#;; { it may not be edited as well as some of the other fics }

[sluttyten]

I was working on a new fic that I was really looking forward to, but in light of recent revelations, I'm gonna be taking a step back I think

also i removed him from the member masterlist and all of his fics, excluding things like YIMA and the poly series which I'm considering re-editing to get rid of him

[cellythefloshie]

;; meant for loving Dedicating this one to @hockeyboysimagines

Summary: Desperate to relax on the final long weekend before he has to return to St Louis, Vince and his best friend, Miles head out to the cabin for the weekend. Waiting in their tranquility, is Miles' baby sister, Samantha who keeps Vince on the verge of chaos as he has desperations of her own: to love her virginity before she goes off to university. Kinks & TW: male pov, original character, age-gap (5 years), situation ship, brother's best friend, virginity trope, teasing/banter, breast play (mild), missionary, protected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) ABOUT THE OC: Face Claim: Sydney Sweeny Name: Samantha aka “Sam” aka “Sammy” aka "Princess". Is the little sister of Vince's friend Miles. Sam is 18 and is set to go off to college come fall while Vince is set to report to training camp. Word Count: 14k+

Listen to their playlist while you read.

Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @mp0625 @misunderstoodwerewolf @callsign-denmark @puckmaidens @xciciix @cixrosie

There were two things people knew Vince Dunn for and they were hockey and his love to party in the off-season. What they didn’t know, however, was that Vince loved to escape the chaos. He always had, ever since he was a kid, growing up back in Lindsay. There was a certain peace in it all. From the way the tall, green coniferous trees towered high into the gray and stormy skies, to the way the rain hit the windshield with its soft hollow drum, it all drew him away from the city. The cabin was one of his favorite places to escape before the hockey season, especially with the right company. 

Vince could have invited anyone to go with him, a teammate or the girl he was casually fucking ‌and they would have come. But he only invited one person, his best friend, Miles. The pair had grown up playing hockey together - sharing toothless grins back when you gifted them to the tooth fairy instead of going to the dentist and hoping they could splint it back into place. And while their careers had taken them down separate paths, they had always made the summer theirs. Together, at the cabin their families used to vacation at when they were kids, Vince knew he could relax and rejuvenate - and maybe pick up a hot chick at the beach - before the season began. 

But there would be no trips to the beach today. Not with how the rain was pouring down, leaving the cold wet rubber of his tires to slide over the winding Canadian highways that would narrow into roads of gravel and dirt. The slippery conditions left Vince gripping his steering wheel tight, but he wasn’t tense. He welcomed the calm that came with the rain, even if it wasn’t too kind to the car. 

He could always buy another one. 

The drive to the cabin was long, and he spent the entire time in silence. Vince listened to the rain as it fell, growing harder, then softer and harder again. Only for it to be drowned out by the rocks as his tire kicked them up and left them to scrape the paint on his car as he rolled to a stop in the driveway. The windshield wipers made their awful screech against the wet glass as he undid his seatbelt and leaned across his center console to look at the car parked beside him. The water against the glass distorted its body, but he could tell it was some kind of sedan in a color he didn’t like. And he knew it didn’t belong to Miles. He didn’t know whose it was, but he was going to find out real quick. 

Reaching into the backseat, he fisted the handles of his duffle bag. He lifted it with ease - he only packed enough for the weekend - and lifted it up over his head to keep his hair from the rain. But it didn’t stop the icy rain from soaking into his t-shirt and sending chills down the length of his spine. It left him dancing through the front door with zero consideration for knocking. This was like a second home to him. He didn’t need anyone’s permission, and he was curious. 

Miles didn’t mention that anyone else was coming when they had made the plans. And the last time Vince checked, Miles wasn’t seeing anyone. 

Tossing his duffel bag on the floor, he looked over the living room. No sign of life. 

���Mom?” He called out, knowing he wouldn’t hear his own mother calling back to him. Miles’ mother had been just as much a mother to him as his own, so it all slipped off his tongue with ease. 

“Dad?” He called out again as he kicked off one wet sneaker and then the other - still nothing. 

There was nothing in the kitchen either, as he walked on through. Vince even opened the fridge. Nothing. Whoever was there didn’t plan to stay long. 

His every footstep was quiet as he moved through the main floor and up to the spiral staircase that led up to the second story. There, he looked up and down the hall and didn’t notice a thing out of place. That was until he took a single step down and his bright eyes caught the familiar glint of the tarnished metal door handle in the sunlight. Peering up over the top step, he noticed every single door on the second floor was open, except for one. 

Samantha’s door. 

Little Sammy Fraser. Though she probably wasn’t so little anymore. He hadn’t seen her since St. Louis drafted him, and that was five years in the past now. She had been only thirteen then. And through Miles, she was the baby sister Vince had never wanted but would torment all the same. And after so long, it was due time he caused a little trouble again. 

Vince’s lips pulled back in a too-perfect troublemaker’s grin as he cracked his knuckles and took the quick steps onto the second-floor landing. It only took a single stride from the top of the stairs to reach for her door, his large hand gripping the cold handle and pushing it open without a single thought in his brain about why he shouldn’t. And then he saw the very reason he should have knocked. 

Samantha sat on the bed, once propped up against the pillows, she sat completely upright now. Her expression, mortified. Vince had caught her in nothing but a tight pair of denim shorts and a bright pink lace bra. The color alone would have been enough to make him stare. Her heavy cleavage - that he didn’t quite remember her having before - was the fixation of his stare. Even as she tried to cover herself with her arms, Vince’s gaze didn’t break. That was until he realized she wasn’t alone in the room. 

Beside the bed, half dressed though, Vince was sure that wasn’t always the case, was some lanky teenager. The guy couldn’t have been older than nineteen, his hair a mess, and his shirt lost somewhere in the room. It only took a second for Vince to conclude what was happening there, especially when he watched the panic on the kid’s face melt into relief when he realized that they had not been interrupted by her parents or Miles. 

“Who’s this?” the young man, if Vince would even call him that, questioned as he looked up from where he fastened his belt around his middle. 

It was a valid question. Vince wasn’t her brother, and he sure as hell wasn’t her parents catching them alone in her room. If it had been, the kid would have been as good as dead. Though, with Vince,  he still might be. 

“I could be asking you the same thing, dipshit,” Vince shouted back as he stepped into the room with no hesitation or regard for the fact that Samantha still sat nearly petrified on her bed. He didn’t dare look at her, not wanting to remind himself just what state of undress she was in. That was until he heard her broken words pierce the air. It drew his gaze up to her as he stepped towards the bed and fisted the young man’s t-shirt in his hand. Then, he threw it at him. 

“Vince don’t-” Samantha had said. 

Vince was quick to answer. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

But his firm words felt soft against his tongue. It felt swollen in his mouth at the sight of her sitting there on the bed, her blonde hair a mess that framed her features and hung over her bare shoulders. Vince held his breath, his eyes burning in their socket as he desperately fought to keep his eyes fixated on her face. On how her wide eyes were glassy with the threat of crying, and how her full bottom lips seemed to quiver. But he was but a man. A man with eyes that could clearly see all that tempted him. 

Samantha knelt on the bed, her shirt still lost. She was still bare from the waist up, except for the bright pink bra that he could only see glimpses of from behind her arms as she crossed them over her chest. It was her attempt at modesty, but it only emphasized her already eye-catching cleavage. The mere weight of her breast alone left the fabric looking flimsy as Vince’s bright eyes flickered over each swell. 

Vince had to choke out his next words. “Put a goddamn shirt on.”

In the time that Vince was staring, Sam’s guest had pulled on his shirt, but he had yet to make any attempt to leave. Vince’s skin went hot, his jaw going slack as his head leaned back on his shoulders. His shoulder rose and fell in a heavy sigh, and then as Sam groaned out his name in protest, Vince lurched at him. His hand fisted around the guy's shirt collar, his knuckles white as he tugged on the fabric and‌ pulled the lanky trespasser towards the bedroom door. 

Leaving Sam and her harsh words behind him, Vince moved back down the path he had come. Down the winding staircase, and through the kitchen before he came to the front door. The young man stumbled behind him. He tripped on the stairs and then his own feet, but Vince didn’t slow down. Vince would have dragged him all the way to the front door if he had to, and he only stopped when he came to the door. It was a brief pause, just long enough time to step into his sneakers before his free hand reached for the door handle and he stepped outside. 

The rain filled the gravel driveway with murky puddles that soaked into white socks as Vince shoved the uninvited guest out towards his car. He hadn’t given him the time to put on his own shoes, and for a moment Vince considered making him leave without shoes. It would have been a cruel thing, but only a small punishment for trying and failing to get into Samantha’s pants. But then, he would have to make up an explanation for the random, too-small pair of shoes to Miles. And he wasn’t going to rat on Sam. The embarrassment of him catching her would be punishment enough for her. 

Reaching back inside, Vince hooked his fingers around the shoes and tossed them out the door and into the driveway. It was a shame really, he had good taste, but it was satisfying all the same as he shouted, “If I see you around her again, I’ll kick your ass, kid.”

He scrambled for his shoes, but the rain had already soaked through his socks, and for a moment Vince met his eyes. They stood in the rain. Vince’s confident stare met the teenager’s terrified as they were both soaked by the downpour and then the man ran. He took off through a puddle with complete disregard for how wet he became and moved straight for the sedan, which Vince only saw now was some kind of Subaru. As he expected, the kid took off down the driveway like some kind of idiot and disappeared down the road before Samantha could reach the doorway behind him. 

“What the fuck? Vince!” was how she greeted him. 

Turning in place, Vince smiled, even if he knew he shouldn’t have. If she hadn’t been upset already, his smile was sure to do it as Vince turned in place to face her. 

Sam stood in the doorway, fully dressed now, which brought on a sigh of relief - even as she stepped out into the rain with him and placed both hands on his chest. She shoved him firmly, her soft features twisted into a scowl as the cold rain hit her. But she didn’t seem to care. She stood there, away from the cover of the awning, and let the rain soak her. Her straight blond hair began to kink and curl as it dampened, and her white linen blouse became damn near see-through as the rain sent it to cling to her curves. 

Again, Vince struggled not to stare. 

“I’m doing you a favour.”

“A favour? You just stranded me here!”

One of her arms reached out wide, gesturing to the now empty spot in the driveway, but Vince’s eyes fixated between her lips and her collarbone and glanced so subtly down to her breasts. 

“He was your ride, huh?”

“Ah yeah!” Her attitude only left him grinning further, and any guilt he might have gotten hearing he had gotten her stranded at the cabin with him and Miles for the weekend was gone. 

Vince took a step forward, his body nearly colliding with hers as he towered over her. He looked down, smirking as his dark, wet curls hung down into his eyes. “I’m your ride now.”

He watched as her hardened expression wavered. Sam was trying too hard to be tough. It was almost laughable. “You can’t just walk in here and-”

“And what?” He interjected, challenging Sam. It sent her face flushed with colour, but the rosiness of her cheeks paled with his next words. “You’re lucky it wasn’t your brother that found you.”

“Fuck,” her bright blue eyes shot open wide, “he’s on his way?”

“Should be here soon,” Vince spoke, his words kept their cockiness as one hand reached up to push back his wet curls, “he would have kicked that guy's ass, and you know it, Sammy.”

She could only nod as they stood there, so wet that the rain no longer phased them. Sam was stubborn and always had been. She was not ready to concede to him. And Vince? He liked to stir up trouble, even with his best friend’s sister.

“What were you thinking coming here with a guy like that?”

“Guy like that?” Sam scoffed in return, offended. 

