting on the couch—with Kate. She’s nestled beside him, looking as comfortable as if she lives there.

As soon as you step in, Bucky’s eyes shoot to yours, and the intensity in them nearly stops you in your tracks. You can read him too well, even now. In those blue eyes, you see a mix of emotions flickering back and forth—regret, sadness, something that almost looks like relief—but you have no idea which is for you and which might be for Kate.

Kate is the first to break the silence, greeting you with a friendly smile. “Hey! How are you? Did you have a good weekend?”

You put on your best casual smile, keeping your gaze mostly on her and avoiding Bucky’s searching eyes. “Yeah, it was nice. Just got a little shopping done with Nat.” You hold up your bags, laughing softly. “Guess I went a little overboard.”

Kate laughs, glancing at the bags. “Looks like you did some damage! Special occasion or just a treat-yourself kind of day?”

You hesitate, then, glancing between the two of them. “Well, I’ve got a date on Saturday,” you say lightly, shrugging. “Needed something nice.”

“Oh!” Kate’s face lights up. “Natasha mentioned that on Friday. I’m so happy for you!” She’s smiling warmly, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze piercing right into you, as if he’s trying to read something hidden just beneath the surface. He doesn’t say a word.

You force yourself to look away from him, meeting Kate’s eyes. “Thanks,” you say, giving her a polite nod. “Anyway, I should go put all this away.”

“Sure thing!” Kate laughs again. “Hey, if i dont see you before then, good luck on your date—he’s a lucky guy.”

You manage a smile, your heart twisting in ways you don’t want to acknowledge. “Thanks, Kate. You two have a good night.”

As you turn to head to your room, Bucky finally speaks up, his voice a little rough. “You don’t have to go, you know. You can hang out with us.”

You pause, turning just enough to look at him, this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to him and the words that come out cut your throat, you shake your head. “No, I’m okay James….thanks, though.”

And with that, you disappear into your room, shutting the door softly behind you. Only then do you release the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes as you try to settle your racing heart.

----

The week passed in a fog of work and silence, each day dragging as you went through the motions with an ache in your chest that you couldn’t shake. It felt surreal to be in the same office as Bucky, the silence between you heavy and stifling. The two of you used to share everything—your worries, victories, and endless conversations. Now, there was a chasm between you, one neither of you seemed willing to bridge. Each day stretched endlessly, and this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him in as long as you could remember.

At first, you tried to keep things normal, focusing on your work, staying in your lane. But the tension between you was like a third person in the room, and it made everything feel unsteady. You couldn’t help stealing glances at him, watching the way he laughed with the others, though even that sounded hollow. You missed the easy camaraderie, the inside jokes, and the playful banter. Now, every moment felt loaded, thick with unsaid words and unspoken longing.

By Wednesday night, you were drained—emotionally and physically exhausted. You’d promised yourself you’d join the group for Wing Wednesday, but as the day wore on, a familiar dread settled in your stomach. The thought of sitting across from Bucky, acting like everything was fine, felt impossible. So, you stayed home, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, wishing you could shake the emptiness that clung to you.

The next evening, desperate to clear your mind, you found yourself at the grocery store. You wandered the aisles, filling your cart with essentials, hoping the routine task would offer a brief escape. You were reaching for a can on the top shelf when a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey! You’re alive!”

You turned to see Steve approaching, a wide grin lighting up his face. He pulled his cart up next to yours, his eyes warm with that steady kindness that always made you feel a bit lighter.

“Yeah, just barely,” you replied with a faint smile. “It’s been… a rough week.”

“We missed you at Wing Wednesday,” he said, his tone light but laced with concern.

You sighed, biting your lip. “Yeah, I just… wasn’t feeling up to it.”

Without asking, he reached over and took a couple of your bags from the cart, lifting them effortlessly. “Let me help you with these.”

You walked beside him, the weight of your bags lightened by his presence. The chill of the evening air hit your face as you stepped outside, a reminder that life was still moving around you, even as you felt stuck.

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He glanced over, his expression growing serious. “Hey… don’t push the rest of us away. Don’t push me away because of Bucky and his nonsense.”

A sad laugh escaped you, more bitter than you meant it to be. “I’m not trying to, Steve. It’s just… hard. It’s been hard for so long, and… I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

Unshed tears blurred your vision, and you looked down, trying to keep them at bay.

Steve’s expression softened, his voice gentle. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You furrowed your brow, glancing up at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

For a moment, he seemed to weigh his words, as if deciding how much to reveal. Finally, he sighed, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “I’ve been in love with someone too… someone who I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

You felt your heart race, wondering who he could mean. You’d always thought of Steve as your steady friend, the one who was always there. A name popped into your head—Natasha, maybe? She was magnetic, effortlessly commanding any room she walked into.

“Who?” you asked softly, not wanting to pry but unable to help yourself.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place, before glancing away as you approached your apartment door. Ignoring your question, he murmured, “There’s a difference, though.”

“What difference?”

He paused, then looked back at you, a weight of unspoken words in his gaze. “Yours… isn’t unrequited like you think it is.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. “What are you saying?”

Steve held your gaze, his voice firm but kind. “I mean, you don’t see how he feels about you. You’re letting your own doubts twist what’s really there. You think he doesn’t want you, but I can tell you he does.” He reached up, gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

You swallowed, your heart racing. “Steve, I—”

He raised a hand, gently stopping you. “Just think about it, okay? Don’t shut me out. I know you’re hurting, but… my life without you in it would feel empty.”

He offered a soft, bittersweet smile, and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to go, leaving you standing at your door, heart pounding and mind racing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes ff #james bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader

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aurorasulphur · 1 day ago

Note

As someone whose first election was the 2012 November General, thank you for this. It's hard to parse out what's a typical amount of progress and backsliding in your first couple of presidential cycles as a voter. And even now, looking back at Obama's second term, I only really remember the stuff that was contemporaneously referred to as a Big Deal. Windsor. Obergefell. The GOP refusal to confirm a replacement for Scalia.

Since 2016, there is so freaking much that has been wildly without precedent that it all muddles together.

But you're right. There are so many wins in my lifetime, where I remember the before and after.

You can stay on your parents' health insurance until you turn 26, even if you aren't in school.

Insurance covers the Birth Control Pill.

We have a vaccine for RSV.

Video calling is a regular thing now.

(Still rather buggy but) Consolidated patient health charts and electronic records are commonplace.

