Prue's POV - The Morning After

he: "he" him: "him" his: "his" baby: "" slut: "no" mc: "" eye: "light blue" food: "healthy" -- **The POV takes place immediately after the Soulmate Update ends in the public demo.** Please enter your name (capitalized) {text input for: 'mc'} What is your character’s gender? {link to: "maleMC", label: "A man."} {link to: "femMC", label: "A woman."}

**Enter your pet name for Prue (lowercase).** {text input for: 'baby'} **What color are your eyes?** {dropdown menu for: 'eye', choices: ['light blue', 'dark blue', 'grey', 'black', 'brown', 'hazel', 'light green', 'dark green']} **What kind of food do you prefer?** {dropdown menu for: 'food', choices: ['healthy', 'junk']} **Are you used to casual sex or hookups?** {dropdown menu for: 'slut', choices: ['yes', 'no']} {link to: "maleMCpov", label: "Begin."}

Something stirs her awake, forcing Prue to crack one eye open. The first gray light of dawn has already settled over the chilly room, and a second sharp ringtone reveals the culprit: {mc}'s phone. She needs a moment to blink away the morning blur before she reaches lazily for her own phone and checks the time. Only a few minutes past five. Too early to get up and hover around like a ghost, though if last night hadn't ended the way it did, she'd probably still be sleeping off one or two beers and the lingering buzz from Alex’s potent weed. Not that she’s complaining. Prue rolls onto her side, propping her head on one hand to watch the person sleeping peacefully beside her. {mc}’s so handsome, yet somehow, it’s totally unimportant, because what really gets to Prue… is something beneath all that. Something she can’t quite name. {link to: "maleprue", label: "So, so weird."}

Something stirs her awake, forcing Prue to crack one eye open. The first gray light of dawn has already settled over the chilly room, and a second sharp ringtone reveals the culprit: {mc}'s phone. She needs a moment to blink away the morning blur before she reaches lazily for her own phone and checks the time. Only a few minutes past five. Too early to get up and hover around like a ghost, though if last night hadn't ended the way it did, she'd probably still be sleeping off one or two beers and the lingering buzz from Alex’s potent weed. Not that she’s complaining. Prue rolls onto her side, propping her head on one hand to watch the person sleeping peacefully beside her. {mc}’s so beautiful, yet somehow, it’s totally unimportant, because what really gets to Prue… is something beneath all that. Something she can’t quite name. {link to: "femorue", label: "So, so weird."}

“What’s so amusing?” {mc} asks, his raspy voice brushing the corner of Prue’s mouth. “Nothing in particular. It just tickles,” she murmurs. “Oh? How about this?” The finger withdraws, and the tip of {mc}’s tongue takes its place, gliding along her upper lip. It tickles even more, but the sensation also sends a jolt of pleasure down her spine, making warmth pool low in her belly. She parts her lips in sweet anticipation, but the moment lingers as {mc}'s warmth recedes. Opening her eyes, she meets his gaze heavy with restraint. “{mc},” she whispers, licking her lower lip. The act bashfully deliberate, making her cheeks heat up. But he’s hesitant again when all she wants is his unfiltered passion. Last night was a delicious awakening, showing her that she could feel safe while still trembling with vulnerability, and leaving her even hungrier. She wants this again. With him. “Yeah,” he mutters, distracted by her lips. His hand hovers in the air, so close to Prue's racing heart beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. “Come here,” she offers, blushing all over, but {mc} just smiles tenderly, lying back down on his side and gently drawing her into his arms. He looks at her with burning affection while his fingers caress the skin of her neck. “I want to take my time with you, baby.” “We have time,” she pouts a bit, then huffs with embarrassment when his ringtone sounds again. “I need much more time than that,” {mc} murmurs against her lips. “I won’t rush this even if you make me crazy.” “You don’t look that crazed to me,” she complains, smirking, then gasps when he cups the curve of her bottom, his long fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her panties. “Need proof?” he purrs. “Yeah,” she breathes, draping an arm around his neck. “Very much so.” “Prue,” he growls. “Try to convince—” He cuts her off with a bruising kiss; she’s helpless to fully reciprocate. But it slowly melts into sensual strokes of his tongue as the frantic touch of his fingers softens into lazy traces over her hip and lower back. The urge to open her mind—to make this rippling pleasure even more intense—becomes almost unbearable. She does it, a little... eyes glazing over when the taste of {mc}’s arousal begins seeping into her senses. It rips a moan from her lips and makes her lock her legs around him, brushing against his hips. “Fuck, {baby},” {mc} whines, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “You’re such a bad girl.” “I know,” she gasps, shivering. “I’m trying to treat you right,” he adds with a breathless chuckle. “And you’re making it so fucking difficult… so difficult.” She giggles faintly, but the aftertaste of {mc}’s desire and her own mounting heat ignite a wave of pleasure that soon makes her groan. Until the sharp ringing of {mc}’s phone cuts through the moment, making the world tear at the edges. “Fuck.” {mc}’s whisper is no longer heavy with promise. It’s lower now, edged with annoyance, and when he gazes at Prue, his deep {eye} eyes shine with desperation. “I need to check what this is about." “It’s okay,” Prue mutters, shutting her eyes to try to ground herself a bit before the inevitable comedown. She feels {mc}’s shoulders tense before he crushes her against his chest in a tight embrace, then lets his arms drop to the mattress. The moment he pulls away, Prue feels the cold envelop her. {link to: "maleMCtour", label: "Next"}

{mc} scans the messages with a sigh, her shoulders sagging. The unwelcome implication of that beeping was clear from the start, yet Prue still let herself get carried away by the intoxicating feeling of being close to {mc} and now pays for it with a building headache. No regrets, though. She chews on her reddened bottom lip to stifle a smile, her body still responding with fading shivers. The persistent question gnawing at her mind: *When am I gonna see you again?* “I’m keeping your panties, by the way.” {mc} winks, rising to get dressed in yesterday’s clothes as a spark of heat passes between them. Prue’s face heats up. Her eyes linger on {mc}’s frame with an intensity she’s never directed at another person, both entranced and weirded out by being this unapologetically interested in someone else... Interested at all… It exposes an intriguing side of her, one she wasn’t aware of. “The tour…?” Prue snaps her gaze up, finding {mc} watching her with a harmless smirk. “What?” “I asked if you knew anything specific about the tour yet,” {mc} repeats, her brows arching. Prue needs a moment to answer, running her fingers through her curls, trying to slow her racing thoughts. But when the gears finally shift inside her mind, she can’t help but feel a different kind of warmth spreading through her chest. “It’s starting in two months,” she says with a jolt of excitement. “If everything goes as planned, I mean. There isn’t much we can say at this stage of the preparations, but it’s going well… at least that’s what they told Mick.” Prue just loves the prospect, the thrill of feeling every riff resonate through the audience, giving all she has in exchange for a pure wave of emotion, letting it all flow through her with a revitalizing force. It’s a sensation like nothing else, a high she’s already experienced, but never on such a scale. {link to: "femtour2", label: "It’s going to be something else entirely."}