The pout that took her features brought Vince to laughter. She couldn’t be serious, right? It was clear just by the car he drove and the shoes he wore, what kind of guy he was. Someone who was superficial, materialistic even, and put the thrill of his ride before the safety of his passenger. Vince didn’t like it, and Sam, well, she didn’t like what Vince was implying. That was clear in how her arms came up to cross over her chest. He knew it was something she did to show him just how unimpressed she was with him, but all Vince could focus on was her breasts. He could see them through her shirt. From the bright pink lace to each swell and the cleavage in between. 

“Believe me, I know the type,” Vince told her, his voice firm as he looked down at her. 

Her cheeks had flushed a brilliant shade of pink as embarrassment consumed her, and silence hung between them. Vince didn’t need her to say it to know that he was right, and she didn’t want to tell him. His smile only grew as they stood there, getting drenched by the rain. 

“That’s why you had him drive you all the way out here, didn’t you?” Vince had a bit of a laugh in his words. “So the guy could get in your pants without your parents getting in the way. I’d say I’m sorry, princess, but as I said, I did you a favour. The guy couldn’t find the clit if you drew him a map.”

Those should have been the words that ended the conversation. That brought Samantha to the silence of her shame and embarrassment and left Vince with a cocky smile as he took his stride towards the front door. Towards dryness and warmth. 

But Samantha was quick to stop him in his tracks with a soft scoff. “As if you could do any better.”

It’s a weak, unexpected jab that left Vince laughing in the door frame. “Damn right, I could.” 

Vince would never admit it, not to Sam and not to anyone, but he had taken more women to bed than he would ever want his mother to find out about. He couldn’t define what a serious relationship was because any attempt at a relationship he had didn’t last more than a series of late-night fucks. But that left him well-practiced and confident in his abilities in the bedroom. 

He had no doubt in his mind that he could leave Samantha satisfied, but the thought alone should have been enough to leave him choking. He had never thought about her like that before - well, before now. 

There would be no ridding his mind of the vision of her back in her bed with her body so freely accessible to his gaze. And now, as they took in the rain so completely soaked that her clothes clung to every curve of her body. 

It should have left him feeling dirty. Samantha was Miles’ baby sister. His best friend’s baby sister. But she wanted so desperately to be fucked. Vince could hear it in her strained words as she challenged him, and in her stare as she held his, her wide blue eyes glassy and hopeless. She was practically asking her to fuck him with so few words, and he was so close to caving. 

Vince cussed under his breath as he reached out to her, a single hand finding her back and pressing against it firmly. “Get in the house,” he told her and let the gentle guidance of his touch usher her back inside the cabin and out of the rain. 

Together they stood in the narrow entryway, so close he could feel her warmth cut through the cold air as he reached into his back pocket for his phone. While he dialled, he held her gaze, silently telling her that their conversation wasn’t over. Then he brought his phone up to his ear, and her face fell. “Hey buddy, I just arrived. How far out are you?”

He was talking to her brother.

Sam inched closer to him, her expression soft as she tried to make out what her brother was saying, but Vince only let her hear what he wanted her to hear. 

“You haven’t left yet?” His brow raised up as he looked at Samantha, her panic only growing as he spoke. “Nah, it’s all good. You’ll never guess who’s here…” 

Vince has to look away as he trails off. It’s the only way to keep himself from smiling. His eyes fixated on the window, watching as the raindrops fell over the cold glass as he answered, “Yeah, your sister.”

The mere mention of her left Sam lurching for his arm. Both of her hands found one of his forearms, clutching to him with her desperation and drawing his gaze from the rain and back to her face. She didn’t have to say a single word. Her eyes did all the pleading for her. Still wide, still glassy, but begging. Begging him not to tell Miles what he had caught her doing up in her room. And he wouldn’t, Vince liked the leverage. 

“One of her friends dropped her off,” he paused, listening to Miles as he listed off some of her friends' names as if it mattered who left her there, “yeah, that’s the one. She’ll keep me out of trouble until you get here.”

Or they would get into some trouble of their own. That fate still was yet to be determined. 

His thumb stroked over the screen of his phone, ending the call and sending it to darkness before he placed it face down on a nearby console table. Vince thought the simple action would get him off the hook, that Sam would back off and let her guard down, relieved that he didn’t let her little secret slip, but she remained, her hands on his forearm as they stood in the entryway. 

“He’s going to be a few hours,” Vince told her. 

And her brow raised up with her sweet and simple, “So?”

“So,” he hesitated for a moment, his tongue dragging over his lower lip. His body rocked with a careful sigh, unsure if he should entertain the dangerous temptations in his mind, but he did it anyway. “So, you want to lose your virginity as desperately as I think you do?”

Her hands fell from him, her jaw slacked, “I’m not-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Vince interrupted her firmly, his cold eyes hardening, “Couldn’t get it done on prom night, so you sneak out here the summer before college just to get it out of the way? I got that little fantasy, right?”

Samantha’s face faded free of any expression, shock consuming her. And Vince can only smile. Fuck, he loved being right.

But Sam didn’t answer him, so he pressured her further. “So you don’t go in all prudish and innocent?”

“Vince,” she spoke his name so slowly, so meekly, it gave him goosebumps. 

“Did you even bring condoms?”

She paled. 

And he laughed. 

Of course, she hadn’t come prepared. 

With a careful tug, Vince was out of her grasp and moving towards his bag that he had discarded on the floor. He had only packed enough for the long weekend, but what he searched for, he kept buried at the bottom. It was half empty, crushed by the weight of his belongings, a box of condoms. Vince always carried some with him, let it be in his car, in his bag or in his pocket. He was always prepared. Unlike Sam, who watched him from her place in the entryway as she chewed at her bottom lip. 

At the sight of them, her eyes lit up like he had some sort of prize in his hands. Any worry she had seemed to fade with her offering, a thank you on the tip of her tongue as she reached out for the box, only for Vince to tug it just out of her reach with a smile of his own.

“I’ll give them to you, on one condition,” he told her, only for her brow to raise in a silent question. He answered, “I’m the one who fucks you this weekend. Not that idiot kid, not some lifeguard, me.”

Vince didn’t know what to expect when he had made the proposition, but he hadn’t been expecting for her to take a step towards him, a cocky little smile on her own lips. He was struggling to accept that she may not be the timid teenager he remembered. Samantha was very much all grown up now, and she knew exactly what he wanted from her now. 

“And what makes you think I’d want it to be you?” Sam’s question was slow as her large blue eyes looked up at him through thick lashes. 

And Vince laughed. 

It was a low rumbling as he smirked and cocked his head to the side slowly. “You wanted it to be him?” His arm raised lazily, gesturing to the door that he had forced her little friend through.

They both fell into silence, their smiles small and their stares unbroken until she backed off and moved for the spiral staircase to begin her ascent. 

“I’ll take that as a no?” His words are a question, not a statement that had her freezing halfway up the staircase to look back at him as he remained in the entryway. 

Her smile remained small, a cocky troublemaker’s grin that told Vince that he just might have gotten himself in over his head with her and her words only confirmed that for him. “It’s an; I’m thinking about it.”

It rained all day, and into the night, trapping Vince inside the cabin, awaiting an answer to the proposition that hung too heavily in the air. The longer he had to wait, the more conflicted he felt - the more stupid he felt. He should have never put Sam in this position. He should have never, so bluntly, asked to fuck her. Yet, she was considering it. Considering him. She was interested, maybe only a little or greatly, and it was a weight that hung over him as he lounged in the living room and waited for the rain to pass. For an answer. For Miles to arrive. 

Miles arrived before the rain could stop, and before he could receive an answer from Sam. She had remained up in her room, hidden away until her brother arrived. Vince almost wished she had stayed there. Seeing her in her little shorts that were made more for sleeping than covering anything up and her sweatshirt left him near choking on the fact that their window to do anything had closed. 

Vince wasn’t all that mad about that fact. It would save him the headache of having to deal with the consequences later. But that didn’t mean the idea of it all didn’t linger. Samantha’s exposed body was all he could think about when she was in the room, even if she had covered herself up. The worst part was what she did with the knowledge of him wanting to fuck her. When she could have told her brother about the pass he had made on her, she withheld it from him. Much like Vince, it gave her leverage. 

If he told Miles about the guy he had caught her with, she would tell him that Vince was all too willing to take on the responsibility of taking her virginity himself. So they both remained tight-lipped and casual, but Sam teased him. 

Every playful glance she gave him, every moment her hands had been so casually placed on him, stewed in the back of his mind and his needs were desperately close to boiling over. The thoughts left him tossing and turning in bed at night. The rain was gone, and the hollow sound of the drops hitting the window couldn’t drive each forbidden thought from him. They couldn’t drown away the thought of what it might feel like to touch the smooth skin of her waist, or what she might sound like when he made her cum. They were thoughts that ran rampant, leaving his body shimmering with sweat and his cock raging so hard it ached. 

Vince needed a distraction, and he found it out on the back porch where the silver moonlight glistened off the lake water in the distance and the cold autumn air that threatened the last few days of summer left him shivering. Any other night, he would have retreated inside, but he needed the chill. It raised goosebumps over the flesh of his arms and his chest as he stood, leaning against the porch railing, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. And while it was cold and uncomfortable, it calmed him. 

The crest of the water against the shore freed his mind, and the ache slowly faded. It all lulled Vince into thinking that he just might get to go back up to his room. That he might just be able to get some sleep. 

That was until he heard the open and shut of the flimsy screen door behind him. A heavy sigh shook his shoulders, and for a moment he thought he might just see his breath in the air as he let it go. Then he let himself look back, hoping to find Miles, but the sight of Samantha was what greeted him. He almost cursed and knew he should have gone back inside at that moment and left her alone. But his eyes fixated on the hem of her oversized sweater and how it crept up the skin of her thigh with each stride. It left him convinced she was wearing nothing else and forced him to look back out over the lawn and down to the lake water that he suddenly felt like he was drowning in. 

“Sneaking out?” Vince asked, his brow raised up even though he wasn’t looking up at Sam for her to see it. 

“I just wanted to get some air,” Sam answered him simply, and while he didn’t look at her as she spoke, he felt her warmth as she leaned up against the railing beside him, “can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, me either,” Vince sighed and reached a hand up to knot in his curls. 

“Got a lot on your mind?” Her sweet question left a smile on Vince’s lips. 

She didn’t even know the half of it, and he knew better than to indulge her. It would only get them both into trouble. 

“Something like that,” Vince sighed, his head turning to give her a quick glance. 

He regretted it in an instant. Samantha was petite, standing there at his side. He towered over her by seven inches still - maybe more. And while her hooded sweatshirt consumed much of her, there was no stopping his eyes from dragging down the angles of her legs and back up again The simple movement of resting her chin on her arms raised the sweater up inches on her body, the hem resting on the curve of her ass and confirmed that she was wearing nothing else but a pretty pair of panties. 

Vince cleared his throat. 

“You really should put some clothes on if you’re going to be prancing around here.”

“Prancing?” Sam asked him, her words sweet as she cocked her head to the side. She seemed so innocent, so naïve, but she knew exactly what she was doing. 

Toying with Vince. 

Tempting him. 

“I’ve seen that little hop in your step since our little conversation earlier-”

“Oh, have you?” Sam cut in, “Maybe I’ve always had that little hop in my step. You’ve just never cared enough to notice.”

“Of course, I care,” Vince’s eyes rolled as he stepped in closer to her, sighing under the feeling of her warmth as he was so close to touching her body as he had wanted to all night, “that’s why I never let myself notice.”

“So what changed?” Sam asked him slowly, leaning in and looking up. 