Virtual doctor visits are available to regular people.

A huge number of people (not enough, but some) had their student loan debt reduced because of Biden.

Solar power and wind power are getting cheaper and easier all the time.

Many states and communities offer WILD incentives to stick solar panels on your house and sell back the extra to the power company.

Car crashes are much more survivable than they used to be, because crumple zone and airbag technology improved.

Indoor smoking is banned in the vast majority of public spaces, so it is much easier to breathe in hotel rooms and restaurants.

Insulin pumps make it much safer and easier for diabetics to live their lives. (Particularly small children who may not notice they need to test their levels.)

Seatbelt laws have improved so much!

Same sex couples can get married in every state and are afforded the exact same legal protections as a m/f couple. Including inheritance law, workplace healthcare plans, and federal taxes.

Some states require that salary ranges be listed on all job postings now. AND that they are accurate.

Some massive improvements to FOIA over the years to make it easier to file a request and get an answer.

Airlines have to refund you, automatically, if your flight is more than 3 hours delayed, (and you don't take the alternative flights they offer) regardless of the reason. (Used to be they could claim weather as a copout for anything.)

Has anything actually gotten better, for all the work you talk about doing? Or is it just treading water in misery forever?

Anon, ten years ago gay people couldn't get married in large parts of the US. AIDS was an almost certain death sentence when I was in high school. I was looking at job boards the other day and found a part time gas station job that had health insurance as a benefit, which NEVER would have happened 15 years ago. When I was a kid, hitting your child was extremely normalized in the US and my parents were the weird ones for not doing it. There is a vaccine for chicken pox. I didn't meet anyone who had transitioned until my 20s because it was so uncommon to transition in the aughts, and now there are some states that protect your right to have gender affirming care provided by your health insurance. It's not all states, but it's better than the number of states that had it in 2010, which was zero. THERE ARE TENANTS UNIONS NOW. WE HAVE A VACCINE AGAINST CERVICAL CANCER.

And all of that has been the work of a lot of individuals and organizations and research teams and activists.

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amoressb · 18 hours ago

Text

𐙚 Hairclips

pairings : emo bf!niki x coquette!reader

synopsis : in which you saw you had some cute hairclips laying around and had the perfect idea to decorate your bfs hair in them

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅

You were walking around your dorm trying to find something to do. It was around 5 in the afternoon, you had a little snack and brought it to the couch in the living room.

Turning on the tv, it illuminated the small room as well as the two hairclips you left on the table. Suddenly you had an idea. Sprinting to your room, you find yourself looking for more clips and bingo! You found your drawer full of cute hairclips youve bought overtime and some your bf had gifted you.

That’s right. Niki. Your sweet loving bf.

You found it cute how he was basically the complete opposite of you. You loved all cute things and mostly stuffed animals. He on the other hand likes the complete opposite but that didn’t deter you from falling in love with him. Just then you look back at one of your plushies that remind you of him. Your badtz maru plushy. You had won it on a date you’ve recently went on with him and instantly fell in love with it as it reminded you of him. But back to the main thing here..hairclips.

You wanted him to come over quickly and what more of a perfect idea than to say that it was an emergency or that it was urgent that he come over. I mean technically you weren’t wrong..you missed him badly and you wanted to see him. So you grabbed your phone and sent the message to him.

A couple of minutes later, there was urgent knocks to your door and you ran to it knowing it was Niki. “What ha-“ was all Niki could say before he was dragged quickly to your room and sat down on the floor while you grab all the clips and sit on the bed. He was too tall to sit in the chair resulting in you having to be on your tippy toes.

“Can you tell me what-“ again he was silenced when you put your finger towards his lips smiling simply saying shhhh. You started by grabbing a pink bow of course and placed it on the side of his head clipping back his hair. You scooted back a bit and you were already in love with this idea. Immediately grabbing your phone you took a picture for memories of course and the bow was just too cute.

Many clips later, you reached the best clip of them all. Your badtz maru clip. He had been sitting there patiently waiting for you to finish. He realized a while ago that this is what was so ‘urgent’. The whole time he was admiring you and falling in love with your smile more and more as you keep adding more clips to his hair. He had his arms wrapped around your waist so you can be closer to him. He also ended up laying his head or his chin up on your lap as he was starting to slowly fall asleep to your soft touch and the cozy warm feeling he’s feeling being here with you.

Happily putting the special clip in his hair, you grabbed your phone once again to take a picture, letting you see that his eyes are closed which made it all the more cute. This was gonna be your new wallpaper for a lonng time. “I’m done my love” you say softly to him. “So this is what was so urgent huh” he sleepily chuckles. You smile as his sleepiness and softly lift his head up in your hands and melt seeing him lean into your touch. “I’m sorry it took so long” you say feeling bad that he had been stuck here for a while in the same position cuz you had that many clips. He smiled saying he didn’t mind and he was just happy to be with you.

You will say the contrast between him and the clips made it all the more perfect. He was wearing black plaid pajama pants with a black long sleeve so the pop of so much color on him with your hair clips really was perfect.

“The things i let you do to me” he says as he cuddles up to you wrapping his arms around your waist after having to sit longer just to take the clips off. You giggle into his chest and look up at him. You both looked into each others eyes not realizing you both are slowly leaning into each other. He lands a sweet kiss on your lips pulling back shortly after smiling down at you. “Goodnight y/n, i love you” he says kissing your forehead. “Goodnight Niki, i love you too” you say cuddling closer into his chest. You both fall asleep with a smile on your faces.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #ni ki fluff #ni ki #ni ki imagines #ni ki scenarios #enha #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha scenarios #ni ki enha #amoressb #first post

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petew21-blog · 1 day ago

Text

An apple a day...

21st January 2021

Dr. Mikhail Varshavski, or how many people know him - Doctor Mike, is a famous succesful physician and an influencer making money out of his YouTube videos etc. Still taking a bit of his time to examine patients between his videos and interviews.

But today an elderly patient was suppse to come for a visit. Mikhail decided to make it a tv spot where the satisfied patient would come to the hospital and thanked him for treating him.

The patient's name was Arnold Jefferson, a 71 year old man suffering many conditions, such as diabetes, arthritis, hypertension and many many more. Quite common in older people.

Mr. Jefferson arrived an unaware of the upcoming spotilight was greeted by am assistant and led to a room with cameras.