{mc} scans the messages with a sigh, his shoulders sagging. The unwelcome implication of that beeping was clear from the start, yet Prue still let herself get carried away by the intoxicating feeling of being close to him and now pays for it with a building headache. No regrets, though. She chews on her reddened bottom lip to stifle a smile, her body still responding with fading shivers. The persistent question gnawing at her mind: *When am I gonna see you again?* {mc} rises to get dressed in yesterday’s clothes as Prue’s face heats up. Her eyes linger on his frame with an intensity she’s never directed at another person, both entranced and weirded out by being this unapologetically interested in someone else... Interested at all… It exposes an intriguing side of her, one she wasn’t aware of. “The tour…?” She snaps her gaze up, finding {mc} watching her with a harmless smirk. “What?” “I asked if you knew anything specific about the tour yet,” {mc} repeats, his brows arching. Prue needs a moment to answer, running her fingers through her curls, trying to slow her racing thoughts. But when the gears finally shift inside her mind, she can’t help but feel a different kind of warmth spreading through her chest. “It’s starting in two months,” she says with a jolt of excitement. “If everything goes as planned, I mean. There isn’t much we can say at this stage of the preparations, but it’s going well… at least that’s what they told Mick.” Prue just loves the prospect, the thrill of feeling every riff resonate through the audience, giving all she has in exchange for a pure wave of emotion, letting it all flow through her with a revitalizing force. It’s a sensation like nothing else, a high she’s already experienced, but never on such a scale. {link to: "maletour2", label: "It’s going to be something else entirely."}

“What’s so amusing?” {mc} asks, her raspy voice brushing the corner of Prue’s mouth. “Nothing in particular. It just tickles,” she murmurs. “Oh? How about this?” The finger withdraws, and the tip of {mc}’s tongue takes its place, gliding along Prue’s upper lip. It tickles even more, but the sensation also sends a jolt of pleasure down her spine, making warmth pool low in her belly. She raises her arms above her head, shifting her gaze to {mc}, who leans over her even more, whispering against her lips. “Does it tickle too?” “I’m not sure… you’ll have to do that again,” Prue whispers, licking her lower lip. The act bashfully deliberate, making her cheeks heat up. But it makes {mc} brighten up with a delighted smile. Last night was a delicious awakening, showing Prue that she could feel safe while still trembling with vulnerability, and leaving her even hungrier. She wants this again. With {mc}. “I like this attitude,” {mc} murmurs, twirling one of Prue’s curls around her delicate finger, then trailing it slowly down her neck, along her collarbones, pausing between Prue’s breasts. The touch burning through the thin cotton of her shirt. “Good to know.” Prue smiles, averting her eyes. She’s blushing all over because of how badly she needs to drink {mc} in, to taste her again. The thought almost forms into a sentence in her head… but it proves much harder to translate into the right words. “I just—Um—" Her answer is swallowed by {mc}’s tongue slipping past her lips. It starts slowly, with lazy, shallow strokes as their bodies draw closer. But it quickly flares up when Prue buries her hands in {mc}’s hair, melting into a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Her thighs fall open with a delicious warmth spreading through her lower belly. “That’s right, show me what you want,” {mc} whispers, tracing the wet trails along Prue’s neck and jaw, forcing her to drop her barriers—to make this rippling pleasure even more intense. She does it. Just a little… eyes glazing over when the taste of {mc}’s heat begins seeping into her senses. She moans breathlessly, wrapping her fingers around {mc}’s wrist and guiding her hand to where she needs it most. “Oh, my sweet thing.” {mc} chuckles softly. “You’re so wet already.” She begins a maddeningly slow descent along Prue’s yielding body, pupils blown wide with hunger, making Prue shiver with anticipation. But the sharp ringing of {mc}’s phone cuts through the moment, making the world tear at the edges. “Fuck.” {mc}’s whisper is no longer heavy with promise. It’s lower now, edged with annoyance, and when she gazes at Prue, her deep {eye} eyes shine with desperation. “I need to check what this is about.” “It’s okay,” Prue mutters, shutting her eyes to try to ground herself a bit before the inevitable comedown. She feels {mc}’s shoulders tense before she crushes Prue against her chest in a tight embrace, then lets her arms drop to the mattress. The moment {mc} pulls away, Prue feels the cold envelop her. {link to: "femMCtour", label: "Next"}

“I’m just worried I won’t make it until you return.” The words sound almost casual, but the implication slams into Prue like a freight train, making her widen her eyes in shock at this open admission of helplessness. It mirrors Prue's own, turning her eyes into glimmering pools of emotion too raw to contain. "Don't—Please, don't say that," she pleads, raising her hands, at a loss, motioning for {mc} to come closer, hug her... do anything to somehow ease this building dread. "Sorry, {baby}, I was joking," {mc} mutters into her neck, embracing her slightly shivering form, but it’s a lie they both choose to accept. "I'll miss you, though," he continues, caressing her back. "I'll miss this..." The gentle words grow heated while their embrace becomes more desperate. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "maleMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I think we’ll be fine.” Prue smiles gently, relieved that he sees this tour as nothing but a temporary separation, which will probably still put them both through the wringer. But it's not the Middle Ages, they’ll still be able to stay in touch. "I do hope for some extra live footage, though." {mc} grins, stepping closer the moment she does the same. "Sure thing." "I kind of like seeing you all sweaty and still pumped with adrenaline." "{mc}..." "What? I wouldn’t say that’s too much to ask if you're leaving me behind." "Are you guilt-tripping me?" she asks, a bit incredulous but soon they both chuckle, while the air between them grows heated. The relentless pull never weakens. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "maleMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“What better way to practice phone sex?” She parts her lips but quickly lowers her head, hiding her increasingly warm face. The fact that she's still flushed with embarrassment after everything they did last night is kind of irritating, but she can't seem to overcome her shyness anytime soon. "What? Nothing to say about that?" {mc} murmurs, stepping closer. "I'd say that I won't need much encouragement after seeing you all sweaty and pumped up with adrenaline." "{mc}..." "We can start small, you know," {mc} continues to torture her, drawing her into a loose embrace. "With a few hot messages..." Prue swallows hard, while her mind is instantly flooded with intrusive thoughts and images, making her even more flustered, but also... aroused. Their embrace becomes more desperate. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "maleMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I don’t like the prospect, but I’m happy for you.” {mc}'s voice sounds sad, but there's an unmistakable hint of fondness beneath it, causing Prue to smile with gratitude and wistfulness of her own. "You and music..." she falters, not sure if she should voice the truth about how inseparable the two remain in her heart. But {mc} seems to understand it, stepping closer and drawing her into a hug. “I’d never make you choose.” The words make her feel relieved, but the embrace reminds her how challenging it will be to stay away from {mc}, how desperate she becomes the moment their bodies press together. And {mc} senses her giddiness, her growing arousal as their embrace becomes tighter. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "maleMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I hate the thought of you being so far away from me." {mc}'s gaze darkens, fixing on Prue with the unapologetic weight of emotions so dense they feel almost viscous, sending a shiver down her spine. "I’d much rather keep you by my side." "{mc}." "What? That's the truth," {mc} murmurs, grabbing her hip to pull her closer. "I know it's inconvenient, but that's exactly how I feel. This bond messes with my head." The words sound harsh, almost like a complaint, but the air between them grows thick with the same hunger clouding {mc}'s eyes. She can't help but feel affected, stepping even closer, with arousal slowly seeping through her pores. The hues of their bond turning dark and shimmering, and in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "maleMCknocking", label: "Next"}