She looked so pretty there in the moonlight. The pale silver light illuminated all of her features, and for a moment Vince found himself distracted, staring. Samantha’s skin had been kissed by summer, giving her this warmth that Vince wanted to lean into. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, so bright beneath stray blond locks that the breeze tossed into her face. And her lips, so pink, pouted and kissable, he was one mere temptation away from taking her face in both hands and drawing her in for a self-indulgent kiss that would answer so many of the questions that plagued her. 

But his silence didn’t lure her in. It left her fumbling with the sleeves of her sweater as she sought any semblance of clarification. “I mean, I know why you wouldn’t have before, but I’m still my brother’s baby sister…”

That would never change. 

Samantha would always be Miles’ baby sister. 5 years younger than both of them. The kid they were stuck babysitting for years - but she wasn’t a kid anymore. And he couldn’t offer her a more complicated answer, even though he wished he could. This wasn’t some love story of a lifetime in the making. This wasn’t some kind of connection he had felt for years, just waiting for the right moment to act on it. 

No, this was primal. Selfish. 

When Vince had found her in her bedroom, so vulnerable and leaving so little to the imagination, she showed him almost all of what she could offer him. That enough was enough to catch his attention, to plant that nagging thought of wanting to take her to bed. Then he learned she was still untouched. A virgin. And it only made her more desirable. 

All he could think about was her tits, and now her ass as it peeked out from what little coverage her cotton panties and her sweatshirt concealed from him. It leaves his mouth dry, his tongue licking over his lips to moisten them. 

Then, he doesn’t answer his question and instead asks one of his own. 

“Aren’t you cold?”

Samantha narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re dodging my question.”

He nodded. She wasn’t wrong. But his mind was clouded, focused on her body, not her words, and he didn’t think he could string together an answer she deserved, never mind an answer she would want to hear. 

“I respect your brother, but-”

“But?” Sam interjected, and she inched so close to him he had to shut his eyes to keep himself from temptation. 

A low groan vibrated through him, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, knowing all too well he might regret what he was about to say. “Your first time should be something special.” 

Her scoff was just short of a laugh and left Dunn’s stomach heavy. He was right. He regretted saying that. 

“Your ego is, wow-” He could hear the smile in her voice as he let his eyes open to take in the darkness. Vince watched her as she stepped away from him and the railing and spun around as if her laughter was sweet music. When her feet stilled, Samantha leaned up against the screen door. It was then she spoke again, a smile in her words, “What makes you so special, Vince?”

“I know what I’m doing-”

She barely let him answer before she laughed again. Mocking him. 

“Do you? On whose word, your own?”

Vince’s jaw set as he turned to face her fully, his eyes dragging over her features that were alight with amusement. She was playing a little game with him, and he was letting her. 

“You want testimonials?”

“I don’t need to hear shit from the bunnies you fuck.”

There was a bit of harshness in her words, and Vince couldn’t tell if it was judgment or jealousy because she wasn’t wrong. Vince couldn’t even count the women he fucked since being drafted in 2015. Hell, even before that, he had developed a reputation for sleeping around. From the OHL to the AHL and the 3 seasons in the NHL that included a Stanley Cup Win - Vince had many options when it came to which women he took to bed. He had one in every city he played in and knew that the moment he sent that all too typical “you up?” text, they would be catching a cab to his hotel room. Because he was just that good in bed. 

“Sounds like you’re jealous.” His words were a baseless accusation, but they challenged her in a way that left her confidence wavering for a moment before she found her words again. 

“Jealous? No,” she hummed, her chin tilted up so she could meet his eyes. Samantha didn’t shy away from him, and Vince both loved and hated that. Part of him wanted her to be meek, to both accept the imminent collapse that would be her in his bed or go to the opposite extreme and reject him so harshly that he never contemplated the thought of being between her thighs again. Yet, she continued to toy with him just as he toyed with her. 

“But I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You’re hot, don’t get me wrong. But you’re also filthy rich. An athlete. I’d fake it too if that meant I might get a piece of that life. Fuck, some might just do it for the bragging right alone,” there was a humour in her voice, one that dropped into a low hum as her lips curled with her next words, “but I’d bet you couldn’t find the clit if I drew you a map.”

It was Vince who laughed as he took his lazy strides away from the porch railing. Bare feet stepped over wet wood, the chill coursing up the length of his now heated body. He felt on the verge of sweating as he came to stand toe to toe with Samantha, towering over her and trapping her with her back against the door. As if he could risk getting any closer to her, he took in a steady inhale as he braced himself against the screen door, giving her nowhere to run. 

He stared down at her, and her up at him as they stood in silence. The only sound around them was the water of the lake in the distance crashing against the rocks on the shore and the trickle of water down the eavestrough as the remnants of the rain slowly faded into the night. Then, so faintly, yet so loudly in his ears, he heard Samantha take a quivering breath. 

He was so close to her, and her to him, that he could feel the night’s chill on her body, and he was sure that she could feel every breath he took on her cheeks as he stared down at her. 

“Let me warm you up a bit?”

Full pink lips parted to speak, but she found no words. His mere proximity had rendered her to silence, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Samantha could only nod as she looked up at him, her hands fisting the too-long sleeves of her sweatshirt. 

If he had wanted to be cruel, he would have pulled back and went up to bed. To leave her standing there until she realized just how close he was to kissing her, to touching her. He would have loved to tease her, leaving her craving his kiss on her lips when she was just a breath away from having it. But not even Vince could deny himself of just a simple pleasure when he had gone through the entirety of his day at the cabin thinking about it. 

Vince leaned in nice and slow, almost waiting for Samantha to speak a single word. To tell him to stop before he could even taste her, but that moment never came. Instead, he watched as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in a subtle breath as she welcomed the caution of his kiss. Her lips were smooth against his own, so soft and plush that Vince’s hand which had lain flat against the door gripped into a fist. Samantha returned his kiss, easing his cautions, and what little restraint he had was quickly dwindling. 

His tongue ventured out through parted lips, coaxing her lips into parting and giving himself a taste of her. Vince’s tongue stroked against her own, and he heard the softest of moans as she let it slip into his mouth. She tasted sweet, like strawberries, and was only beginning to ease the hunger that consumed him. 

It was a hunger that had him throwing all caution away now that he had gotten a taste of her. His body pressed firm into her while one hand remained up above her against the door. His other hand explored. It found the curve of her waist, craving so desperately to travel upwards to grope at her breast, but Vince’s touch travelled down. Down along the curve of her waist and over the swell of her lip before stroking over the skin of her exposed thigh and settling between her legs. 

Samantha quivered as her breath hitched. Vince’s fingers had stroked over the thin cotton of her panties and dipped down just low enough to rest just over her clit. Then his hand stilled, and his kiss halted. Vince just stood there, his fingers a ghost of his touch over her clit without giving her the satisfaction of pressing into it. 

Vince just wanted her to know that he knew exactly where it was. 

Drawing back slowly, Vince smirked down at Samantha, who looked to be on the verge of collapsing if it wasn’t for the support of the screen door against her back. 

“You should go back up to bed before we do something stupid,” Vince tells her slowly, and she still can only nod. 

She took a moment to find her composure there against the door before she fixed her sweater and pushed off of it. She didn’t have to go far, taking only a mere step before she turned around and pulled it open to let herself inside. But he wasn’t following her, and it left her lingering in the doorway as she spoke. “You’re not coming?”

“I’m going to need a minute,” Vince admitted, stepping back to lean against the porch. The moonlight caught him just right and cast the shadow of his own erection against his thigh. He didn’t hide it. He wanted her to look. To see the effect she had on him, and what he can offer her in return. 

And she noticed. It was clear in how red her cheeks became, and how quick she was to look away when he caught her admiring the outline of his cock. Samantha’s hair fell down into her face in a golden curtain that hid her bashful smile as she retreated through the door with nothing more than a simple, “goodnight”. 

It shut hollowly behind her, leaving Vince to stand on his own. He welcomed the breeze, and he welcomed the quiet, but calm did not come as easily. Vince has to fight off every corrupt thought, the feeling of her skin that lingered on his fingertips and the taste of her on his tongue. The mere essence of her remained with him even after the night’s cold shocked Vince back into a calm, and as he returned inside. Samantha was a lingering thought as he moved through the main level, up the spiral staircase, and when he stopped just outside her door. 

His eyes dragged up and down the door frame, fixating on the tarnished handle as he stepped a little closer, his hand outstretched, only for it to ball into a fist before he could take it in his hold. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. And he sighed as he took a step back and retreated into his room for a restless night of sleep.

Come morning, Vince did what he should have done since he caught Samantha in her room. He kept his distance. After a restless night, he woke up with the sun. It was barely cresting over the horizon when he had pulled on his sneakers and went for a run through the familiar trails that wound through the trees that surrounded the cabin. When he returned, Sam and Miles were both making breakfast. And while his stomach growled with hunger, he made his excuses and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick, cold shower. It was only when the kitchen was clear; that he stood at the counter and ate breakfast alone. Strawberries, eggs, and toast. The strawberries were all that remained on his plate when he was done, knowing he could not last a day where the taste of them lingered on his tongue. 

Then Vince spent his day away from the cabin, out on the water. Unlike the day before when the rain left it feeling more like autumn than the last long weekend of summer, the sun was out in full force before noon. He enjoyed every moment of its warm embrace as he whipped around the lake on the back of a jet ski. 

Out on the lake, it was just him and Miles. The perfect distraction from the temptations that waited for him back at the cabin. But it didn’t keep his mind from wandering, wondering. When the warmth of the sun met the chill of the water and didn’t shock him, Vince thought about Samantha. About what happened the night before, and what she might be doing. He hadn’t seen her since he had given her the cold shoulder at breakfast, but it didn’t stop him from hoping that she was staying out of trouble. 

Vince got his answer when he pulled up at the dock behind Miles just after noon. Samantha was down by the edge of the water, her body glistening with water as she climbed out from a swim. Even from a distance, he could see how it glimmered like glitter as it travelled down her curves as she made no effort to dry off. She had pulled her hair up in a claw lip, giving him a better view of her body than she had unintentionally given him the day before. And her blue and white gingham bikini was too tiny, leaving very little to the imagination. She might as well have been standing in front of him naked. 

Vince had to bite his tongue as he threw his life jacket down on the dock. He wanted to desperately to tell her to go inside, to put some clothes on, but he couldn’t give any suggestion that his view of her had changed. Vince needed to be unbothered, even if the mere sight of her made his skin crawl in the best of ways. Especially as Miles led the way back up to the cabin. 

With his eyes fixated on the ground, Vince followed Miles’ path with no guidance beyond watching his ankles. It was the only way he could keep himself from staring at Samantha as they walked up the dock - but the moment Miles called out to his sister, Vince’s eyes strayed from his hollow steps on the dock and found their way back to Samantha. 

She had settled back in a lounge chair at the edge of the water, her petite body sprawled out in a way that almost looked staged. Like she was waiting for someone to take her picture. Sam wanted him to look at her. And in her hands, she held a book. Not that Vince cared to notice it as his eyes dragged up the length of her legs. It was her brother who made him aware of it in the cradle of her hold. 

“Good book?” Miles’ words were simple as he approached his sister, Vince following in his shadow. 

“Very. I’m almost done,” Samantha held up her book with one hand, and let the other fall on her sunglasses to push them back up into her hair, “just started today.”

“You’ve been out there that long?” Miles asked, and Vince almost groaned. He just wanted to get back in the house, but he wasn’t about to push past Miles to do it. 

It would beg too many questions if he didn’t loiter. If he didn’t wait for the two siblings to finish whatever mundane conversation they were having. 