Mr. Jefferson:"I was supposed to come for a vistit with Dr. Varshavski."

Assistant:"Doctor Mike wants to speak to you in front of the camera if that's ok? I am sure you have already signed multiple forms considering your privacy, while in his care. So we won't keep you long and I will go get doctor Mike."

Mr. Jefferson looked around confused. He came for a one on one dialogue, not an interview. He had no interest in all of this.

Docotr Mike arrived to the room. His hair ready, wearing his best scrubs that were ironed that day.

Mikhail:"Good morning, Mr. Jefferson. How are we feeling today?"

Mr. Jefferson:"Good morning. I.. well just as I normally do." he spoke nervously, looking at the cameras and the crew.

Mikhail spoke loudly for the microphone above them to hear and smiled way more than usual. "Amazing. We will do a standard check up and then we will take a look at your blood tests together. Is that ok?"

Mr. Jefferson nodded and was then examined in front of the camera. But they also did many photos where they were wearing masks and touched each other with elbows just to prove how safe they were while handling the ongoing pandemic.

He felt uncomfortable. "Could I please be examined alone for the part where I get to undress?"

The smile from doctor Mike's face disappeared. "Sure. Yeah. Can all of you from the crew go and take 5? Thank you. We will finish with Mr. Jefferson quickly.

The crew left and Dr. Mike was left alone with the patient.

Mr. Jefferson:"You complicated things for me, you know? I would have done this much sooner."

Doctor Mike had his stethoscope in his ears listening to Mr. Jefferson's heart. "What do you mean by that?" he said confused by what the patient said.

Mr. Jefferson placed his hands on Dr. Mike's head. "This". Flashes of lights shined between the two of them. Mikhail wanted to run away, but the force from Mr. Jefferson's hands was so strong. He couldn't let go.

Mikhail's eyes closed by themselves. He didn't see anything.

The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was his reflection. Nothing unusual. He saw his face everyday in the mirror. But he felt anxious as soon as his body started moving on his own and flexed.

His body spoke out loud:"Oh my. It feels great to be this young again. It seems you take a great care for your body, Mikhail. Or I should say Arnold now."

Mikhail was in disbelief. What was happening? Is this all real?. "What did you do to me?"

Arnold:"I didn't hear that question for a very long time now. It will be easier to show you." he handed him the mirror. In the reflection was the same old man that he trested seconds ago. He touched his face and the reflection did the same.

Mikhail:"How are you doing this?"

Arnold:"Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I am honestly not sure."

Mikhail:"Why me? I am a doctor. I am not someone you should steal life away from."

Arnold:"You almost answered your question. If I don't have the right to do that then why should you? Remember my wife you treated? How you misdiagnosed her?"

Mikhail:"This is medicine. Mistakes can happen. It's not an exact science. Sometimes we don't have the power to save everyone."

Arnold:"Maybe. But my wife was special, like me, you know. We did the same thing I just did for you for almost a century. But we fell in love with the life that these bodies had. The love they had for each other, the family. We even had a new young couple found to move over to, but you just had to fuck it up. So... let my face be a constant reminder of what you messed up."

Mikhail:"You can't do this. No one will believe you. Everyone will find out. I will tell them."

Arnold:"Yeah, not really my concern. Whenever one of you does this, they end up in a mental hospital. So I guess it's up to you now, if you want to finish the shooting quietly or get a quick ticket for mental hospital for the short rest of your life you have left. So what's it gonna be?"

They finished the spot and Mikhail in Arnold's body was escorted out of the hospital. He was old now. His body ached. Every step he took was like a needle. He was picked up by one of his family members. He had no idea who it was. His son? Grandson? Maybe they'll know more about the swapping. Maybe the clues will be inside the house. Or maybe none at all.

18th February 2021

Mikhail sat in his new arm chair and held a mug in his hands. It has been almost a month since he lost his body.

One of his grandsons played with a tablet next to him.

Mikhail:"What are you doing there, Joe?"

Joe:"You wouldn't understand, grandpa."

Mikhail:"Maybe I would. How about you show me?"

Joe gave him initial instructions he would normally give Arnold, but Mikhail already knew all of this and confidently asked for him to put up YouTube.

Joe was surprised that his grandpa now knew all this, but he did what grandpa asked him to do.

They found Doctor Mike's channel. There was only one new video from the last time that Mikhail has posted anything.

The video had a bad quality. The one who edited the video was definitely an amateur.

The name of the video was: Why I decided to quit medicine

Mikhail froze. His life was all about being in the medical field. And now Arnold ruined it all.

He played the video. Arnold seemed very happy with his new body, because he kept touching his arms, his pecs and hair even while talking about how unsatisfied he became while working as a doctor.

Mikhail took the tablet and searched for more information about his old body. He found information about a lawsuit for malpractice, that the new doctor Mike how faced.

But something kuch worse caught his attention. An Only Fans account.

Mikhail left the room with the tablet and his grandson screaming behind him. But he didn't care about that now. He opened the page and immediately subscribed while entering his credit card info.

The page unlocked.

Mikhail had tears in his eyes. There were videos of his old body pleasuring himself, embarassing himself, pleasuring others...

All of that for a bit of money from horny peopl, that wanted to see the famous doctor.

Mikhail decided to send a message that cost extra money.

He sat there for a while and thought about what it would say.

"Dear, doctor Mike. Or maybe you still remember your old name, Arnold. I wanted to say something mean about you ruining my life. But after watching the videos, I have to say I miss my body. Even though I would want it back I don't expect you'd give it like that for free. But maybe you could let me enjoy that body once again from someone else's view? What do you think? It might get a lot of views.

Sincerley,

Dr. Mike Arnold Jefferson"

On the other side of the screen sat Arnold in front of the computer, his dick hard. Reading the message from his old body.

"This might be interesting" he said, grinning mischievously.

Two woman called out behind him from the bed:"Coming to bed, honey?"

Arnold smiled and turned around. "Ready for round three?"

Anonymous request from inbox

Could you please write a body swap story where an elderly patient steals Dr. Mike’s body when he is seen by him for a visit?