Prue’s barely kissed anyone before, having always avoided that truly intimate act, but kissing {mc} feels natural. It’s so intensely pleasurable that she must be doing it right—no experience needed when her body responds instinctively. Every wet stroke of {mc}’s tongue ripples through her nerves, stripping her of one conscious thought after another. And when they fall back on the mattress, with barely any space between their heated flesh, Prue’s mind goes blank… There’s nothing but hunger. Insatiable. Growing and growing beyond reason… until it gets violently shattered by another call. “I need to go, fuck…” {mc}’s voice sounds wrecked when he looks at her with barely contained frustration, his bright eyes heavy with promise. Then harsh knocking at the door joins the phone’s merciless ringing. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Prue closes her eyes when {mc} lets out a loud sigh against her shoulder, leaves one last burning kiss there, nips her skin quickly, then a little harder, as though it has just occurred to him that he could leave his mark… The knocking repeats. “Wait a fucking minute!” {mc} snaps, shooting an angry look toward the door. Any second now, she expects Mick to march in furiously, but only his strained voice comes through the door. “Kid, you good?” {mc} gives her an exasperated look as her cheeks burn with embarrassment at Mick treating her like a child… “Prue!” And of course, she has to play along with this humiliating routine, because otherwise the bassist won’t let it go. “I’m fine, man, go away!” She raises her voice, lacing it with just the right measure of annoyance. Then her stomach rumbles, and she feels even more embarrassed, while {mc} chuckles fondly, brushing a stray lock from her face. “Sorry for not thinking about breakfast.” “I should be the one taking care of it…” she says, her voice stripped of playfulness, because a lazy morning with all the time in the world still feels so distant, almost like a dream. {link to: "maleMCfood", label: "Next"}

Prue’s barely kissed anyone before, having always avoided that truly intimate act, but kissing {mc} feels natural. It’s so intensely pleasurable that she must be doing it right—no experience needed when her body responds instinctively. Every wet stroke of {mc}’s tongue ripples through her nerves, stripping her of one conscious thought after another. And when they fall back on the mattress, with barely any space between their heated flesh, Prue’s mind goes blank… There’s nothing but hunger. Insatiable. Growing and growing beyond reason… until it gets violently shattered by another call. “I need to go, fuck…” {mc}’s voice sounds wrecked when she looks at Prue with barely contained frustration, her bright eyes heavy with promise. Then harsh knocking at the door joins the phone’s merciless ringing. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Prue closes her eyes when {mc} lets out a loud sigh against her shoulder, leaves one last burning kiss there, nips Prue's skin quickly, then a little harder, as though it has just occurred to her that she could leave her mark… The knocking repeats. “Wait a fucking minute!” {mc} snaps, shooting an angry look toward the door. Any second now, Prue expects Mick to march in furiously, but only his strained voice comes through the door. “Kid, you good?” {mc} gives her an exasperated look as Prue's cheeks burn with embarrassment at Mick treating her like a child… “Prue!” And of course, she has to play along with this humiliating routine, because otherwise the bassist won’t let it go. “I’m fine, man, go away!” She raises her voice, lacing it with just the right measure of annoyance. Then her stomach rumbles, and she feels even more embarrassed, while {mc} chuckles fondly, brushing a stray lock from Prue’s face. “Sorry for not thinking about breakfast.” “I should be the one taking care of it…” Prue says, her voice stripped of playfulness, because a lazy morning with all the time in the world still feels so distant, almost like a dream. {link to: "femMCfood", label: "Next"}

[if food === "healthy"] “God, I wish I could cook you something,” {mc} murmurs softly, and Prue’s eyes light up as her heart swells with giddiness. “What do you like? Hm?” “I’m not very fond of meat, but other than that, anything goes,” she says casually, then remembers that she does, in fact, have preferences, and her expression doesn’t go unnoticed. “I suspect there’s more to it?” “Well…” “Come on, spill,” {mc} purrs. “I want to know everything about you.” He blinks just as Prue fixates on the awkward look on his face, because… it’s here again, this open fascination. They both share it. There’s no point denying. “Okay, fine,” she chuckles. “I love seafood, and sweet things like pancakes or anything with veggies except for Brussels sprouts.” She grimaces. “I really hate those.” The moment she looks at {mc}, her soulmate snorts, his expression affectionate. “I feel kind of pressured now…” “Shit, I’m totally fine with almost anything you make for me. I’m really not that picky.” “Um, I’m not convinced, {baby},” {mc} says with teasing skepticism. “You sound kind of high-maintenance when it comes to food.” His tone remains playful, so Prue stops trying to defend herself. “Well, I’m very considerate too, so I can definitely return the favor.” “Yeah? Will you cook for me too?” “Sure,” she says without blinking, omitting the truth that her entire cooking experience is limited to scrambled eggs, thanks to a mom who’s always spoiled her with home-cooked meals. [continue] [if food === "junk"] “I’m afraid I couldn’t offer you anything more than cereal or something from my stash of frozen food, but there’s always a fast-food place on the corner…” {mc} snorts, noticing Prue’s involuntary grimace. “What? Not a fan?” “I mean… a bakery would be better, I think.” “A bakery? I need a bit more than a plain roll to function.” Now it’s her turn to chuckle. “They usually sell sandwiches. Much better than frozen junk,” she says, rolling her eyes, then stares questioningly at {mc}’s amused expression. “What?” “I have a feeling you’re kinda picky about food…” “And if I am?” She raises an eyebrow in playful challenge. “Then I’ll gladly deal with that.” {mc} winks. “Well, fortunately for you, I can make our breakfasts,” she says without blinking, omitting the truth that her entire cooking experience is limited to scrambled eggs, thanks to a mom who’s always spoiled her with home-cooked meals. [continue] But it's not a problem, really. {link to: "malefood", label: "She’ll learn."}