“Yeah,” her answer was slow as she looked past her book, and to her brother and for a moment Vince was sure her eyes flickered to him. Just to make sure he was looking. And he was. So shamefully, he was. 

“Did you put on sunscreen?” Miles' question left both Vince and Samantha groaning, and he could only hope that Miles didn’t notice. 

“Of course,” Sam sat up, almost offended by the accusation, and her breast seemed to bounce at the motion. Testing the flimsy hold of her bikini and catching the stare of his eyes as they settled. 

“Recently?”

“You sound just like mom,” Sam tossed back at Miles and set her book down on the chair beside her and she reached for her sunscreen. 

It was the end of her conversation with her brother, sending him up the path back up to the house. And Vince moved after him, but Samantha wasn’t done with him yet. 

“Vince, hey,” she called out to him, stilling his steps and drawing his gaze back to her as she sat in her chair, “can you help me get my back?”

Sam wore a devilish smile on her lips as she held out the sunscreen to him, wiggling it silently as if her body alone wasn’t enough to entice him. 

“Sammy,” Vince sighed, his jaw slack as his eyes rolled. 

She shouldn’t be asking him to do these things, but she knew that. 

And he should have said no and gone back up to the house with Miles, but he couldn’t. She knew that too. 

“Please,” she pouted her bottom lip out at him, and it had him backtracking. 

The smile Sam gave him was one of triumph as he took the sunscreen from her hand and sat down on the chair next to her. He kept his eyes fixated on the bottle and the lotion as he squeezed it out into the palm of his hand. It was all he could do to keep himself from staring, but he regretted it the moment he looked up. 

While he had been distracting himself, Samantha had reached back with both hands and unknotted the back of her strapless bikini. Vince had looked up just in time to watch as the wet bathing suit fell away and he panicked. 

With one hand full of sunscreen, he dropped the bottle that he held in the other and reached out to her. It was a reflex that fried his every thought process. One moment, he was telling himself he needed to stop the fabric from falling away from her body. He needed to stop Samantha from exposing her breasts. And the next, he froze, mere inches from her body at the realization that if he stopped that fabric from falling, he would have a hand full of her breast. 

His hand flexed as he flinched back, his eyes narrowing as the fabric fell, but her arms came up to cradle her breast in her hold. He wanted to curse at her, to shout for being so reckless, but he didn’t want to draw in any unnecessary attention. 

Vince could only sigh. 

“Jesus, Sammy. What are you doing?”

Her smile was unwavering as she sat there facing him so confidently with her smile. Not even the risk of her own breast spilling over the hold of her arms had her shying away from him as she innocently answered, “What? I don’t want to get tan lines!”

And he almost believed her. Almost. 

If it weren’t for the testing twinkle in her eyes, he would have thought it was an innocent thing. But paired with her little smirk, Vince knew she was teasing him. 

He watched as she turned in place so that her back was to him. A heavy breath caught in his chest when he thought she might have to reach a hand up to hold her hair away from her back before his eyes flicked up to the clip that held her hair in place. The clip alone helped put him a little at ease, even if his body was rigid as he reached out to spread the lotion over the flesh of her back. His hand moved in gentle strokes as his eyes looked up at the cabin to ensure her brother had gone inside before he let his eyes return to her. 

Before he could see it, Vince could feel Sam’s reaction to his touch. She was melting beneath his fingers, her shoulders falling forward and her head lulling back on her shoulders. Vince watched as the tension of her muscles disappeared and he smirked as she leaned back into the caress of his hands. 

“I think you’re just making up excuses for me to touch you,” his words were a low growl as he leaned in to mutter them in her ear. There was a long moment of silence that fell between them, and he waited for her to deny it, but she didn’t. “You like how my hands feel on your body?”

His words hit her in a breath, and she refused to answer him with words. But her body was all he needed to know about the effect he was having on her. He noticed how her toes flex in anticipation, and how her hips angled her pelvis down. Vince couldn’t see what exactly Sam had angled herself into, but he was sure she was one touch away from grinding against the lounge chair. 

“My offer still stands,” Vince told her as his hands settled on the curve of her waist and gripped her flesh carefully. It’s a touch that leaves her glancing over her shoulder at him, her face-framing strands falling into her eyes as she bites at her lower lip. 

There was no more wonder. No more contemplation. She wanted him and Vince could only wish that he could take her right then and there, but it was too risky. Too stupid. 

“Tonight?” she offered in a quiet yelp as Vince guided her hips in a careful roll that sent her cunt grinding against the lounge chair. 

“No, we can’t do it here, not with your brother around,” Vince sighed, leaning forward to place a careful, reassuring kiss on her shoulder, “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to follow my lead. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “okay.”

With her answer, Vince left her there, out on the lawn in the embrace of the sun, and didn’t see her again until dinner. 

The three of them sat around the small dining table, the sound of forks scraping against glassware filling the silence between mouthfuls and casual conversation. It was with them, all together, that Vince could put his attempt of a plan into motion. 

“Hey, man,” Vince nodded to Miles across the table casually, “can I take your truck into town in the morning? Early. I just want to grab a few things, and I don’t think my car will handle the back roads.”

His eyes glanced over at Sam as he spoke. This is it, princess, he thought as she watched her straighten up in her seat, her fingers toying with the drawstring on her sweatshirt hood. 

“Yeah, go for it,” was the answer Vince expected, and the one that Miles gave to him. 

“Thanks man, I-”

“Vince,” Sam cut in, and Vince had to try not to smile. “Do you mind if I tag along? I, ah, I need a few things.” The way she emphasized the word, things didn’t leave room for Vince or Miles to question it. 

All Vince needed to do was accept, and he did it with a look of annoyance to hide the satisfaction that had him melting back into his seat. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just be up on time or I’m leaving without you-”

On the cold morning, the truck’s windows were fogged, and the cab left chilled even as the motor ran. Vince’s stiff, tired fingers toyed with the dials of the air conditioning that was left on. He was quick to turn it off, replacing the cool air with a gust of warmth that left him leaning back in the driver’s seat. Beside him, resting on the bench seat, was a pile of heavy blankets and on top of them was the box of condoms. He couldn’t hide the crooked smile that consumed him at the sight of the tattered cardboard as his head leaned back against the headrest. He had waited all weekend to get to use them. His original intention was to pick up some random, desperate woman from the beach, but his plans quickly changed because of Samantha. And while it left a heavy feeling in his gut, his cock was already half-hard just waiting for her. 

Watching through a patch in the window that he had wiped clear of the fog with his fist, Vince waited. For how long, he didn’t really know, but it was long enough that doubt crept in. His hot breath mixed with the cold air, and would fog up the window once and then again as he watched the front door. There was no sign of life. No light. No movement. No Samantha. 

Eyes dropped to the bright, blue-green glow of the digital clock. It was still early. Earlier than he told her, but even he got nervous when the stakes were high. The minutes ticked by and Vince began making excuses as to why he didn’t make it into town after all for when Samantha didn’t join him - but then the front door opened and a wave of relief hit him. 

Samantha left the house as if her brother didn’t know that the two of them had plans to run into town. Her every moment was slow, deliberate and careful, and she had the hood of her zip-up sweatshirt pulled up over her head as if she needed to conceal who she was. It left Vince chuckling as she climbed into the seat next to him, her blonde hair framing her face and the bright blue of her eyes as she looked at him. 

“What?” she asked him slowly, a weakness in her voice that sounded more like insecurity than sleepiness. 

“It’s nothing,” Vince assured her slowly, his hand reaching up to throw the truck into reverse before Sam could put her seatbelt on, “you’re just a dork. Sneaking out like that. Your brother knows we’re going out.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, her hands reaching up to push her hood back, “right.”

Together, they sat in the truck cab in silence as they drove down the road. The fog beaded into drops of moisture, streaking down the windows as the heat cleared it away. On the horizon the sun was only just rising, flooding the dark skies with the many shades of sunrise. It was a beautiful sight, even with heavy tired eyes, even if they wouldn’t be able to see it for long as he turned down a back road that was smothered by the overgrowth of towering trees. 

Thin branches reached out over the narrow road, their baring branches hitting and scratching at the truck as it passed. The tires kicked up the dirt, and even while he slowed, it left a dust cloud in their wake. It wasn’t an unfamiliar road. Miles’ dad had taken them all fishing when they were kids, just beyond the dead end. Where the road met thick brush, and beyond it the water. But the paths once taken had long since grown over, and there were no other vehicles parked along the edge of the road. There would be no one to interrupt them for now, but Vince knew they would have to be vigilant. 

“Alright, get in the back,” Vince broke the silence, his hand reaching out for the pile of blankets. 

He tucked them under his arm, and in his hand, he carried the box of condoms in his firm grip as he slid out of the driver’s seat and rounded back to climb into the truck bed. The truck bed was cold and it wouldn’t be the most comfortable of things for her, but Vince was going to do his best. Tossing the condoms down, he unfolded one blanket and laid it out, then another. The third he would use to keep them warm. 

Samantha stood at the end of the bed, watching him with curious eyes before letting herself climb up into the bed with him. He watched her as she crawled up the length of it. Her black leggings hugged her body with each movement, right down to her chunky white sneakers on her feet. She looked like she was going for a run more than she looked to be going to a dick appointment. But she was comfortable as she sat down at his side - a little nervous, but comfortable all the same and it left Vince smiling. 

“Come ‘here,” he coaxed her as he reached across the little space between them for her hand. 

He held it carefully in his hold, giving it a careful tug to draw her in close, only to drop it when she was near enough to place his hands on her hips. His hold on her was gentle, his thumbs stroking over the swell of her hipbone as he guided her down to straddle his hips. Vince could feel her warmth on every side of him, bleeding through the thick fabric of his black hooded sweatshirt and his grey sweatpants as they warmed between her thighs. With her there, he took a moment to admire her, his bright eyes flickering over her softened features. She was doing a good job of hiding her nerves, but he could still see it there in her eyes, as she couldn’t quite meet his own. 

When he spoke, his hand moving up and down over her thighs in a soft stroke as he did so, he only made it worse. “Alright, Sammy, tell me what I’m working with.”

Her gaze shifted from where they seemed to stare at his lips to the trees beyond as she chewed at her bottom lip, “I, um.”

She was hesitating. Unsure of what exactly he was asking, or too nervous to tell him the dirty little details he didn’t know, he encouraged her all the same. “How far have you gone before?”

Sam blushed, her eyes coming to find his face again, and only for a moment did he meet his eyes. “Over the clothes.”

“And what do you do when you’re by yourself?”

“Vince!” His name was soft on her tongue, her eyes wide as her mouth full agape. She hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that. 

“Hey,” he met her, his own voice dropping to her softness as he reached his hand up to caress her cheek, “You don’t have to worry with me, okay? I’m not here to judge you,” she relaxed into his touch, a heavy sigh rocking her body, “and if I’m going to fuck you, Princess, I want to know what you like and what you’re going to be able to handle-”

Her insecurity broke, her lips spaying into a confident smile as she leaned in to challenge him. “I can handle anything you give me.”

There she was. The Samantha that was so eager to toy with him. 

“Humour me then?” His head cocked as his hand left her cheek and traced the outline of her curves. It ghosted over the swell of her breasts, and his hand hesitated there for a moment. Vince craved to grope a handful, but his touch travelled over her waist and settled on her hips once more. He gripped them tight and guided them into their first gentle roll over his cock.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut at the friction. Her lips parted in a silent gasp before she could bite down on her lower lip.  

“How often?” Vince asked. 

“Often,” was her simple, feeble response. 