#body swap #body switch #male body swap #body swapping #celebrity body swap #body swap story #M2m body swap #Old to young body swap #Young to old body swap

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mercy-burning · 1 day ago

Text

A Weekend In Paradise (Summer of Sin Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: A couples' weekend vacation with Y/N, her fake boyfriend, her mom, and her real boyfriend, who also happens to be her mom's boyfriend... What could possibly be more relaxing? Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, cheating, female masturbation, kinda non-con (previously mentioned masturbation is happening while an unaware party is asleep in the same bed), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, omorashi/piss kink, daddy kink, "little girl" nickname, car sex, grinding, brief handjob, praise, biting/marking. (This one is pure fucking filth, y'all, buckle UP LMAO) Word Count: 7k

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know summer is literally over and we're all in autumn mode, but better late than never, right? ANYWAY, it's been an absolute pleasure re-reading this series and finishing it out with more shenanigans. These two and their messy asses are always so much fun to write, and I think about them all the time. In the timeline, this chapter takes place between parts 2 and 3 of “Your Favorite” if you want to put it in sequence with the other parts :) Have fun, and thank you for being patient with me. I hope this was worth the wait!

**********

FRIDAY

The only thing warmer than the blazing sun above me, the only thing that could burn me to the greatest extent until I was nothing but a pile of ash, is the way Spencer is staring at me right now.

Mom is reading a book quietly, laying her legs over his lap as they lounge on the loveseat, and Andrew is with me on the patio, rubbing sunscreen on my limbs. Even though we're far enough apart so no one can hear any conversation from the other party, the unspoken jealousy radiating from both Spencer and I is loud enough to drown out an entire concert venue.

Maybe it's cruel, and I'll probably catch shit for it later, but I can't stop smiling. It's easy for me to imagine that it's his hands gliding over my skin while I'm staring directly at him, and he's returning said stare with so much intensity that it might as well be magically willing my bathing suit to come off. Andrew's deft fingers tease the thin string at the edge of my hip and I laugh, playfully reaching back to swat at his hand.

"They're right inside, you know..."

He gets up to look, but still feeling Spencer's red-hot gaze, I quickly turn Andrew around and kiss him deeply, cradling his face in my hands and pressing into him with a laugh.

He pulls away just enough to speak. "Well, then let's go somewhere they aren't..."

"Mmm... Might be too obvious. He's smart, he'll know something's up if we're quick to run off."

"If you're quick to run off, you mean..."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an innocent bystander..." Andrew leans in and pecks my mouth sweetly, his voice just as gentle when he speaks. "Your only goal this weekend is to taunt him, and he knows it." Another peck. "If you run off with me this easily, you figure he'll be onto our little scheme." And another. "But if you play it right and act all inconvenienced by my... urgency..." Another kiss, this one a bit longer and definitely more sensual. "He might just feel bad enough to make it up to you later."

"You think?"

"I don't actually know. Probably." He reaches for my hands and helps me off the lounge swing, and I feel wobbly. "But what I do know is that you think too much. That man wants you so bad, he's going to find a way to spend time alone with you this weekend, whether we're making out in front of him or not. Just... Loosen up. Have a little fun."

The two of us are attached at the hip as we sneak out of eyesight from the patio screen door, and from Mom and Spencer.

"Loosen up? Do you realize how serious this situation is, Andy? One wrong move and my life is over."

"Look. I'm not judging you, and it's none of my business. But you put yourself in this situation on your own. And I'm happy to help you out, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

He's not wrong. I could stop this at any point, and I could've from the start if I wanted to... But I don't want to, and that's just it. I've dug the hole, and if it means getting to spend time alone with Spencer for even the smallest amount of time, I'd gladly lay down and die in it.

So. 'Loosen up and have a little fun' it is.

I take a deep breath and smile up at Andrew, patting him on the shoulder. "Yes. I can do that."

———

"I can't do it."

"Mmmmm, you and I both know that isn't true. You've come much faster under more stressful circumstances. Should be easy for you."

He's not wrong, yet I can't help but frown at Spencer's request anyway. I've been in a shitty mood all day, despite my discussion with Andrew earlier on. It's nearing nightfall, and with hardly any attention from the person I wanted it from, to say I'm now desperate is a severe understatement. There's still some time left until the two of us can properly sneak away, but even so, we have a moment alone and all he wants is to watch me get myself off in the bathroom upstairs while Mom and Andrew set the table out on the porch for a small, late dinner.

"Yeah, but you usually help me with that..."

Spencer only grins at my whining, tilting his head as he stands at the sink with his arms crossed, watching my hand at work. "If you're going to flaunt your boyfriend at me all weekend, then you're going to deal with the consequences."

"You're fucking my mom, Spencer, and you flaunt it at me every fucking day of my life... Cut me some slack."

"Aw. You're grumpy."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, don't you?"

I huff and get up off the edge of the bathtub, flipping my skirt back down and shaking my head. "You know what, forget it. If you wanna be difficult, then you can suck my dick."

"I'm not giving you what you want until I watch you come."

"Whatever."

I breeze past him and shut the door, hoping he'll follow and pull me into a bedroom and just fuck me anyway, but deep down I know he won't. He's a man of his word. It's simultaneously the best and worst thing about him.

The rest of the evening passes by slowly, which only sours my mood even more every time I look at my phone and realize that only a few minutes have passed.

I'd thought at least maybe Spencer would ease up and take the role of "Eve's Loving and Devoted Boyfriend" to the bare minimum, however that's promptly not the case. I don't know if he's doing it to piss me off and get me to cave, or if he's just over my bullshit and being his genuine, caring self to the woman he's in a relationship with... Either way, I practically feel my insides boiling over and my face burning red. I'm jealous, I'm grumpy as he so eloquently put it, and I'm so sexually frustrated that I'm seriously considering just running off to my bedroom and pulling out a vibrator, Spencer be damned. Fuck his rules, fuck his 'consequences', and fuck this whole damned weekend straight to hell.

My eyes wander to the lounge swing where Spencer and Mom are almost falling asleep, her head resting on his shoulder, and an inordinately evil image etches itself into my brain. Evil might sound harsh, but it's truly the only accurate word I could use to describe the feeling as it runs its course through my bloodstream. And when the breeze picks up and cools me off, within a mere second I realize just how insane I'd be for even entertaining it.

Even as our two groups say our goodbyes for the night, and I recount the day's failure to Andrew just before he falls asleep, I'm still going back and forth.

Loosen up. Have a little fun.

The situation at hand is decidedly not fun.

That being said, the possible look on Spencer's face after I'd do what I'm thinking? Taking his rules and throwing them in his face? That sounds fun.