[if food === "healthy"] “God, I wish I could cook you something,” {mc} murmurs softly, and Prue’s eyes light up as her heart swells with giddiness. “What do you like? Hm?” “I’m not very fond of meat, but other than that, anything goes,” Prue says casually, then remembers that she does, in fact, have preferences, and her expression doesn’t go unnoticed. “I suspect there’s more to it?” “Well…” “Come on, spill,” {mc} purrs. “I want to know everything about you.” She blinks just as Prue fixates on the awkward look on her face, because… it’s here again, this open fascination. They both share it. There’s no point denying. “Okay, fine,” Prue chuckles. “I love seafood, and sweet things like pancakes or anything with veggies except for Brussels sprouts.” She grimaces. “I really hate those.” The moment she looks at {mc}, her soulmate snorts, her expression affectionate. “I feel kind of pressured now…” “Shit, I’m totally fine with almost anything you make for me. I’m really not that picky.” “Um, I’m not convinced, {baby},” {mc} says with teasing skepticism. “You sound kind of high-maintenance when it comes to food.” Her tone remains playful, so Prue stops trying to defend herself. “Well, I’m very considerate too, so I can definitely return the favor.” “Yeah? Will you cook for me too?” “Sure,” Prue says without blinking, omitting the truth that her entire cooking experience is limited to scrambled eggs, thanks to a mom who’s always spoiled her with home-cooked meals. [continue] [if food === "junk"] “I’m afraid I couldn’t offer you anything more than cereal or something from my stash of frozen food, but there’s always a fast-food place on the corner…” {mc} snorts, noticing Prue’s involuntary grimace. “What? Not a fan?” “I mean… a bakery would be better, I think.” “A bakery? I need a bit more than a plain roll to function.” Now it’s Prue’s turn to chuckle. “They usually sell sandwiches. Much better than frozen junk,” she says, rolling her eyes, then stares questioningly at {mc}’s amused expression. “What?” “I have a feeling you’re kinda picky about food…” “And if I am?” Prue raises an eyebrow in playful challenge. “Then I’ll gladly deal with that.” {mc} winks. “Well, fortunately for you, I can make our breakfasts,” Prue says without blinking, omitting the truth that her entire cooking experience is limited to scrambled eggs, thanks to a mom who’s always spoiled her with home-cooked meals. [continue] But it's not a problem, really. {link to: "femfood", label: "She’ll learn."}

"Paul’s always been a pussy," {mc} says, shrugging, though the way his posture tenses indicates there’s more to it, years’ worth of hurt and resentment. An unimaginable situation messing everything up. Prue couldn’t even begin to understand, but things have changed for her lately and where once she would have looked at Paul with nothing but compassion, now she sees the danger, the source of the fracture slowly wearing {mc} down. It makes her resent Paul a bit too… and feel awful about it. “I hope he was respectful?” {mc} asks warily. “Yeah… just scared and lost,” Prue offers a weak smile. “I mean, who wouldn’t freak out in his shoes?” “I wouldn’t.” {mc} smirks, but his smugness is tinged with bitterness. “Anyway, I should probably message Paul to keep him from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” he asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” She grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, his surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” he barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. His exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," she sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "maleMCmick", label: "Next"}

"I feel kind of bad for him," {mc} admits, turning his face away as if that was something shameful. Prue finds this compassion exceptionally heartwarming. Who wouldn’t resent the person indirectly responsible for tearing his life apart? Yet {mc} remains surprisingly understanding toward Paul. She offers him a weak smile, touching his hand. “Anyway, I should probably message Paul to keep him from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” he asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” She grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, his surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” he barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. His exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," she sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "maleMCmick", label: "Next"}

“I can’t believe that asshole got to see you naked,” {mc} says tensely, clenching his jaw. “He was definitely more focused on freaking out,” she quickly assures him, but that moment with Paul was deeply uncomfortable and unwanted, making him the second man to see her completely naked. “Well, lucky for him.” “Who wouldn’t freak out in his shoes, right?” “I wouldn’t,” {mc} snaps, but his eyes are no longer darkened with annoyance. “Anyway, I should probably message Paul to keep him from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” he asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” She grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, his surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” he barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. His exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," she sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "maleMCmick", label: "Next"}

"He was respectful, I hope?" {mc} asks warily, but Prue offers a weak smile. “Yeah… just scared and lost, like anyone would in his shoes, right?” “I wouldn’t.” {mc} smirks, but his smugness is tinged with bitterness. “Anyway, I should probably message Paul to keep him from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” he asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” She grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, his surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” he barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. His exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," she sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "maleMCmick", label: "Next"}

"Paula’s always been a coward," {mc} says, shrugging, though the way her posture tenses indicates there’s more to it, years’ worth of hurt and resentment. An unimaginable situation messing everything up. Prue couldn’t even begin to understand, but things have changed for her lately and where once she would have looked at Paula with nothing but compassion, now she sees the danger, the source of the fracture slowly wearing {mc} down. It makes her resent Paula a bit too… and feel awful about it. “I hope she was respectful?” {mc} asks warily. “Yeah… just scared and lost,” Prue offers a weak smile. “I mean, who wouldn’t freak out in her shoes?” “I wouldn’t.” {mc} smirks, but her smugness is tinged with bitterness. “Anyway, I should probably message Paula to keep her from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” she asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” Prue grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, her surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” she barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. Her exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," Prue sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "femMCmick", label: "Next"}

"I feel kind of bad for her," {mc} admits, turning her face away as if that was something shameful. Prue finds this compassion exceptionally heartwarming. Who wouldn’t resent the person indirectly responsible for tearing her life apart? Yet {mc} remains surprisingly understanding toward Paula. Prue offers her a weak smile, touching her hand. “Anyway, I should probably message Paula to keep her from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” she asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” Prue grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, her surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” she barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. Her exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," Prue sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "femMCmick", label: "Next"}

"I can’t believe she got to see you naked," {mc} says tensely, clenching her jaw. “Is she—” Prue falters, feeling slightly uncomfortable, even more when {mc} focuses on her tingling face. “Into girls?” {mc}'s expression darkens even more. “Should I take this as a yes?” “Yeah, though she's head over heels for her hot assistant who will grow old before she makes a move.” “That’s kind of cute,” Prue says half-jokingly, causing {mc} to stare at her with hilarious disbelief. “What?” “There’s nothing CUTE about Paula,” {mc} says curtly. “Anyway, I should probably message Paula to keep her from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” she asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” Prue grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, her surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” she barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. Her exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," Prue sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "femMCmick", label: "Next"}

"She was respectful, I hope?" {mc} asks warily, but Prue offers a weak smile. “Yeah… just scared and lost, like anyone would in her shoes, right?” “I wouldn’t.” {mc} smirks, but her smugness is tinged with bitterness. “Anyway, I should probably message Paula to keep her from doing anything stupid,” {mc} mutters, pecking Prue on the lips. “We’ll be in touch, yeah?” she asks with a hint of hesitation as if it were even debatable. “You know it.” Prue grins, and for a moment they just look at each other with a touch of goofy warmth. Then {mc} opens the door and falters, her surprised expression quickly turning into annoyance. “Wait a fucking minute,” she barks at someone, almost certainly Mick, then shuts the door in the bassist's face. Her exasperated gaze shifts to Prue. "You should put something on, {baby}. The guy looks determined to give a speech." "Of course he does," Prue sighs, looking around for her jeans, before she starts pulling them on. The weight of {mc}'s gaze makes her feel both self-conscious and strangely attractive, a very new feeling among the vast spectrum of emotions {mc} has already made her experience. When she's fully dressed, {mc} gives her one last yearning look before disappearing behind the door. {link to: "femMCmick", label: "Next"}