A smile grew over Vince’s lips as she crumbled for him. He sat up from where he leaned against the back window of the truck and leaned in. She had found her rhythm, her lips rolling over his slowly, but not enough to tease him. She, much like him, was too eager to wait. Vince’s eyes shut as he fought off a groan of his own, his face finding the warmth of her neck just below her ear. It was there he kissed her, his hot breath warming her skin as he muttered, “Fingers or toys?”

“Fingers.”

His lips dragged over the smooth angle of her jaw in a slow kiss before he spoke again, “Clit or-”

“Vince-”

He kissed down her neck, his teeth grazing over her flesh as he tried to coax an answer from her. “Sam.”

She hesitated, and it had Vince leaning back to look up at her. No answer. No sex. 

Pouting in his lap, Sam let out an embarrassed huff. “You know the answer.”

“How many fingers?”

Her face was bright red, her skin so hot that Vince forgot that he had been cold. And while she hesitated, she answered him, “Two.” 

Vince’s hands left her hips and took hold of one of hers.  He drew it up so she could see it in front of her. There, his palm met hers and they compared how much bigger his hands and fingers were to hers. He let her stare, her eyes wide as her tongue stroked over her bottom lip. He knew exactly what she was thinking about at that moment without her needing to say a word. Vince had planted the very thought of wondering what his fingers would feel like as they plunged into her core. And he felt her shudder. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, “but you have to promise me that if it becomes too much, or it hurts, you tell me to stop. Got that?”

Samantha nodded slowly, her teeth biting her lip before she let it fall with her words. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” he praised her, and she shuddered again. 

She liked praise. And he noted it. 

“So,” she hummed slowly, “where do we start?” Vince could only hush her as his hand reached up to stroke through her thick blond hair. His fingers toyed with her soft strands as he pushed them away from her face before they came to rest at the nape of her neck. With that hold, he guided her in and met her lips in a kiss. 

There was no caution between them. No hesitation as their lips fell into that same hunger that they had fought back on the porch during the night he had let his desire to fuck her swelter cloud every bit of her better judgement. Her tongue was in his mouth, her hands were in her hair. Tangled in each tendril as he held her head in his hands. Thumbs coaxed her carefully, guiding her mouth open further. The kiss became sloppy, saliva-coated chins and teeth clashed in the desperation of it all. And then his hands dropped. 

Samantha had maintained the careful roll of her hips over his raging cock, so she didn’t need his help there. Now, he got to explore. 

There was no stopping how his smile splayed over his lips as his hands found the swells of her breast and brushed over them in a feather-light touch. Vince had wanted to indulge himself in them from the very moment he had spotted her there in her bed, and now he was finally going to get the chance. A single hand found the zipper of her sweatshirt, and he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger before dragging it down. It took all of his willpower not to break the kiss and not to look down to see what she wore beneath her sweater. His hands got to do all the exploring as he pushed the sweater open, but not off of her. And he let out his first audible groan when he felt what was beneath. 

Samantha wore nothing but what felt like a lacey bralette beneath her sweater as the delicate fabric that dropped off to her smooth flesh greeted Vince’s fingertips. His hands moved blindly, stoking over soft skin and fingers hooked on the flimsy fabric that concealed her breasts and pulled it down. There was no holding back now, not as he could feel the heavy weight of them spill over the excuse of a hold that was the bralette. He needed to see them. 

Strong arms embraced Sam around her middle, coiling around her as Vince broke the kiss in a desperate gasp. So selfishly, he housed her up to sit just a little high on her hips so that the very swells of her cleavage were in his sight. His lips came together in a satisfied hum, his hands gripping at the bralette in both hands to fully rid her chest of it before taking a breast in each hand. Large hands kneaded at her flesh, groaning when Samantha’s breasts seemed to overflow from his hold. 

They weren’t better than he had imagined. So full, so soft, and so tempting to his mouth as Vince leaned in to place sloppy open-mouthed kisses over the swells of her breasts. Then his lips travelled down, his tongue lapping over a single pert nipple before he was taking it fully in his mouth. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of his mouth, or the stroke of his tongue that coaxed it out of her, but with his mouth consuming her breast, Samantha’s lips parted in a soft sweet gasp. It had Vince smiling against her flesh. But what he liked more was how her hands stoked up the back of his neck and found his curls. He could feel the gentle scratch of her manicured nails over his scalp as her fingers knitted and tugged carefully at his locks. It sent a hum of pleasure buzzing through him, one that had his hands drop to her hips to get a good grip on her. And then he flipped her, her breast falling from his mouth as her back hit the truck bed, and quaking with the impact. 

A heavy breath left him as his eyes fixated on her breast again, watching them bouse as they settled and a groan ripped up the back of his throat. Selfishly, he wanted to fuck them. To press them together with his hands and thrust his cock between them until he came. And he would unload all over them and watch it drip down over each swell. 

The thought alone made his cock throb. 

But that’s not why they were there - and he was done holding back. 

“You’ve got such a great body,” he complimented her in a rush of words that sounded more like one as his hands traced the curve of her waist and settled at the top of her tight black leggings.  

He gripped the fabric in his fists and tugged them down the length of her legs, only to hit her sneakers. Two kicks of her feet and they were gone, leaving her in her panties and her unzipped sweatshirt beneath him. Then, he reached up, pulling off his own sweatshirt, baring his chest to her, and shivering in the breeze. Vince’s mouth opened to apologize for the cold, but his words were unspoken as Samantha leaned forward, her lips kissing over the toned muscles of his abdomen. 

And he just smiled. 

That was the beauty of sex. It didn’t need to be learned or taught. It was all instinct. Once he had gotten her caught up in the moment, in the rush of the feeling, Samantha knew exactly what to do. Biting his lip, Vince’s head lulled back. He relished in the feeling of her sweet pink lips against his skin, and every breath that washed over him. But there was a risk in taking his take with her. At any moment, another truck could roll up, and he intended to get back to the house long before Miles woke up. 

Reaching out with one hand, he took hold of the third and final blanket while the other stroked back Samantha’s hair from her face. “Lay back, Princess.” 

She didn’t hesitate, and Vince positioned himself fully between her thighs. His hands made quick work of the blanket, draping it over his back and leaning in close so that it fell over them both to give them some semblance of warmth. Then his hands were on her body once more. He stroked down over her thighs before dipping down into the heat between them. The skin of Samantha’s inner thigh was so delicately soft that Vince was almost worried that the hardworking callouses on his palms might hurt her. But any thought of worry was gone the moment a single finger stroked over the damp fabric at the crotch of her panties. 

“You’re so nice and wet for me,” his words were a growl as his fingers settled on her clit. This time, he didn’t just tease her with the very knowing of where it was. Vince pressed into the sensitive nerves, stroking her slowly and coaxing her into a heavy breath and the careful buck of her hips. 

“Would you like me to take these pretty little panties off?” 

Nothing more than Samantha’s desperate nods met his question, and Vince didn’t make her wait. The careful rise of her hips helped him as his finger hooked along the thin fabric and dragged it down. She was already such a mess for him, and he’d barely touched her. Vince could see it in how her face softened for him and felt it against his fingers as he slipped her panties from her ankles and took them in his fist. He gripped them tight for a moment before he shoved them into the pocket of his sweatpants. 

As to not to lose them - or maybe to keep them as a souvenir. 

He smiled at the thought of getting to keep them. Of getting to bring them back to St Louis and keeping them in his own drawer. And it had fully consumed him as he leaned in close and let his hand settle between her legs again. Bare for him, he could feel everything. From her clit to the slickness of her core, he stroked her with a single finger. Gathering that sweet arousal around his index finger before he eased it into the tightness of her cunt. 

His thrust was slow, careful as he eased into her inch by inch until he was knuckle deep. 

“That’s it, princess,” he encouraged her in a hit whisper that washed over her face as she let out a silent moan, “doing so good for me, you want another?”

He met her eyes that seemed to flutter with every careful pump of his fingers, earning a sweet, “Yes, yes, Vince, please,” from her lips. 

“Ready?” he asked her, his words as slow and agonizing as his last thrust with his single finger. And before she could answer, his middle finger had joined in on the plunge, stealing her words and sending a moan into the air. 

Birds in the trees above flew in a flock from the treetops, startled by the noise. “Easy there, Princess, it might not just be me and you out here,” Vince cautions her, his eyes meeting hers and he feels her core flex around his fingers. “Oh?” his head cocked. “You like that? The idea of being caught? That someone could walk out of the trees or drive in from the main road and catch us here. My fingers knuckle deep in your pretty little pussy.”

Each word coaxed out a heavy breath, and her walls squeezed around his fingers in a warm embrace that left Vince salivating. He was so close to making her come already. And it was a good thing too. The tension between them over the last two days had left him on edge. Once he had her, he knew he wouldn’t last as long as he would like to with her. 

“You ready for my cock, princess?”

Samantha let out a weak hum and reached out her hands to tug at his sweatpants that already hung low on his hips. The tips of her fingers grazed over his flesh, tracing over the angles of his toned body as she brought them down just enough that his cock sprang free. Vince had half hoped to see a shocked expression take her features, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think his cock wasn’t the first she’d seen. He had been one or more unsolicited dick-pic away from that honor, but he was going to be the first of what really mattered. 

Vince reached out for the almost forgotten box of condoms, crushing the already battered cardboard in his hold as he fished for the foil package with two fingers. Securing it, he tossed the box aside again, spilling the contents in the truck bed, before ripping open the package and working the thin latex onto his cock. Choking back a groan at the stroke of his own hand, Vince asked, “You watch porn?”

She didn’t shy away from answering him now that her mind was dizzy with lust. “Yeah,”

“Forget everything you’ve ever watched for a second, and just enjoy the moment, the feeling.”

Vince had pressed the top of his cock to the narrow entrance of her core before he could finish speaking. The very pressure of the tip punctuated his words as it eased his way into the embrace of her walls. She was warm, warmer even as Vince leaned in to press his body flush against hers. All the morning cold seemed to disappear around him, the warmth of her body all so consuming as she entwined herself with his by body and limb. He could feel all of her, from how her feet dragged down the length of his lengths before hooking behind his knees to how one hand knitted in the curls of his hair while the other scratched and gripped at his back. But her hold on him, and the slow, steady and deep thrusts, were not enough to keep them anchored in place in the back of her brother’s truck. 

Reaching his hand out, Vince pressed it firmly against the cold glass window. The temperate sent a shock right through him. It was such an intense contrast to her warmth, to the pulse of her core around his cock with every one of his thrusts. He fucked her good and slow, kissing her slowly just to feel her sweet moans against his own lips as if he could taste them. And then her climax hit her, so hard he could feel every wave as it consumed her. Vince could feel her legs weaken and tremble, and her grasp on him only grew tighter, as she didn’t quite know yet how to handle the intensity of the pleasure he had brought her.

The pulling on his hair, the coaxing of her core and the squeeze of her legs around his tights brought his own soft groans as he fell into the chase of his own high. His every movement that followed was primal. The sound that left his lips uncontrollable as his thrusts hastened, and his cock twitched against her core’s insistent grasp. Pleasure strangled his final moan as his hips crashed into hers and Vince kept himself buried deep inside her cunt as he unloaded. It left him panting,  sweating, groaning, relieved as he had finally gotten what he had been craving the entire long weekend. 

Yet, he felt a sense of disappointment. He wished he could have been able to take his time with her. To really enjoy her and teach her a few things outside of being a pretty little pillow princess. 