My mind is already made up by the time I reach their door, gently pushing it open and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, which isn't terribly bad to start with. There is a giant open floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the beach, and subsequently the moonlight reflects off the water and into the bedroom. It's still dark, but not enough to where I can't see where I'm going.

Each soft step I take sends my heart rate higher and higher until I reach my destination at Spencer's side of the bed. Call it what you want, but I figure it's damn lucky that he's facing towards the room and not towards my mom, otherwise waking him up would have been a much more difficult feat.

I brush strands of hair away from his forehead and then tap him gently on the nose. I almost think it won't work, but then he shakes his head and flutters open his eyes, and that's when my heart leaps straight out of my chest.

This just became real.

There's no going back now.

He's shocked to see me standing above him, obviously, and before he can say or do anything, I put a finger to his mouth and imitate a shh with my own.

I wait for his eyesight to adjust and for him to realize what my intentions are, and right before it happens, my finger lifts from his mouth and rests on his bare chest as I balance myself, lifting my right leg to the pillow, right next to his head.

There's a deep, concerned warning in his eyes, but it dissolves the second he glances down to see that under my thin silk nightdress there's no tangible barrier between himself and my slick cunt. Even if the darkness prevents him from getting the best look, it's not a secret what I'm doing. My right hand drapes down as I start to touch myself gently, and fortunately it doesn't take long to start feeling that familiar sharp ache of desire pulsing through my lower half. Spencer's wide eyes and heavy breathing tacked on to the sheer danger I'm putting myself in to do this have made me wet in an instant.

I force myself not to think about the sleeping woman next to him and instead keep my eyes locked with his. It feels almost like a dream, like if I get distracted and lose his gaze then I will be doomed to lose it for good, and no matter how hard I try to remember it when I wake, it will be nothing but a distant feeling. The stakes right now have quite literally never been higher.

Now, there are a lot of things I'm not proud of. Helping my mom's boyfriend cheat on her is probably the biggest offender for obvious reasons. But as I've learned, sometimes those things end up being totally worth it.

Faking an orgasm also happens to be one of those things.

It's risky, I know. Spencer is the smartest person I know. It's not a stretch to believe that he could call my bluff. I also happen to be unfortunately seasoned in the art of faking orgasms (thankfully due to my time seeing men before sleeping with Spencer). The determination I have to get him to fuck me before this first night of our vacation is over is the cherry on top of my evil scheme.

So, I rock my hips into my hand, lock eyes with Spencer, and fake the fuck out of it. And thankfully, faking being quiet in this particular situation is ten times easier than faking being loud. It's a fool-proof plan.

I barely 'finish' before Spencer grabs my wrist and softly sits up in the bed. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, because his face doesn't even twitch. It almost looks like he's angry, but I have a hard time believing he would be. It could also be the concoction of desperation and anxiety coursing through my nervous system making me make that up. Either way, I know I'm going to find out very soon.

Spencer gets out of bed quietly, dragging me behind him. He shuts the bedroom door with barely any sound, and it's impressive considering he'd just woken up a few minutes ago. I suppose though, a man on a mission is a man on a mission no matter how drowsy; The moment we're down the stairs and out the back door to the porch, he's backing me up to the table where we'd eaten dinner, my legs nearly buckling before he lifts me up and sets me down on top of it.

"You're insane," he whispers, closing the gap between us just a millisecond after.

I welcome his kiss and melt into him, snaking my arms over his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his waist. He tilts his head hungrily, deepening the kiss, and I can't help but groan at the inclusion of his tongue.

"Insanely irresistible," I finally counter back when we part for air.

He kisses me again, quickly, adding, "Insanely bratty," and then he reaches down to touch the heat between my legs. I've gone long enough without it that I involuntarily drop my head back with a sigh of relief at his touch, breathing out, "Fuck, I need you..."

I half-expected him to keep bantering with me, but instead he leans forward and latches onto my neck, surely leaving hickeys behind as his fingers work inside me. It feels good, but it's not enough. I need more.

More...

I hadn't even realized I'd been breathlessly chanting the word into the air until Spencer groans and removes himself from me to pull his lounge pants down far enough to free his erection and slide into me with ease. He swallows my moan with his mouth, holding himself inside me and kissing me so deeply I can barely breathe. The cool night air sends a blanket of chills over my limbs, and for a moment in time, it's just me, him, and the ocean crashing beside us.

It's almost like we become a part of it, wave after wave of pleasure and relief passing through us with each harsh crash of water over sand. Skin against skin, tongue over lip and tooth.

We could have been out there for hours, and I wouldn't have known any different. All I know for sure is that it's me and Spencer. Just as it should be.

Even after we both reach our end, we remain still in our embrace, my limbs weak but still wrapped around him. Safe. He strokes the back of my head and kisses me lazily, drawing out every last ounce of happiness from my body and soul until he pulls away finally and I remember where we are. The situation at hand. How horrible I feel at what I'd just done in front of my sleeping mother.

God, you are so fucked up...

"You're right. I'm insane."

Spencer tenses at my words, then sighs. "I'm not any better."

"I don't know how I'm going to get through this," I confess. "I wish it was just me and you. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know, Y/N..."

He doesn't say anything after that, and I don't either. Part of me wants him to reassure me that everything will be okay, but the rational part of me knows deep down that I don't deserve it. Also that it probably wouldn't even work anyway.

I'm too far into this pit of hell for any kind of redemption, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

Which is why, when Spencer walks me up to my bedroom and gently kisses me goodnight after helping to clean me up, I simply slink away to bed and will myself to sleep, feeling completely numb despite getting exactly what I wanted.

SATURDAY

"Pancakes are done!"

I feel miles better than I did yesterday, maybe because Spencer had padded into my room early this morning to uh... Pay me back for the stunt I pulled last night. I couldn't deny the smile on my face when I woke to his body standing over mine, palming himself through his pants as Andrew slept soundly next to me.

Rather than watch him though, I quietly sat up and lent him a helping hand.

And mouth.

Whatever negativity we'd encountered yesterday had magically vanished, and now I can't help but feel like it's going to be a good day.

It also helps that Andrew made pancakes and bacon.

"These look great, Andy," Mom compliments, sitting down at the head of the table. "Better than mine."

"Nonsense," I tell her. "Yours have confetti sprinkles."

"Yes, but they're always burnt." Spencer kisses the side of her head as he stands behind her, but his eyes are on me, an evil grin on his lips. "No offense, Dear."