The moment his footsteps fade away, Mick peeks into the room. An upgrade from last time, when he simply barged in, stumbling across something rather difficult to unsee. His relieved eyes meet Prue’s exasperated gaze. “How nice of you to finally put something on.” “Seriously? You’re the one complaining?” she snaps, referring to Mick’s pretty loose definition of basic decency. “Oh, shut it,” the bassist barks back, marching straight to the window to crack it open. “It fucking stinks in here.” “I bet not even half as bad as downstairs.” Prue grins meanly but gets up anyway, ready to help with cleaning the house. Taking her mind off {mc} is exactly what she needs right now. “Let me just find my headphones, and I’ll give you a hand with the mess.” But Mick just stands there, looking slightly constipated, making Prue roll her eyes in growing frustration. “What?” Mick glances out the window, then closes it, choosing privacy over airing out the room. “That guy…” “{mc},” she says pointedly, looking at Mick in a way that should discourage the bassist from digging any further. But of course, Mick can’t help his incurable nosiness or his overprotective streak toward Prue. It’s always been like that, yet now, more than ever, it’s starting to annoy her, exposing how objectively terrible she’s been at setting boundaries. And still is, though this time around, {mc}’s the only one Prue’s willing to let close. “That guy is trouble,” Mick declares with a grim expression that makes her shoot him a warning glare. {link to: "maleMCmickcd", label: "I don’t want to talk about it."}

The moment {mc}'s footsteps fade away, Mick peeks into the room. An upgrade from last time, when he simply barged in, stumbling across something rather difficult to unsee. His relieved eyes meet Prue’s exasperated gaze. “How nice of you to finally put something on.” “Seriously? You’re the one complaining?” she snaps, referring to Mick’s pretty loose definition of basic decency. “Oh, shut it,” the bassist barks back, marching straight to the window to crack it open. “It fucking stinks in here.” “I bet not even half as bad as downstairs.” Prue grins meanly but gets up anyway, ready to help with cleaning the house. Taking her mind off {mc} is exactly what she needs right now. “Let me just find my headphones, and I’ll give you a hand with the mess.” But Mick just stands there, looking slightly constipated, making her roll her eyes in growing frustration. “What?” Mick glances out the window, then closes it, choosing privacy over airing out the room. “That woman…” “{mc},” Prue says pointedly, looking at Mick in a way that should discourage the bassist from digging any further. But of course, Mick can’t help his incurable nosiness or his overprotective streak toward her. It’s always been like that, yet now, more than ever, it’s starting to annoy Prue, exposing how objectively terrible she’s been at setting boundaries. And still is, though this time around, {mc}’s the only one Prue’s willing to let close. “That woman is trouble,” Mick declares with a grim expression that makes Prue shoot him a warning glare. {link to: "femMCmickcd", label: "I don’t want to talk about it."}

The house remains in total disarray, and Prue makes a mental note to do her share of the cleaning, but then she bumps into two unfamiliar girls picking up trash from the corridor. “Um, hi,” she mutters, her head lowered, weaving between the trash bags. “Hi,” they answer almost simultaneously, before one of them, a girl with braided hair, adds, “Are you planning any more unplugged performances like last night? It’d make this boring fucking job much more fun.” “Uh, I’ll help you in a minute,” Prue calls over her shoulder, feeling her face heat up. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen, by the way,” the same girl offers with a smile. “And sandwiches. Though Alex wolfed down most of them.” “Thanks for the heads-up.” Prue forces a smile, knowing she won’t be able to stomach anything right now. But with her head turned, she crashes into Pam, Alex’s girlfriend, in the kitchen doorway. Pam bursts into laughter at Prue's expression. "What the fuck, cutie? You look like you're on a bad trip." She grabs Prue's arm with a hint of concern even though her tone remains amused. “I’m good—” “Just running away from the mother hen’s cringey lecture.” Alex butts in, catching Prue’s eye over his girlfriend’s head. “Leave her be.” "It's not like I'm messing with her," Pam snaps, though without much bite, giving Prue’s shoulder a friendly pat. Then she brushes past her, heading toward the girls. “Help’s on the way, my ladies…” Prue doesn’t register their response at all, far too busy ducking behind the kitchen counter. {link to: "ending", label: "Next"}

“I don’t want to talk about it.” “Hear me out. It’s not just my gut feeling, okay? Or the fact that she’s obviously kind of rough around the edges. It’s more serious than that…” Prue closes her eyes, sighing, because she doesn’t want to talk about {mc}… This is the part of Prue's life that belongs entirely to her, nobody else’s business… But Mick takes her behavior as surrender, an admission that there’s something difficult to discuss. “That one guy at the party told me some pretty disturbing stuff yesterday…” Prue tenses, a nasty shiver rolling down her spine, because of course it would have been better if {mc}'s secrets hadn’t come out at the party—or if she hadn’t come at all—even though the mere fact that she did makes Prue's knees go weak. Because it meant something… made everything irreversible. “Did you hear anything I said?” Mick barks, shooting her an irritated look. “Something about some guy…” “Yeah, who came to me, claiming that a fucking criminal was walking around my house, or, more precisely, heading upstairs with my guitarist.” Prue's not the best liar, but she knows how to evade questions. “People say a lot of weird stuff, Mick.” “Yeah,” the bassist says, then adds with a deadpan expression, “Nope. The girl has an in-your-face shady vibe. So please stop making me sound unreasonable.” Mick radiates deep concern, and that makes it so freaking difficult to be angry with him, but Prue tries anyway. “It’s one guy’s word.” “It’s really fucking convincing, Prue. Your friend’s demeanor makes the claim very difficult to dismiss.” “She’s not my friend,” Prue snaps, her tone fiery, slightly surprised by her own conviction, and Mick’s widened stare indicates she's not the only one. It forces Prue to hide her heated face behind her bangs just to regain some semblance of control over her expression. “Are you fucking serious?” Mick hisses. “You barely know this woman.” “Like you know a whole lot about all those girls you invite to move in after one good fuck.” “That’s fucking different!” Mick raises his voice. “I’m never serious about them.” “Well, not everyone is a dick,” Prue mutters venomously, not usually this confrontational, but Mick has her cornered, striking at something heavier than words she can usually bind into lyrics. Something that scares her, thrills her, and makes her finally feel alive instead of merely sleepwalking through life with music as her anchor. {link to: "femsus", label: "It’s addictive, yes, but it’s also sustaining."}