“Fuck, I could have so much fun with you,” Vince told her in a low muttering that he was sure would become lost in the wind. And it was the truth. She had the perfect body, and Sam was still so impressionable in the bedroom. Vince wanted to be the one who walked her through all of it. To be the one who ruined every single other man for her. But she would be off to university in a few days, and he had to report to training camp. Even if he wanted her, there would be too great a distance between to satiate and desire that took him. 

Drawing out of her, Vince eased the condom from his cock and pulled his sweatpants up quickly. Fingers knotted up the end, and with little regret, he tossed it into the grass beside the road before he hunted down his clothes. The two of them moved around the truck bed, gathering their things and shrugging into their clothes in silence. That fact left worry hanging heavily in Vince’s stomach. By now, women would have complimented him on anything, everything, desperate to get inside his head after a hookup. But Sam had barely met his eyes as he stared at her breasts one last time before Sam zipped up her sweater.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, coming to stand in front of him, but she didn’t offer another word to him. Instead, she leaned in and pressed up onto her toes to place a simple kiss on his cheek, “but you might have to help me down.”

“I can do that,” Vince grinned and made that his priority. 

He jumped down from the truck bed and reached his arms out to her. Hands settled on the curve of her waist and lifted her down with ease. But he didn’t stop there. Vince wrapped one arm around her and watched her with soft eyes and an amused smile as she walked to the passenger side on weak legs. Her strides had been slow and careful, and he had been the one who did that to her. 

“Get in. I’ll take care of the rest.” Vince helped her into the passenger’s seat before closing the door firmly behind her. 

Then, he made quick work of the mess they made in the truck bed. Vince folded the blankets in on one another, hiding the stray condom that had fallen out of the box, and any traces of sex they may have left behind. They ended up in more a ball than nicely folded, and he tossed into the backseat before Vince found his seat and started up the engine just as another truck pulled into the end of the road. 

The driver, an old man, his face thick with wrinkles and his smile friendly, so Vince rolled down the window and offered a friendly wave. 

“Any luck out there this morning?”

His mind was cloudy, stuck in a bit of a daze of his own, and left confused by the stranger’s question before he watched him reach into the back of his truck for an old fishing rod. 

“No, nothing for us, though we weren’t out long,” Vince upheld the friendly conversation as he reached his arm up to stretch over the back of the seat of the truck. He patted the soft leather of the bench seat, coaxing Samantha over to lean into his side casually. His hand stroked over her arm as he spoke to the man, the conversation falling on the nice weather the day was supposed to have for fishing, but it wasn’t long before he was wishing the man luck and Vince was putting the car in reverse. 

With Sam pulled close to his side, he drove into town on the back roads in silence. Not that they really needed anything from the store, but Vince knew if they didn’t return with anything, Miles would get suspicious. 

When they arrived, Vince left Samantha in the truck and went into the store alone. He grabbed odds and ends of things. Items that he could have easily forgotten to pack for the weekend, and he even bought Samantha a box of tampons just to cover all the bases before he returned to the truck. She had turned the music on and eased back into her place by his side on the bench seat, but they continued to ride in silence. 

Vince could hear her every tired breath and the music that was just loud enough to hear but not loud enough to make out the lyrics. And when she rested her head on his shoulder, he almost groaned. The silence was getting to him, his own curiosities now eating away at him. Vince wanted to know what she was thinking, what she felt. But he was only a quick glance in the mirror from seeing that her eyes were softly closing, sleep threatening to take her as they travelled down the final stretch of road before they were back of the cabin. 

He let her flirt with the idea of sleep, but the moment he pulled into the driveway his touch had found her face. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head just enough to look up at him. Her eyes fluttered, and her smile pulled at her lips as just how close they were. And he smiled too as he whispered, “You still upset with me for scaring away your little friend?”

Her head shook slowly as she tried to look away to hide the smile that played on her lips, but his hold on her kept her in place. Days ago, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had screamed at him for what he did. Shouted, hell, he wouldn’t have put it past her if Sam had told him she hated him for what he did, but it was all very different now. 

She had no frustration in her eyes. No anger. 

“And how do you feel right now?”

Glancing back at him, Samantha could only shrug as her cheeks were the faintest shade of pink. There was a dreamy look on her face, one that Vince had seen so many times before. One of peace, one of calm and adoration. 

Lust. 

Longing. 

 Love. 

“That’s the endorphins.” His words were soft, a long hum as his hands cupped her face in his hands. “You see, this is the shit they don’t teach you about sex in school. When I fucked you, made you feel so good, it fucked with your brain chemistry. Releases Oxytocin or some shit during orgasm.” His thumb trailed down her cheek oh so slowly, drawing her into a heavy breath that left her bottom lip quivering. Vince stroked it slowly. “Fucking dangerous thing it is. It’s why every time a man touches you from here on out, and he doesn’t get you there, you’re going to think of me. When you touch yourself, you’re going to think of me. And when you do, fucking call because I want to see the mess I’ve fucking turned you into.”

Samantha’s features softened, her eyes wide and her mouth agape in awe at his words. There was nothing she could say to change the effect he would have on her for the rest of her days. A little piece of her would always belong to him. It went beyond the physicality of it all, and Vince fucking loved that. 

His thumb stroked over his lower lip one last time, knowing that just touching like that in the driveway was too great a risk, but he wanted more. Vince leaned in and kissed her hard. He wanted to taste her tongue later in the day when he wanted to fuck her, but could only reminisce about the feeling. His fingers nearly knotted in her hair. So close to drawing her in and fucking her in the truck cab, but the possibility of being caught by Miles there left an uncomfortable knot in his gut. Yet, he didn’t pull back until he knew her lips would swell from the kiss. But it might have been too late. 

The front door was the first thing he looked at when Vince pulled back from Samantha, his hands still cradling her face. And his body flooded with panic when he saw the door wide open, and Miles making his way out the door, his eyes fixated on the gravel beneath his feet. The truck cab filled with a series of rushed curses as they rushed to put as much distance between themselves as possible. Samantha went as far as to press her back against the passenger side door. There the both of them stayed, panting, watching as her brother looked up towards the truck and he smiled. 

Miles hadn’t seen a thing. 

[master-gatherer]

Between yesterday and today. Not terrible, but considering next week is a holiday AND I'm gonna be working overtime on the weekend, I'm probably not going to be able to make much progress next weekend.

It is what it is I guess.

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[bahablastplz]

SKZ Recs (NSFW)

As a chronic fanfic reader, I have a lot of recommendations. So, these are the ones I think about the most. All of them include smut, so they're 18+. Red text indicates fics on AO3. Go support these amazing authors!! Enjoy!! <3

Bang Chan 

The SKZ house @writeonwhiskey (Chan x reader x Hyunjin…SKZ but make it a frat… and also sexy) 

Silent cry @j-0ne25 (Fake dating/friends to lovers, live laugh hurt comfort… emphasis on the hurt) 

Love is intuitive @skzonthebrain (forbidden love and angst… so emotional and loving <3) 

Kinktober Day 8 @dreaming-medium (breeding, best friend, fake dating, so sweet and spicy) 

Summer in Seoul @writeonwhiskey (strangers to lovers, summer love, spicy and romantic) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

It’s cold out @therhythmafterthesummer (roommate Chan is going through his rut… oops there’s more ABO on this list than I realized sorry not sorry) 

Bodyguard: The first guard @skzdarlings (A sequel to the bodyguard, an ongoing work that has elements of enemies to lovers and great, in-depth world building and character development)

However you want it, lover-lover @cbini (you ask your bf Chan to step on you after watching spicy edits of him on tiktok omg)

More than just friends @kwanisms (roommate Chan is entering his rut... he's usually able to control himself but this time you're ovulating. sprinkle some brat taming in here as well and it's so delicious)

Lee Know 

The Experience Project @leeknowsallyoursecrets (Enemies to lovers Lee Know, really good plot and relationship building!) 

Sanguis Limerence @jl-micasea-fics (Vampire OT8, Lee Know x Reader x Chan, SUPER good world building, especially in their sequel with the backstories… I was so invested. And it’s super hot)

Barb Wired Brat @roseykat (BDSM Lee Know with reader going into subspace… awakened things in me) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Well Shit @2chopsticks2eyes (Brother’s best friend, inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers and fwb… literally so good) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, complete series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and GREAT smut. One of my all time favs)

rsvp @cbini (teasing dom vampire boyfriend Minho and you get the punishment you deserve... brat taming and so so so sexy like it's insane)

Changbin 

 The accidental acquisition of sugar @skzdarlings (accidental sugar daddy Changbin x reader that’s absolutely hilarious with great smut) 

Valentine’s series ‘do you really think you’re in a position to give orders’) @skzdarlings (forbidden love/romeo & juliet style but with gun play… um this was so hot tho) 

Close your eyes (...And count to seven) @MysteryBird (Possessive gang leader bf! Changbin that you’re trying to piss off by sleeping with the other members… 100k+ words and so delicious) 

Hyunjin 

Praise kink Hyunjin @dreaming-medium (A kinktober fic, enemies to lovers detective Hyunjin… absolutely delicious) 

Snowed In @moonjxsung (really artistic, heartfelt, and beautifully written)  

Jury’s still out @straywrds (rivals to hooking up/hate sex… super spicy and hot) 

Dressing down @jl-micasea-fics (shopping trip with best friend Hyunjin turns out spicy ahh the chemistry) 

Four of wands @straywrds (beautifully crafted story I was so immersed in!! witch Hyunjin and sex magick, the characters have so much depth! crazy tension)

Han 

Watch your six  @dreaming-medium (sensory deprivation kinktober ah this is engraved in my brain) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybeee think about this every day) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, complete series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and GREAT smut. One of my all time favs)

Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion (SIMP) @leeknowsallyoursecrets (Spin-off series to the experience project! Jisung x reader enemies/academic rivals to lovers in which they’re both anonomously sexting each other on discord without knowing who’s on the other end of the screen!!! top tier level tension)

Felix 

The bodyguard @skzdarlings (Forced proximity, enemies to lovers, had me SUPER invested and made me cry) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybee think about this every day) 

Snap out of it @2baabbies (Felix gives you the option to either go home with your shitty boyfriend or go home with him at the end of the night ahhh!!) 

Seungmin 

Bet on it @skzonthebrain (Academic rivals, enemies to lovers and such good tension/chemistry) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

Seungmin + hairpulling @straykeedz (kinktober fic, best friend Seungmin finds out you have a thing for hairpulling and can't get you out of his head... this is taken straight from the deepest depths of my fantasies i s2g)

no nut november @gimmeurtmi (this whole nnn series is fantastic but seeing Seungmin lose his composure because of his breeding kink does something for me)

august is a fever @seungminheart (mean dom Seungmin... you don't think he is really into you so you see how far you can push him/I love mean dom Seungmin and I think this fic does it just right)

I.N. 