I want to strangle him.

"Not all of us can be masters of the frying pan... But I try."

"You do great, Mom, don't listen to him. He may know everything, but he doesn't know everything."

He feigns hurt, putting a hand over his heart and pouting, and I can't help but smile. Mom does, too, and for a moment, it feels like we can all get along without complicated feelings and desires putting a damper on our weekend.

Andrew fixes up his plate last, and when he sits down next to me, his hand finds mine under the table, tapping my palm twice—our signal for "everything good?"

I tap his back, a confirmation that for right now, I'm okay.

Breakfast is enjoyable, and I don't know what the day will bring, but I don't have any panic or dread settling in my bones, and Spencer and I aren't staring daggers into the back of each others' heads, so until that point arises again I decide to stuff my mouth with food and just revel in the calm.

Mom perks up as we're finishing the last few bites of our plates. "There's a big flea market a few towns over today, I thought we could go check it out after breakfast. It's supposed to be a nice half-hour drive along the coast, and they've got live music and tons of food."

"Mmm, sounds great, Mom," I say through a bite of food, swallowing it before continuing. "Maybe on the way back we can stop somewhere and get stuff to finish the patio."

Grandma's beach house is nice, but it's old, which means the patio screens are littered with holes and other wear and tear. Part of the reason we'd decided to come here was to make it look nice and figure out what repairs need to be done before we help her sell it, and that patio needs... Well, it needs a little more than some new screen-doors, but that was the start.

Spencer nudges my foot under the table and speaks up. "I don't do so well in the car after I eat, so I can actually stay back and start working on getting the porch cleared out and take measurements for what you need if you want to go ahead without me."

"Oh, are you sure, Honey?" Mom grabs his hand. "We can wait a little to go if you want."

"Really, it's okay. It's a beautiful morning, you should take advantage of it. I'll take the other car and meet you there in an hour or two."

"Well, okay, if you're sure. I just feel bad leaving you behind..."

He nudges me under the table again.

"I can stay and help," I offer then, suddenly feeling my chest warm up from the inside at the opportunity. Then it's my turn to do the nudging. I tap Andrew's hand under the table and look at him. "I mean, you don't mind hanging out with my mom for a bit, do you?"

I'm so glad he's quick at catching on. And I will love him forever for what he's doing for me. I make a mental note to send him gift baskets for life when he nods and gives my mom his best smile. "I don't mind at all."

I turn to Mom. "Yeah, I'll call you when we've got everything handled and then Spencer and I can just meet you guys down there." I turn to him then, hoping to make it seem more like a natural development of a last-second plan rather than an evil scheme. "If you want the company, that is. I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

He smiles. "I don't mind the help at all, but it's totally up to you and your mom."

Mom practically fawns over her boyfriend and grabs his hand with a lovesick pout, which makes me feel really bad for what we're probably about to do the second she leaves. "No, I think it'll be good for you two to spend some time together. It makes me happy to see my two favorite people getting along."

"Then it's a perfect plan for me," Spencer beams at her, kissing the back of her hand.

———

We wait until we can't see the car anymore, until it's so far in the distance that we're positive we won't be seen. Spencer wants to wait longer in case Mom decides she forgot something and needs to come back, but I know that Andrew will text me if anything happens. Spencer is right here next to me, his hand steady on my lower back as he guides me through the house.

We're alone, not doing anything yet, and it feels like torture.

So on the way to the bedroom, I squeeze his hand and depart, hoping to kill some time—to ease his mind as well as my anxiety.

"I'm gonna pee quick and then you can have your way with me, yeah?"

Spencer reaches out for my hand again, pulling me to him and not letting me go, a glint of something mischievous in his eye. It shocks and excites me simultaneously. "But I want my way with you now."

His lips are on mine, and he's backing me into the wall, picture frames gently rattling in the hallway once my back is flush to the drywall. I melt into him with a laugh.

"We have time," I tell him between kisses, trying to get away. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"No," he grunts, kissing me again, deep and earnest.

I whine at the excitement that burns in the pit of my stomach, but I also do really have to pee. "Spencer, please."

"Hold it," he demands through gritted teeth, kissing my neck and then slotting his knee between my legs.

I clench instinctively, and I can't help but test the waters. "Or what?"

"Or I can tell your mother what a bad girl you were today. So unhelpful, wasting my time and giving me back-talk. She'll be so disappointed in you."

"Wow, Spence. Threatening me with my mother, how kind of you," I retort, even though his words are undoing me. I grind down on his leg and feel my bladder pulse with need. My teeth grit when he bites down on my shoulder.

"I'm a kind man."

"Kinda mean, maybe," I whimper.

"Not really. All you have to do is hold it, pretty girl. That's all I ask."

His knee lifts higher and I moan to the air. "Fuck. Spencer, I don't think I can."

"You will."

I have a brief moment of reprieve when he drops his leg, but it doesn't last long because he brings his hand down in its place, deft fingers slipping under the band of my shorts and toying with my clit.

"That's not fair," I sigh, weaving my fingers through his hair.

He smiles, nipping at my jaw. "Aw, poor thing."

His fingers are relentless, rotating between flicking at my clit and plunging into me and spreading me apart, and it's making it extremely difficult to do what he's asking. I feel an orgasm building rather quickly, but I can't quite tell if that's just because I'm so turned on, if it's my bladder, or both. My thighs are trembling and the pressure is getting tighter.

"Fuck, I— I can't... I'm g—onna..."

The orgasm rips through me beautifully, a brand new feeling that I have to sort-of subside to keep from completely letting go all over his hand, but I can't help it. My hips cant back and forth, and I feel my shorts warm a little as I come down, and suddenly I clench my legs together, whimpering and stopping myself from continuing. The pressure hasn't let up at all, and now it's even harder to hold back.

"I'm sorry... I'm... I'm still trying."

Spencer captures my mouth in a tender, teasing kiss as he coos, "I know... You're trying so hard." His fingers glide through me softly, and then they're gone and taking my bottoms with them. The fabric falls to the floor, and soon his pants are gone, too.

"Can you hold it a little longer, sweetheart?"

"I can try," I sigh out in one quick breath, looking down and already feeling overwhelmed at the sight of his erection.

I'm not going to last long.

Spencer turns me around and bends me at the waist, using one hand to wrap around me and rub my clit as the other guides himself into me from behind.

I yelp, then groan as he fucks me hard.