“I don’t want to talk about it.” “Hear me out. It’s not just my gut feeling, okay? Or the fact that he’s obviously an asshole. It’s more serious than that…” Prue closes her eyes, sighing, because she doesn’t want to talk about {mc}… This is the part of her life that belongs entirely to her, nobody else’s business… But Mick takes her behavior as surrender, an admission that there’s something difficult to discuss. “That one guy at the party told me some pretty disturbing stuff yesterday…” Prue tenses, a nasty shiver rolling down her spine, because of course it would have been better if {mc}'s secrets hadn’t come out at the party—or if he hadn’t come at all—even though the mere fact that he did makes Prue's knees go weak. Because it meant something… made everything irreversible. “Did you hear anything I said?” Mick barks, shooting her an irritated look. “Something about some guy…” “Yeah, who came to me, claiming that a fucking criminal was walking around my house, or, more precisely, heading upstairs with my guitarist.” Prue's not the best liar, but she knows how to evade questions. “People say a lot of weird stuff, Mick.” “Yeah,” the bassist says, then adds with a deadpan expression, “Nope. Your guy has an in-your-face shady vibe. So please stop making me sound unreasonable.” Mick radiates deep concern, and that makes it so freaking difficult to be angry with him, but Prue tries anyway. “It’s one guy’s word.” “It’s really fucking convincing, girl. Your friend’s demeanor makes the claim very difficult to dismiss.” “He’s not my friend,” she snaps, her tone fiery, slightly surprised by her own conviction, and Mick’s widened stare indicates she isn’t the only one. It forces Prue to hide her heated face behind her bangs just to regain some semblance of control over her expression. “Are you fucking serious?” Mick hisses. “You barely know this guy.” “Like you know a whole lot about all those girls you invite to move in after one good fuck.” “That’s fucking different!” Mick raises his voice. “I’m never serious about them.” “Well, not everyone is a dick,” she mutters venomously, not usually this confrontational, but Mick has her cornered, striking at something heavier than words she can usually bind into lyrics. Something that scares her, thrills her, and makes her finally feel alive instead of merely sleepwalking through life with music as her anchor. {link to: "malesus", label: "It’s addictive, yes, but it’s also sustaining."}

“I see you don’t agree with me,” Mick mutters grumpily, shaking his head as though he has any right to judge. “It’s none of your business,” she says, folding her arms because the whole thing starts to feel seriously invasive and Mick just doesn’t know when to stop. [if slut === "yes"] “Then what about him fucking everything that moves?” “I can’t believe this.” Prue throws up her hands in helpless frustration. “Do you have a list or something?” “Not my fucking fault your guy is popular for all the wrong reasons.” “Since when do you care about gossip?” “Since my guitarist lost her head over some creep I wouldn’t trust to look after a rat.” “Seriously?” she gapes in disbelief. “No wonder you don’t write our lyrics.” “Geez… stop, that’s not the point,” Mick says in exasperation. “Sam—” He pauses to gauge whether Prue recognizes the name but is met with a clueless look. “Rina’s friend?” “Who?” “Rina? My girlfriend who almost kicked your ass at Guitar Hero?” Mick prompts with annoyance. But Prue’s always been bad at remembering faces or names, too focused on keeping her mind in check. Though with that many girls in Mick’s love life, it’s no wonder she struggles to remember their names. "Nothing? Whatever. The goth who was handing out the beer told me they once hooked up with your guy in some club’s dingy bathroom and that he's a total player. Sam kind of has a nose for that.” “People look alike,” Prue says weakly, lowering her head to avoid looking at Mick’s smug face. “Yeah, because your chosen one is that easy to mistake for someone else. I hate to say it, but he’s rather hard to miss. A few girls already asked me about him after the fifteen or so minutes he spent downstairs before the two of you unceremoniously disappeared upstairs.” “Don’t go there, man,” Prue whines, rocking from side to side, ready to bolt at any moment. “I mean… do I need to address the elephant in the room?” Mick plants his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised, looking ridiculous. "He could’ve given you something, for fuck’s sake. An STD or… worse." “Okay, that’s enough,” she hisses, clenching her teeth. There are so many things wrong with Mick’s lecture that she’s not even sure which takes priority. It’s disgustingly invasive, yes, but also infuriating because Mick assumes Prue knows nothing. Besides, it’s laughably hypocritical coming from him, deeply insensitive and stereotypical—and the risk itself is simply impossible given {mc}’s regeneration. “At least tell me—” “SHUT UP!” she barks and marches out. [continue] [if slut === "no"] “Then what about the fact that this guy’s younger brother had a drug problem. Got mixed up with the wrong crowd, a major gang, and one day…” “Stop,” she breathes in a strained voice. “One day, he didn’t come home. Just like a lot of other poor fuckers connected to that circle. The circle your BOYFRIEND runs in,” Mick says, emphasizing the word. “If that guy was so well informed, he could’ve called the cops,” Prue spits, feeling the pressure building in her stomach and chills slowly creeping over her body. Saying these words makes her feel sick. It clashes violently with the grief she feels for that dead boy and every real, undeniable victim of gang violence. And yet… she isn’t ready to face it, not without losing some part of her own integrity. This part of {mc}’s life is like a thorn driven into the center of something blooming, something that could begin to rot if Prue pokes at it, if she gives it as much attention as she probably should. Mick stares at her as though he no longer recognizes her, clearly at a loss for words. “What?” Prue asks with a taunting edge, but her voice sounds thin. “You thought I’d take some random guy’s baseless assumption as proof that {mc}’s dangerous?” she adds, rocking from side to side, ready to bolt at any moment. “There’s nothing safe about your guy and you know it,” Mick snaps, and Prue can’t take it anymore, marching out without another word. [continue] “Girl, come on!” Mick shouts after her. “It’s for your own good!” But at least he doesn’t decide to chase her downstairs, where she almost trips over huge garbage bags scattered across the hallway. {link to: "maleMCending", label: "Next"}

“I see you don’t agree with me,” Mick mutters grumpily, shaking his head as though he has any right to judge. “It’s none of your business,” Prue says, folding her arms because the whole thing starts to feel seriously invasive and Mick just doesn’t know when to stop. [if slut === "yes"] “Then what about her fucking everything that moves?” “I can’t believe this.” Prue throws up her hands in helpless frustration. “Do you have a list or something?” “Not my fucking fault your girl is popular for all the wrong reasons.” “Shut up, right now.” She points at him, starting to seethe. “Sam—” Mick pauses to gauge whether Prue recognizes the name but is met with a clueless look. “Rina’s friend?” “Who?” “Rina? My girlfriend who almost kicked your ass at Guitar Hero?” Mick prompts with annoyance. But Prue’s always been bad at remembering faces or names, too focused on keeping her mind in check. Though with that many girls in Mick’s love life, it’s no wonder she struggles to remember their names. "Nothing? Whatever. The goth who was handing out the beer told me they once hooked up with your girl in some club’s dingy bathroom and that she's a total slu—" The blow echoing through the room is nearly deafening, and Prue feels her eyes water when Mick stares at her in shock, holding his cheek. "Don't—" she whimpers. "Don't call her that." Mick's still speechless, and looking at him becomes unbearable, making Prue wipe her eyes before quickly marching out of the room. She runs downstairs, almost tripping over huge garbage bags scattered across the hallway. [continue] [if slut === "no"] “Then what about the fact that this guy’s younger brother had a drug problem. Got mixed up with the wrong crowd, a major gang, and one day…” “Stop,” Prue breathes in a strained voice. “One day, he didn’t come home. Just like a lot of other poor fuckers connected to that circle. The circle your GIRLFRIEND runs in,” Mick says, emphasizing the word. “If that guy was so well informed, he could’ve called the cops,” Prue spits, feeling the pressure building in her stomach and chills slowly creeping over her body. Saying these words makes her feel sick. It clashes violently with the grief she feels for that dead boy and every real, undeniable victim of gang violence. And yet… Prue isn’t ready to face it, not without losing some part of her own integrity. This part of {mc}’s life is like a thorn driven into the center of something blooming, something that could begin to rot if Prue pokes at it, if she gives it as much attention as she probably should. Mick stares at her as though he no longer recognizes her, clearly at a loss for words. “What?” Prue asks with a taunting edge, but her voice sounds thin. “You thought I’d take some random guy’s baseless assumption as proof that {mc}’s dangerous?” she adds, rocking from side to side, ready to bolt at any moment. “There’s nothing safe about your girl and you know it,” Mick snaps, and Prue can’t take it anymore, marching out without another word. "Girl, come on!” Mick shouts after her. “It’s for your own good!” But at least he doesn’t decide to chase Prue downstairs, where she almost trips over huge garbage bags scattered across the hallway. [continue] {link to: "maleMCending", label: "Next"}