Lavender boy @hyunsvngs (A/B/O Alpha jeongin… super sexy and great dynamics) 

Clueless @jeongin-lvr (inexperienced big dick I.N. that just wants to make reader feel good… also omg he’s so hot in this pls) 

Better and better @seungminheart (sharing a bed, best friend Jeongin, amazing banter, soft dom Jeongin, brat taming, every trope from my hopes and dreams)

Third leg? @beesspacedotorg (huge dick alpha Innie... some brat taming, great banter and dynamics and sexy)

OT8 

Sharing a bed series @skzdarlings (Best trope ever and they really do it justice) (Chan's is linked but you should read all 8)

Sharing is caring @skzms (Minsung x reader x OT8… really well written spice) 

Fake texts @thefantasyden (I swear these are like crack I read them every single time) 

Kinktober23 @roseykat (one of the first SKZ blogs that I started reading that really brought me deep into the fandom… My fav from this is Table Manners and Bible Studies, and it has a part 2)

All Bark no Bite @doitforbangchan (Main pairing is Chan x Reader with some OT8, it's an ABO au with some really good spice)

Masterlist

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry | Aemond Targaryen

Part One (potentially ??? xoxo - indecision)

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop who could be impliedly understood as ms Alys ;o

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (m receiving), talk of sex, masturbation, bad words, very little dialogue, I wrote this in 2 hours and it is barely edited so it may be shite. guys. please tell me if I've missed a warning, luv u xoxo

Author's note: here's a wee smth while I get my head around part 2 of Infernal Desires! the idea I had for this fic was for a multi-part but idk depends on how we're feeling so there will potentially be a part 2 ;D. kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Whatever pretence was in play, you would be the first to admit that you were tired of it. A loveless marriage was nothing less than what you had expected–a union that was entirely for show and born from the political motives of your families. It was only expected.

You tried to convince yourself that you were content with such an arrangement. It suited your ambitions, meant that you could be left alone to do as you please while quenching the thirst to make your family proud. 

Somehow, despite your hesitance and despite your husband’s ignorance toward you, the one thing that you knew you would never truly hold had become your greatest wish. 

The reality was such that you found yourself longing for affection.

Preferably-of course-your husband’s affection. 

Between the forced smiles put on for expectant eyes, the brush of your shoulders whenever you sat next to each other at the dining hall and the gentle caresses at the small of your back until his touch was hurriedly removed once you were again behind closed doors, you had grown an incessant, consuming desire for the prince you were married to. 

Aemond was a man of great beauty and strength. While many had chastised his singular eye and told tales of his ruthless temper, Aemond had grown to be well respected and the object of many lustful gazes.

Eight months had passed since Aemond became your husband and you, his wife. Eight months of tense silences, lonely nights in a bed you had expected to share and eight months of nothing but false affections that were nothing but a performance.

You had considered yourself a romantic right until you felt the loneliness and realities of this marriage. Your naive desires to feel the throes and excitement of love that you read about were subject to a rude awakening the moment you became disgustingly aware of your husbands lack of it. 

Aside from the night of your wedding, Aemond seemed to avoid your bed as if it would burn his skin. Until two months ago, when you had pushed aside the sting on your pride and all but demanded he spare some time for you. 

Friends had warned you that it was hardly special. But if he was kind enough, as few of their husbands were from time to time, he would give you a chance to experience some of the pleasures of your body.

Aemond was hardly a passionate lover, it had seemed. With instruction to simply lift your skirt, he had you laying with your hips at the foot of the bed where he silently and effortlessly fucked his seed into your womb. It had not yet borne fruit despite his fortnightly visits. 

It was never enough. Your body had eventually begun to crave more. In a very raw and unmistakably physical need to find the release it had been denied for so long. Despite Aemond’s assurance on the first nights of your marriage that neither of you were to have any interest in whores or paramours, words and whispers of the prince’s capabilities had picked up over recent weeks and you came to understand that if only Aemond had wanted to, he could give you exactly what your body desired.

Even if you had the same freedoms as men when it came to taking on lovers outside of your marriage, you couldn’t. Admittedly, you’d developed a taste for luxury - a taste only for your husband. Or at least, the fantasy version of Aemond that you had concocted within your head. 

And when your hand made its way between your thighs in the small hours that followed restless nights, the only thoughts that existed in your mind were those of him. Of all the things you had hoped Aemond would guide you to discover about your bodies. Of all the things that you had read about in the books you’d sneak out to find. 

Sometimes, you wondered if Aemond thought of you while he touched himself. The idea of it often crossed your mind and you had since convinced yourself that you had been driven insane. 

Realistically, you knew that the arrangement you had with Aemond was out of necessity. Nothing more. But you were much like him in certain ways - hungry for what you know you deserve, relentless and cunning. But you had little patience left. 

The moment you had decided to make your worth known to your husband wasn’t one you could place a finger on. It was a gradual thing - as you had gently started shifting your attention past the lovers in your books who no longer calmed your lustful needs. 

You wanted him more fiercely than you had wanted for anything in your lifetime.  

So you gently lowered the neckline of your dresses to highlighted the bump of your collarbone, had your maids do your hair so that it framed your face perfectly while accentuating the shape of your neck. You had soon foregone the paler tones your mother had you wear, colours that announced your purity and innocence. The colours that you wore were deeper, richer and more sultry against the tone of your skin. 

With difficult ignorance of the nervous, shy and pious girl your parents had raised for such a match, you forced yourself to seek out Aemond’s gaze with an extra glint in your eyes. You let your once hesitant touches linger with a newfound confidence that stole your breath away whenever Aemond would escort you to and from the dining hall. On the days Aemond would spare time to walk you through the gardens, you made an effort to speak of more than just the weather. 

At times, you felt uneasy about the act you were putting on. Were the prospect of his affections so important to you that you forced yourself to act so differently? In your mind, being a seductress was never so dishonourable as many made it seem but you had hoped this act would pay off in a matter of a few weeks. 

Your impatience becomes painful when you have every other desire at your beck and call. 

But you were mistaken. If anything, Aemond’s indifference had only grown. And at each hardened glance from your head to toe, at each moment in which he continued to ignore you or look past you, your resolve weakened.  

Aemond could not have found you unattractive - this much you knew as a fact. You knew from the way he used to look at you with a gentle fire in his eye and made sure that your every other need had been taken care of. From the way he clenched his jaw in restraint when you would lay back for him, how his grip on your hips and your thighs left marks on your skin as he fucked into you - even if there was little more than a duty being performed. After all, he was still just a man. 

So despite the fact that your efforts were shaping up to be of no use, you didn’t give up. You started taking breakfast in your chambers, requesting Aemond to join you when he was available, dressed in your softest, prettiest nightgowns instead of having dressed up already. 

You made a show of it, unashamed and brazen. Almost surprisingly, Aemond enjoyed the dark cherry more than you could have hoped. There were subtle changes in the way his eye would linger over the dip of your neck, the way his wordless gaze would follow the deep red that would stain and spill from your lips as you bit into a cherry from the bowl of fruit that you shared.

Your conversations have always been comfortable. Aemond may be a brooding, arrogant hardass sometimes but he was always respectful and kind to his you in the time you shared together as husband and wife. But now he would falter, his words getting caught as he watched you gently sucking off the juice of a cherry from your fingers, humming gently as you glance at him with false nonchalance mixed with your best bedroom eyes. 

And it did drive him insane. Aemond had never seen this side of you, much unlike the quiet, prudish woman he had married. But then again, had he ever truly known you? Either way, you had caught the amusement in his gaze and the way he challenged you wordlessly with a shift of his hips and gentle smirk.

Much to your disappointment, little else changed. Nearly three weeks had passed and Aemond had given you little more than those lingering looks and a few stolen breaths. He had at once withdrawn and become increasingly lacklustre, and when you had even tried asking him about his training with Ser Cole, you received no more than curt, blunt answers at each try. 

It had become too much by the time you had retired to your chambers alone once again. The day had been long and uneventful, Helaena had been by your side for most of it which had been nice but you were in no mood to fake an interest in sifting through the performative duties of a princess. 

In all honesty, it was frustrating. You were starting to wear thin on the constant nagging of absolutely everyone about your lack of a child. It has been almost a year and you have failed to perform your duty as a wife, almost a year and you have not missed a single cycle, almost a year and you haven’t blessed the prince with an heir. 

Because, as a lady whose name you hadn’t cared enough to remember had not-so-gently uttered to you over her dreadful playing of a stringed instrument; what was the point of being his wife if you didn’t bed him well enough to carry his child? 

You had, in truth, been distracted. And the idea of carrying the child of a man who only paid you the necessary courtesies out of politeness and good manners made you feel ill. 

Queen Alicent, although you could tell she was inclined to agree with the lady, had placed a gentle yet firm hand on your bicep to calm the anger that had clearly taken you over. With a glare at the loose-lipped woman, you quickly picked up the handkerchief you’d been attempting to embroider and excused yourself. 

If anyone had noticed your absence from the evening meal, which the Queen had always insisted upon eating together, nobody bothered to say anything. 

Over an hour had passed, tossing around in your bed and your eyes stinging from embarrassment. Why was Aemond so averse to you? Why would he stare at you as if you set his blood on fire in one moment and then glance straight past you in the next? What had you done that convinced him so strongly that you were not even worth trying to be familiar with? 

The gods had surely intended to punish you for something in a past life if they were so adamant to trap you in a marriage with a man who would much rather be anywhere other than with you. 

You may as well be strangers to each other. 

The ache of your anger led you straight out of your own chambers and towards his. You spared Ser Tunsley, the knight standing at your door, a harsh glare and snapped at him to give you your privacy otherwise you’d have him stripped of his cloak. He was a timid one, you noticed, and with a nod he stood back, his eyes staring straight past your shoulder in an attempt not to stare at the thin nightgown that clung to your skin. 

It was an outrageous hour and you were of half a mind in your frustration to thank the gods for the empty hallways. In fact, you noticed the lack of an armoured man at the door to Aemond’s chambers and wondered if maybe the prince was elsewhere. 

You stepped towards the door, curiosity peaked at the sound of shifting, followed by some voices and you hesitated. Frowning, you ran through what you would say if Aemond opened the door - there was nothing that would make sense. 

As you stepped closer to the door, a soft light spilled out and you noticed that it was, in fact, just barely ajar. 

It was unlike Aemond to leave his door open and you were certain he would question you sneaking around the hallways in the small hours, dressed only in underclothes. But you ignored the rational voice at the back of your mind and took silent steps so close to the door that it would be cowardly to back out now. 

You couldn’t hear the voices anymore, ears ringing as you held your breath and gently nudged the door while muttering a silent prayer that it wouldn’t make a sound. 

Shock first. Then fear, anger, desire and an all consuming jealousy as you took a moment to understand what you were seeing.  

Aemond was resting at the end of his bed, naked and resting his weight lazily on one arm, his free hand tangled in the dark hair of a slender woman, just as bare as him, kneeling at his feet and moving her head in an up and down motion. Aemond guided her movements with a firm hand, his head tipped back gently. 

He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You’d never seen him without it–he never let you. His eye was firmly shut and you caught the glint of the sapphire in place of the other that was stolen from him. The movements of his chest were heavy and you could hear him panting gently, lips gently parted. 

You were unable to tear your eyes off of Aemond. He looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him, under the golden hue of the lamps, his body lean and chiselled–each curve and muscle glowing under the lights. You could see his pleasure, in his expression, the tinting of his skin and the way he roughly tugged at the mystery woman’s hair. A couple strands of his own hair, usually pulled away from his face, fell forward and the flush of his cheeks were starkly pink against the silver of his hair. He let out a breathy groan, murmuring something you couldn’t quite hear as he opened his eye, dark with lust, and gazed down at the woman that was hunched over his lap. The lewd sounds of her mouth on him almost made you gasp and you thanked the gods that Aemond could not see you. Because you could not move if you tried. 

You couldn’t see anything other than the back of her head, and you were glad of it. Because you knew that seeing her face would have been too much and staying hidden and quiet would have been ten times more difficult. Despite the pressure between your thighs, the uncomfortable slick that you felt against your small clothes and the heat that rushed through you from head to toe, you glared viciously at the back of her head. 

Aemond’s breathing stuttered, a string of curses falling carelessly from his lips while he watched the woman as if he were entirely enchanted by her. Despite the fact that you couldn’t really see what she was doing, so expertly that had him in such a state, the entire thing felt obscene. And you could hear her muffled moans, the wetness and her light gagging when Aemond tightened his hold on her hair and thrusted upwards.