My face is pressed flat against the wall, and I try to focus on that feeling instead of this new angle and all the pressure it's putting on me. I'm clenching so hard, and Spencer is loving every second.

"God I love how tight you are, trying to be good for me..."

I want to tell him to stop talking, because his words always push me over the edge, but I have to focus so hard on nothing but this goddamn wall in front of me to keep from making a mess. And with each searing thrust he throws my way, that just becomes harder and harder.

He shifts a little and hits a particularly good spot, making me yell again as I relax and start to lose control— but only for a second. I still want to try, so I clench again and whine as I feel the warm liquid roll down my leg and the beautiful burn I'm feeling.

Spencer groans and goes harder then. He wants me to break, and honestly, it might not be long until I do.

"I know you want to, little girl," he tempts, sliding his hand up to press on my bladder. "Am I making it harder for you? Huh?"

If I could punch him, I would, but I'm afraid all I can do is beg him for release, the pressure almost too much. But because I still like to make things difficult and I'm not completely fucked dumb yet, I decide to add some flare.

"Please, Daddy, can I let go?" I whine, and he pauses with one of his own. I feel his hand slide off my stomach and weave through the roots of my hair instead, pulling me up to meet him.

He whispers hotly in my ear, "If you want to act like a greedy little slut, then by all means. Go right ahead..."

It's hard to tell what his intentions are after we move on from this position, but right now, I don't really care. Because no matter what consequences come with it, it's still permission all the same, and I'm not going to last much longer anyway.

"But I'm not going to keep fucking you through it. That's on you."

There it is.

So, what?

He stays inside me, hard and pulsing with need anyway, so I rock myself back and forth on him and reach down to rub my clit as I bring myself to the edge again. I keep trying to hold it until I'm ready to orgasm, and thankfully that doesn't seem to take very long.

Within seconds, I'm coming. I feel it all with a shout, letting my body tense and release, and Spencer grabs my hips to keep me from falling over. His blunt nails digging into my skin only add to the insane pleasure that courses through my body, and then the dam breaks not long after.

I let go in small spurts, still trying to have some control over how I do this, because I still want to drive him mad. So I turn my head and try to look at him, throwing his words in his face.

"I know you want to fuck me through it, Daddy... I'm still trying to hold it for you, so you can. Please..."

"Fuck," he hisses, giving up and pushing me to the wall again. He snaps his hips back and then forward, and it takes all I am not to scream at how good it feels.

This time I really let it all go, allowing myself to relax and revel in all the sensations coursing through me. Just like I wanted, Spencer fucks me through every second of it, until I have nothing else to give but mindless whimpers of over-stimulation and gratitude.

I don't even realize I'm coming again until my body jolts with the sensation, and then Spencer follows, running his hands along the backside of my body anywhere he can reach as he does.

Once we're both tired enough, he pulls out and gently turns me around to face him. I almost whine at the loss of his warmth, but he's pressing me to the wall again and kissing me before I can protest.

I don't know how long we stand there and make out, but eventually I shiver, feeling cold and... dirty. Don't get me wrong, I definitely don't regret it, because it was hot as fuck, but... Now? In this moment, after the fact?

I pull away from him and sigh. "You should have just let me go to the bathroom. Now we gotta clean this up."

Spencer ponders for a moment, looking down between us and then back up at me before shrugging with a shit-eating grin.

"I told you to hold it. Maybe you should work on listening to me."

I punch him in the arm, and he laughs.

"In your dreams, old man."

———

Evening comes in the blink of an eye, and I swear it's the happiest I've ever been. Sneaking out of the house like a teenager in love with someone she knows is fundamentally wrong for her is probably the most accurate way to describe what's happening, though Spencer is only wrong for me in a completely different way.

All the same, no matter the reason, he makes it hard to remember why.

It feels so good—so deliciously right—after all.

And how couldn't it; I'm absolutely elated, heart beating wildly as I race down the highway with the windows all the way down. Spencer squeezes my hand, trying to let loose, but I can tell he's utterly terrified by my speed. It makes me laugh.

When I finally pull over into a small clearing some miles down a random side-road and put the car in park, he sighs. "Where are we?"

"Dunno. But it's secluded. Moonlit. Romantic."

Each word that escapes me is punctuated with a kiss on each of his fingers.

"It's... Unsettling."

I can't help but laugh again, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing over to his lap. He shifts uncomfortably but helps me straddle him anyway, rolling the seat back as far as it can go as I tease him with neck kisses.

"Are you afraid of the dark, old man?"

He groans my name in warning when my teeth bite down on his shoulder. I know I can't mark him. It upsets me greatly, but I have to at least give myself a little taste.

So, when his hands tighten around my waist, I whine and settle for his lips. I kiss him eagerly, and by the way he's responding, any qualms about being in this "unsettling" location seem to have vanished. His hands roam my body reverently and eventually help guide my hips as they rock into him with desperate conviction.

I welcome his tongue with my own and thread my fingers through his hair, already feeling the heat of the summer air cling to my body as the air conditioning dissipates. The windows are already starting to fog.

Spencer notices my urgency and breaks apart with a hum of amusement. "What's the matter?"

"I want out of these damn clothes."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

I don't even have the energy to tease him back. He's giving me what I want with no obstacles other than the fabric between us, and I couldn't have asked for anything more.

It's a little difficult in such a cramped space, but eventually I am completely bare in front of him, save for my underwear. I've removed Spencer's shirt, but his slacks are still on, and I'm in the process of helping him out of them when he laughs again.

"What?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing... I'm just surprised you even wore any underwear to begin with. Surely you knew what was going to happen tonight..."

I roll my eyes, but my smile never wavers. "Do you or do you not remember how this whole thing started? You love my underwear, and you love taking them off of me... I did this for you."

In agreement, he tenderly slips his middle finger under the seam and pulls the fabric to the side, and I nearly whine as he looks me over, the corner of his bottom lip pinched gently between his teeth. He's so fucking hot it physically hurts me. It makes me pathetic.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he finally offers, dragging a careful finger through my seam. I gasp at the sensation and feel myself start to tremble when he gently flicks at my clit. It's so featherlight, barely a touch at all, but still enough to drive me mad.

I need him. Now.

"Anything for you," I breathe, lunging forward to kiss him again. He welcomes me with fire instead of the amusement I'd almost expected from him. Usually, it's a dig at my eagerness, but tonight he's just as eager, just as needy, and the equal reciprocation has me in shambles.