“So,” Alex hums, shoving the half-empty plate of sandwiches in her direction, but Prue just shakes her head. “Had a good night?” She lets the question linger, biting her lip in an attempt to gather her thoughts after the confrontation with Mick, but most importantly, after the morning she spent with {mc}. “Will you think I’m lame if I tell you that it was the second-best night of my life, and both times it was because of the same person?” she finally asks, eyes fixed on the counter, tracing random patterns over it with her finger. But as Alex’s silence stretches, Prue is eventually forced to lift her gaze, meeting the drummer’s thoughtful expression. “What?” “Nothing.” Alex shrugs. “Just glad it was worth it.” “It’s…” Prue pauses, smiling gently, shaking her head, and when she glances at Alex again, there’s a ghost of a smile on her bandmate’s face. “Just remember that we don’t need any more ballads in our catalog.” “Sure,” she grins, then frowns. “Wait. We don’t have any ballads in our catalog.” Alex smirks, getting up. “Penny for Loise sure is a ballad.” “It’s not!” “It is. I could fall asleep during that one,” Alex mutters, stopping in the doorway. “And by the way…” Prue looks at him questioningly. “It really is fucking lame.” “Oh—” she reddens instantly, ignoring Alex’s playful chuckle. “Piss off!” **THE END**

Last time at the motel, Prue didn’t have a chance to truly take him in during such a quiet, ordinary moment. {mc} left so early, leaving behind just a tentative hope that something real might be taking shape between them. But now… it’s different. {mc} must have felt safe enough here, on the bare mattress beside Prue, to let his guard down. Or maybe he’s just a heavy sleeper, which makes her chuckle softly before giving in to a yawn. With one last fond look at {mc}, she decides to catch some more sleep. Snuggling a bit closer to the warm body beside her, Prue shuts her eyes, but all she manages is a shallow doze before the gentle brush of a finger along her Cupid’s bow draws a lazy smile to her face. {link to: "maleMChot", label: "What’s so amusing?"}

Last time at the motel, Prue didn’t have a chance to truly take her in during such a quiet, ordinary moment. {mc} left so early, leaving behind just a tentative hope that something real might be taking shape between them. But now… it’s different. {mc} must have felt safe enough here, on the bare mattress beside Prue, to let her guard down. Or maybe she’s just a heavy sleeper, which makes Prue chuckle softly before giving in to a yawn. With one last fond look at {mc}, Prue decides to catch some more sleep. Snuggling a bit closer to the warm body beside her, she shuts her eyes, but all she manages is a shallow doze before the gentle brush of a finger along her Cupid’s bow draws a lazy smile to her face. {link to: "femMCPrue", label: "What’s so amusing?"}

“Fuck,” {mc} rasps, stepping closer to her with a rare half-smile. “You can’t fucking wait, can you?” A sudden wave of awkwardness hits Prue as she averts her eyes, torn between wanting to go on tour and fearing that she might let the bond between her and {mc} go untended. There’s just no way she would choose one thing over the other. She lowers her barriers a little, just to get a brief read on {mc}’s feelings about all this, but the moment she does, the temptation to open herself completely washes over her in a powerful current, straining her self-discipline. Shit. She’ll need to work on this… rather urgently. “Are you okay?” {mc}’s concerned voice forces Prue to open her eyes, but she merely nods, smiling softly. “It’s just a headache…” she adds distractedly, trying to grasp the lingering hue of {mc}’s feelings about the tour. “Are you trying to read me?” “Um…” “You can just ask.” {mc} fixes her with an intense gaze, the gleam in his eyes matching his raspy tone. “Wanna know what I think about long-distance relationships?” he adds with a chuckle, but his expression turns thoughtful. {link to: "maleMC1", label: "I’m just worried I won’t make it until you return."} {link to: "maleMC2", label: "I think we’ll be fine."} {link to: "maleMC3", label: "What better way to practice phone sex?"} {link to: "maleMC4", label: "I don’t like the prospect, but I’m happy for you."} {link to: "maleMC5", label: "I hate the thought of you being so far away from me."}

“Fuck,” {mc} rasps, stepping closer to Prue with a rare half-smile. “You can’t fucking wait, can you?” A sudden wave of awkwardness hits Prue as she averts her gaze, torn between wanting to go on tour and fearing that she might let the bond between her and {mc} go untended. There’s just no way Prue would choose one thing over the other. She lowers her barriers a little, just to get a brief read on {mc}’s feelings about all this, but the moment she does, the temptation to open herself completely washes over her in a powerful current, straining her self-discipline. Shit. She'll need to work on this… rather urgently. “Are you okay?” {mc}’s concerned voice forces Prue to open her eyes, but she merely nods, smiling softly. “It’s just a headache…” she adds distractedly, trying to grasp the lingering hue of {mc}’s feelings about the tour. “Are you trying to read me?” “Um…” “You can just ask.” {mc} fixes Prue with an intense gaze, the gleam in her eyes matching her raspy tone. “Wanna know what I think about long-distance relationships?” {mc} adds with a chuckle, but her expression turns thoughtful. {link to: "maleMC11", label: "I’m just worried I won’t make it until you return."} {link to: "maleMC22", label: "I think we’ll be fine."} {link to: "maleMC33", label: "What better way to practice phone sex?"} {link to: "maleMC44", label: "I don’t like the prospect, but I’m happy for you."} {link to: "maleMC55", label: "I hate the thought of you being so far away from me."}

“I’m just worried I won’t make it until you return.” The words sound almost casual, but the implication slams into Prue like a freight train, making her widen her eyes in shock at this open admission of helplessness. It mirrors her own, turning her eyes into glimmering pools of emotion too raw to contain. "Don't—Please, don't say that," she pleads, raising her hands, at a loss, motioning for {mc} to come closer, hug her... do anything to somehow ease this building dread. "Sorry, {baby}, I was joking," {mc} mutters into Prue's neck, embracing her slightly shivering form, but it’s a lie they both choose to accept. "I'll miss you, though," {mc} continues, caressing Prue's back. "I'll miss this..." The gentle words grow heated while their embrace becomes more desperate. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "femMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I think we’ll be fine.” Prue smiles gently, relieved that {mc} sees this tour as nothing but a temporary separation, which will probably still put them both through the wringer. But it's not the Middle Ages, they’ll still be able to stay in touch. "I do hope for some extra live footage, though." {mc} grins, stepping closer the moment Prue does the same. "Sure thing." "I kind of like seeing you all sweaty and still pumped with adrenaline." "{mc}..." "What? I wouldn’t say that’s too much to ask if you're leaving me behind." "Are you guilt-tripping me?" Prue asks, a bit incredulous but soon they both chuckle, while the air between them grows heated. The relentless pull never weakens. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "femMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I don’t like the prospect, but I’m happy for you.” {mc}'s voice sounds sad, but there's an unmistakable hint of fondness beneath it, causing Prue to smile with gratitude and wistfulness of her own. "You and music..." Prue falters, not sure if she should voice the truth about how inseparable the two remain in her heart. But {mc} seems to understand it, stepping closer and drawing her into a hug. “I’d never make you choose.” The words make Prue feel relieved, but the embrace reminds her how challenging it will be to stay away from {mc}, how desperate she becomes the moment their bodies press together. And {mc} senses her giddiness, her growing arousal as their embrace becomes tighter. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "femMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“What better way to practice phone sex?” Prue parts her lips but quickly lowers her head, hiding her increasingly warm face. The fact that she's still flushed with embarrassment after everything they did last night is kind of irritating, but she can't seem to overcome her shyness anytime soon. "What? Nothing to say about that?" {mc} murmurs, stepping closer. "I'd say that I won't need much encouragement after seeing you all sweaty and pumped up with adrenaline." "{mc}..." "We can start small, you know," {mc} continues to torture Prue, drawing her into a loose embrace. "With a few hot messages..." Prue swallows hard, while her mind is instantly flooded with intrusive thoughts and images, making her even more flustered, but also... aroused. Their embrace becomes more desperate. The relentless pull between them never weakening. And in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "femMCknocking", label: "Next"}

“I hate the thought of you being so far away from me." {mc}'s gaze darkens, fixing on Prue with the unapologetic weight of emotions so dense they feel almost viscous, sending a shiver down her spine. "I’d much rather keep you by my side." "{mc}." "What? That's the truth," {mc} murmurs, grabbing Prue's hip to pull her closer. "I know it's inconvenient, but that's exactly how I feel. This bond messes with my head." The words sound harsh, almost like a complaint, but the air between them grows thick with the same hunger clouding {mc}'s eyes. Prue can't help but feel affected, stepping even closer, with arousal slowly seeping through her pores. The hues of their bond turning dark and shimmering, and in the blink of an eye, they draw even closer until another breath brings their lips together. So, so slow, with that intoxicating hunger just beneath the surface. {link to: "femMCknocking", label: "Next"}

The beeping of {mc}’s phone interrupts them yet again, forcing {mc} to finally get up, a slightly regretful look on her face. And when the space between them inevitably expands, Prue’s eyes naturally focus on {mc}’s aura, which looks a little darker and more frayed every time she reads it, in stark contrast to the one surrounding Paula… Fear twists in her gut, a sharp reminder of why she actually prefers just to tune into {mc}'s emotions, even at the cost of her own mental defenses. At least that way, Prue experiences a vivid flow of sensations instead of being confronted with visible proof of a soul falling apart… “Wait, are you crying?” The familiar tone of {mc}’s voice and the warmth of her breath prove that the worst hasn’t happened yet… that it doesn’t have to. Prue quickly wipes her eyes, forcing a teasing smile. “It’s just the dry air…” “Yeah, {baby}… that’s bullshit.” {mc} touches her hand, a concerned frown settling on her face. “Is it about Paula?” “Kind of…” Prue admits, smiling sadly. “I imagine she acted like a bitch.” “She was… really freaking scared.” Prue shudders at the memory. Being shoved away so violently by someone who wears {mc}'s face was disturbing enough, but not nearly as disturbing as seeing Paula’s expression twisted with fear and sensing her helplessness. Then the bleeding started… {mc} hums, lowering her eyes. {link to: "P11", label: "Paula’s always been a coward."} {link to: "P22", label: "I feel kind of bad for her."} {link to: "P33", label: "I can’t believe she got to see you naked."} {link to: "P44", label: "She was respectful, I hope?"}

The beeping of {mc}’s phone interrupts them yet again, forcing {mc} to finally get up, a slightly regretful look on his face. And when the space between them inevitably expands, Prue’s eyes naturally focus on {mc}’s aura, which looks a little darker and more frayed every time she reads it, in stark contrast to the one surrounding Paul… Fear twists in her gut, a sharp reminder of why she actually prefers just to tune into {mc}'s emotions, even at the cost of her own mental defenses. At least that way, she experiences a vivid flow of sensations instead of being confronted with visible proof of a soul falling apart… “Wait, are you crying?” The familiar tone of {mc}’s voice and the warmth of his breath prove that the worst hasn’t happened yet… that it doesn’t have to. Prue quickly wipes her eyes, forcing a teasing smile. “It’s just the dry air…” “Yeah, {baby}… that’s bullshit.” {mc} touches her hand, a concerned frown settling on his face. “Is it about Paul?” “Kind of…” she admits, smiling sadly. “I imagine he acted like a dick.” “He was… really freaking scared.” Prue shudders at the memory. Being shoved away so violently by someone who wears {mc}'s face was disturbing enough, but not nearly as disturbing as seeing Paul’s expression twisted with fear and sensing his helplessness. Then the bleeding started… {mc} hums, lowering his eyes. {link to: "P1", label: "Paul’s always been a pussy."} {link to: "P2", label: "I feel kind of bad for him."} {link to: "P3", label: "I can’t believe that asshole got to see you naked."} {link to: "P4", label: "He was respectful, I hope?"}

“Look.” Mick takes it down a notch, softening his approach. “I just don’t think the way this guy looks at you is healthy…” “How does he look at me?” Prue perks up, hungry for the answer. And despite Mick having the sensitivity of a tree stump, he does notice her burning curiosity. The mixture of disbelief and horror written all over his face is proof enough. “Like a walking red flag! Like he wants to own you, control you. The way he negotiated the deal? He’s already dictating the terms of your contract, making you forget about the whole world… He’s building a cage around you, Prue. Can’t you see it?” Mick says it all without missing a beat, looking at Prue like she’s someone in need of saving, like some kind of victim. It’s ridiculous and funny and annoying, unfair… but most of all, wrong, wrong, **WRONG.** {link to: "maleMCtalk", label: "Completely backward."}

“Look.” Mick takes it down a notch, softening his approach. “I just don’t think the way this woman looks at you is healthy…” “How does she look at me?” Prue perks up, her eyes hungry for the answer. And despite Mick having the sensitivity of a tree stump, he does notice her burning curiosity. The mixture of disbelief and horror written all over his face is proof enough. “Like a walking red flag! Like she wants to own you, control you. The way she negotiated the deal? She’s already dictating the terms of your contract, making you forget about the whole world… She’s building a cage around you, Prue. Can’t you see it?” Mick says it all without missing a beat, looking at Prue like she’s someone in need of saving, like some kind of victim. It’s ridiculous and funny and annoying, unfair… but most of all, wrong, wrong, **WRONG.** {link to: "femMCtalkPrue", label: "Completely backward."}