It doesn't take long to find my way to him. I've finally managed to free his erection from fabric confines, and instead of fully sitting on him, I slick him up with my arousal, grinding along the length of him as he leans his head back and curses to the air. The friction is low-simmering and beautiful, and nowhere near enough to get myself off, but that doesn't matter to me right now. It just feels so good, and seeing Spencer tensing and twitching beneath me, feeling his hands tighten over my breasts as I rock back and forth... Reveling in this tension before truly giving into our carnal desires is honestly just as good as the sex itself. If I could etch this feeling, this erotic slow-burn of a moment, into my soul for all eternity, to remember in vivid detail for as long as I was alive and breathing, I would.

I'm so wet, so hot with sweat and aching with desire for this man, I can barely stand it.

My hand reaches down between us and takes him in a firm grip. I stroke him slow and tight, to which Spencer hisses, forcing himself to look down as he shakes his head.

"Fuck, you're perfect..."

The genuine praise makes me tremble again, warmth flooding my bloodstream. I start to quicken my pace, but his hand reaches down to grab my wrist.

"We have to get out of this damned car."

Before I know what's happening, he's opening the door and exposing us to the open air. He leads me outside, then opens the back door and guides me to the back seat, laying me down on my back. I lean up on my elbow to watch as he towers over me, sliding his pants all the way down and watching me with hungry eyes.

I can't help the urge that overtakes me then, readjusting my underwear again so that I'm exposed to him. Ready. Still, no teasing from him about how ready I am. There is only fire burning behind his gaze and a determination to make me feel every single flame as it dances brightly over my skin.

I can tell just by looking at him right now, barely illuminated by the moon in the open sky above us, Spencer is going to absolutely ruin me.

He comes forward and reaches down, both hands tugging at my underwear until they literally tear at the seams. The sound is so jarring and unbelievably hot that feels almost pornographic. I've never been so turned on in my life. He knows it, too, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he tosses the tattered cotton away like it's nothing at all, then proceeds to adjust me to his liking, folding my knees up to my chest and giving himself the deepest angle he can possibly get.

"Ready?" he asks, that fire in his eyes telling me he already knows the answer.

"Always," I tell him, pulling him down to connect our lips.

He pushes into me then, a steady full movement that doesn't falter even once. I take it happily, humming into Spencer's mouth as he starts to move his hips. The car gently rocks underneath me, the smallest of creaks sounding under the upholstery. Between that and the snapping of his skin to mine, the crickets chirping in the background, and the thick, heavy whirring of our breathing being so close together in this small space, it truly does feel like the perfect summer night.

This is what summers are made for. Passion. Heat. Want. Wildfire. Pure sin...

That's what it is. Spencer's teeth leaving unashamed marks on my skin when I'm not allowed to return the favor as he fucks me in the backseat of my mom's old car, nothing around us but the moon, the stars, and the sweltering summer heat... There would be time for guilt later, when we return to the beach house, and possibly even along the drive there. But for now, I don't feel guilty. I'm completely aware of my surroundings, of my situation, and yet there's not an ounce of guilt to be found anywhere in this car.

That alone is the biggest sin of all.

SUNDAY MORNING / 2 A.M. / SPENCER

My limbs are barely awake when I shuffle down the hallway and sigh heavily at the sweet promise of a deep sleep. I feel tense, but I know that's only because I have to keep my departure a secret. I won't fully know peace until my head has hit the pillow and my consciousness has drifted away for the night.

Eve is an early riser. I won't get much sleep, but the few hours I will manage to round up will be worth it. And I'll go to sleep happy.

Y/N is still all over me, which is dangerous. Her aura, her smiles and her laughter, her sighs and her pleas, her fingernails trying not to leave marks on my back even thought it's all I want—All of it is such an enormous part of who I am now, that every second I'm in Eve's presence, I start to wonder if she can feel it. I hope not, but as a man who has proudly worn and reflected the attributes of every woman he's ever loved, it's a scary thought.

So scary, apparently, that it seems to have manifested a near-heart attack. I know I'm not actually having one, but the sharp pain I feel in my chest when I open the bedroom door and find Eve, awake and sitting in bed with a distant look in her eyes, for a split second, could have fooled me.

"You're up early," I say, closing the door and walking to my side of the bed. My heart is beating so fast, my nervous system working on overload to keep up with the amount of signals and sirens that are blaring in my brain.

Eve doesn't look at me, but responds somberly. "So are you."

How long has she been awake? "Yeah. Couldn't sleep. I wanted to take a drive..."

She hesitates for a moment as I climb into bed and nudge her leg with my own.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

No.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I worried you." I take her hand in mine, but she still can't look at me. It frightens me. "What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't know... Something just feels weird, and I don't know what or how to explain it."

"Like... With the house?" I feign confusion, easily disguising the fear that lies underneath, and it seems to work; Eve concedes.

"No," she sighs, turning to finally look at me. Her eyes are tired, and she looks like she's embarrassed. "I don't know... I've been getting this weird feeling lately, and then you disappeared for a couple hours tonight, and I guess I just..."

She trails off, and I sigh, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Eve... You know I love you, right?" They're the right words to say, but they feel evil coming out of my mouth. They're... I don't want to say they're not true, because in some way I still do love her. But... Not how she wants me to. Not how she loves me back.

"I know," she cries apologetically, falling her head onto my shoulder with a dramatic thump. It's a mannerism that reminds me so much of her daughter, I feel another sharp twist in my gut. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you," I comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand. "It's okay, I promise."

"No, it's not. It isn't fair for me to just assume you aren't happy in this relationship when you've done nothing to show otherwise, and then act all grumpy and accusatory. It wasn't right. I should have just talked to you about my... weirdness, and gotten it out of the way. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that," I tell her. I'm relieved that she still doesn't know the truth, but my heart is still racing and I can't seem to get those damn warning sirens to quiet in my head. "Still, I'm sorry for worrying you. I wasn't tired, and it seemed like a perfect night for a quiet, mindless drive."

"Mmm, you're right," Eve agrees, leaning into me and glancing out the window. She takes a deep breath and kisses my neck, right where her daughter had been only hours before. "Next time, invite me along?"

"You got it." It's an empty promise, but it makes her happy. It keeps her unassuming.

We fall asleep together, but my dreams belong to someone else.

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