Your cheeks burned and your blood felt like lava coursing through your veins. The intensity of your want for him–as he was right now–made you dizzy and you drew in sharp breaths, careful not to make a sound. Because if he turned his head slightly to the left, just for a second, he would see you. You didn’t want to know the consequences. But nothing  that existed among all of the realm could force you to turn around and leave. 

Aemond’s groans were quiet and deep but they grew slightly louder than before, his breath catching as you could see him grow closer to his peak. Your thighs trembled as you pressed them together, barely thinking about how you would be able to escape after he was done–when he would surely see you watching unashamedly. 

The sounds that Aemond was making sent shockwaves straight to your wetness and as you could see his entire body grow visibly tense, hips jerking as his groans turned strained amongst grunts and whispers of just like that and fuck and—a name. 

It was your name. 

You couldn’t help but gasp, clenching around nothing, squeezing and rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve the throbbing of your clit. The woman faltered, much to your satisfaction, and she pulled her head back from him. You couldn’t see past her but her hands remained as they were, biceps moving gently as she continued to touch him. 

“Aemond-” you winced as she said his name, no bother for formality. Her voice was slightly husky and it remained sultry and smooth. “I’m not-”

Your husband’s jaw ticked, squeezing his eye shut and pushing her head down towards his hips again. “I know. Fuck–” he grunted, roughly pushing her further down, cursing as she gagged. She hummed around him. 

Suddenly, the desire in your veins became secondary to the jealousy that burned your lungs and the betrayal that caught in your throat. You knew men were not faithful creatures, and even though part of you had known Aemond had been no different–not with how you have heard the servants speak on a couple occasions–but foolishly, you had hoped that he had been a man of his word. Another naive part of you truly did believe him when he said he would have no other woman. 

Whatever she was doing, however she was doing it and no matter that it was your name that fell from his lips, Aemond was enjoying it. He was praising her–telling her she was his, telling her she was doing so well and letting himself get lost in the pleasure she was giving him. 

It was painful to watch and you cursed your body for yearning so badly for reprieve. You’d become soaked, thighs slick from where you’d dripped down. But you would be damned if you gave in and as Aemond’s hips started jerking, his strained grunts becoming desperate as he chased the peak he was nearing, you pushed yourself away from the door and ran back towards your own chambers. 

The entire scene had seared itself into your brain and you trembled as you shut yourself away in your bedchambers, ignoring whatever questions Ser Tunsley had been asking you. 

Who was that woman? You couldn’t make sense of all the questions that flooded your brain. The emotions that fought for dominance. How had they met? Was she a whore? 

Did they see you? 

Your mind replayed the way he’d groaned your name, unable to help yourself from whimpering at the memory. It didn’t make any sense. Aemond was clearly thinking about you yet he had never so much as spared you more than a heated look - he had never even given you a kiss. 

Aemond had never been so comfortable with you. Not the way he was with her. The way he let her say his name–free of his title, like she was his equal. You had only addressed him without title once, on the night of your wedding. 

You laughed. How silly this all was. 

Despite your arousal, and regardless of your hurt, you were angry. 

How dare he? Did he think so little of you? 

Did he love her? Is that why he never tried for you? 

It was infuriating. And there was little you could do about it. But nonetheless, you saw an opportunity through the tears you scolded yourself for shedding over a man who never gave you what you deserved. 

Aemond would regret it. And he’d learn that his wife was the only woman who could give him what he needs. But for now, you let yourself grieve the Aemond you had led yourself to believe was real. The man who held your hand in his and told you that while he couldn’t be the husband you wanted, he would never disrespect you so much as to let another woman into his bed. 

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 13

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.

Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.

“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.

Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.

“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.

“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.

You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.

“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.

“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”

Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”

You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.

“I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?

He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.

You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”

“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”

You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”

You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”

“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”

“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”

“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”

Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.

His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.

His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”

“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.

“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”

You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.

“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.

You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.

You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.

It was fucked up way to think.

Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.

“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.

You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”

He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”

You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.

“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”

He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.

He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…

He stopped.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.

He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.

The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?

You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.

A small price to pay.

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.

You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.

“Most important meal of the day.”

You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.

“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.

"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”

The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.

Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.

You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”

Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”

Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”

You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”

You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?

“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”

It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.

There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.

It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.

“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”

The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.

“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.

You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”

“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”

“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”

That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”

“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?

He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”

You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.

“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”

“I think your time’s up.”

Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”

“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”

Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”

“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”

“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”

“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.

Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.

You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”

“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”

“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”

“Yes,” he answered.

You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.

Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”

“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”

“It still can.”

“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”

“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”

“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.

“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”

Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”

Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.

Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”

“Because it’s safe there,” he said.

You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.

Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.

Right?

And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kaluawoo]

I guess I'm now paying for not being affected by AO3's last outage, was gonna look at some Challenges/Prompt collections there but, well. Guess not!

[boomerang109]

so i’ve maybe been avoiding looking at wwda cause i lost my atla hyperfixation and convinced myself it was a terrible fic but i just reread it and to all the readers who have complimented it, i mean the writings bad, but like i see what you mean, there’s like a real vision here? and like i still have a bunch of chapters largely pre-written (but also not enough to post cause they’re missing huge chunks since i write non-chronologically lol) but my next chapter is literally just missing one scene until i can post so i’m hopefully going to give y’all a chapter soon. literally 10 months after last time when it had taken me 355 days. so like i’m making no promises of speed cause clearly i am not a reliable poster. but even without my hyperfixation, i still love the themes i was trying to write and like. i’m gonna try to use some of my free time on it?

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi, guys! Let's talk about fandom etiquette!

👨‍🏫👨‍🏫👨‍🏫

I know a lot of you are young and perhaps have not been part of fandom spaces since the dawn of time (circa fanfiction.net) so let's talk about some dos and don'ts with fandom, so we can keep this a happy place! Please read this and reblog to get this out to people who genuinely may not know!

📕DON'T: Write reviews of fics on Tumblr, Tiktok, or other social media. Fic writers are creating these things for FREE, and did not ask you to review. This often leads to negative discourse and can even cause fic writers to take down their fics. 📗DO: Leave kudos and ONLY POSITIVE comments. Talk about only positive things on social media. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all!

Edited to add: YES, EVEN CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISCISM. If the author didn't ask for it, don't give it. Some may appreciate it, but others won't. At the very least, ask permission first.

📕DON'T: Post fic ideas or headcanons on AO3. AO3 is for posting actual fanfiction or fanart and nothing else. (What I mean by this is, I've seen posts on ao3 like "Just posting an idea that someone should write, here it is!" and that's not what ao3 is for). Edited to add: You can also post original works and nonfiction works based on fandom on ao3! 📗DO: Post headcanons and ideas on Tumblr, Tiktok, etc!

Edited to change: Okay, so I feel like there's some arguments over like...what qualifies as metafic versus something that shouldn't be on AO3? So from my understanding (correct me if I'm wrong), people DEFINITELY should not be posting just a title with no work attached, which I have seen a lot lately, nor should they be posting to search for someone else's fic. However, it seems like lists, and similar metafic are okay, as well as original content, and nonfiction.

📕DON'T: Repost entire fanfictions without permission or sell bound fanfiction. Again, this causes writers to take their fics down, and can actually cause issues with fandom because it can cause allegations of copyright infringement. 📗DO: Recommend fics you like to others by talking them up and posting links! Ask permission before you translate!

📕DON'T: Send hate to authors for writing a fic in a way you don't like or not updating enough. Again, authors are doing this for free and sending hate causes serious mental harm to authors because they are people! If you don't like it, don't read it! 📗DO: Send love to authors in forms that they are comfortable with!

📕DON'T: Shame others for their ships/fics/kinks. Fandom is supposed to be a supportive space! Judging people is taking away that safe space! 📗DO: Use the block button! Block or filter out things or people you don't like!

📕DON'T: Use AI to create art or fics. This is detrimental to the creators who work hard to create their work! 📗DO: Try making your own art or fics! Practice makes perfect!

These are just a few of the things that I've seen happening more lately, but keep in mind that if you don't like something, you don't have to interact with it and fanart and fanfiction creators are people who are doing this for free. Please make sure to respect the hard work people put in, or fandom can't exist!

(Feel free to discuss/add things as long as you're being respectful!)

[queers-gambit]

Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[dandylovesturtles]

And here it is, part 4 of the Room Fic! ...or well. part of part 4.

see, Part 4 is going to be pretty long and take me awhile, so I decided to release it on tumblr as I go, in parts. and since we're already in a numbered list, I'll go by letters now. So this is Part 4 Part A!

it's fine, it makes sense!

I'm going to release it here on tumblr in parts, and then when it's all done I'll put it on AO3, and probably do some proper editing and may add/fix some things up once the whole thing is written. So consider this a semi-WIP. but I doubt it will change much because I usually don't change things too much after I finish writing them haha

anyway, hope you enjoy!

content warnings: discussions of food issues, anxiety, aftermath of torture

also, if you're confused, start here!

-----

Raph spots the change in Leo’s train car on the way to breakfast. He stops and tries to make sense of it for a minute, before making his way to the kitchen.

Mikey is already there, as is Splinter, making some tea. “Morning!” Mikey trills, scraping some scrambled eggs into a big platter.

“Mornin’,” Raph echoes back. He meant to sound neutral at worst, but his tone still earns a worried look from Mikey.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’s wrong,” Raph says quickly. “I just… noticed Leo did some redecorating.”

“Oh, yeah…” Mikey chews on his lip. “What’s up with that?”

“I dunno, but it makes Raph uneasy.”

“What is it?” asks Splinter, looking at them each in turn. 

“Leo covered up all his windows,” Mikey tells him.

“Ah, I see.” Splinter sets cups in front of them, followed by the tea pot. “I will go check on him.”

Splinter leaves Mikey and Raph looking at each other uncertainly.

“Why would he need the windows covered?” asks Mikey. “What does he need to hide from here?”

“I dunno, Mike.” Raph sighs. “I guess he doesn’t feel safe yet.”

“But he’s home,” Mikey insists. “He’s with us.”

“Yeah,” says Raph, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I told him to talk to us if anything’s bothering him.” Mikey taps the spatula against the empty skillet. “He said he would, but…”

Raph doesn’t know if he should feel surprised or not. “He hasn’t talked to you about anything?”

Mikey scowls. “Nothing important,” he says.

Raph chuckles. “Well, you are his little brother-“

“I’m not that little!” Mikey snaps, throwing the spatula down and rounding on Raph. 

Raph’s a little surprised by the sudden anger. Sure, Mikey has been insisting on his independence more and more, but this is more aggressive than usual.

“Raph didn’t mean anything by it,” he says, but Mikey doesn’t stop glaring. Raph is saved by Splinter’s return.

“He is sleeping quite soundly,” their dad announces, hopping up onto a stool and grabbing for the platter of eggs. “He was even drooling a bit.” Splinter chuckles.

“Okay, but you’re going to ask about it when he wakes up, right?” asks Mikey.

“No.” Splinter scoops the eggs onto his plate. “If he wants to explain, he will.”

“You don’t think it’s… I dunno. Concerning?” Raph asks.

“It is not hurting anyone. And it has helped your brother sleep. There’s nothing wrong with it,” says Splinter, and it has an air of finality.

Mikey looks unsatisfied with that outcome, but he doesn’t say anything. He fixes a plate for Leo and puts it into the microwave for safekeeping.

Raph isn’t sure where he lands. All he knows is that he sure as heck isn’t going to be the one to ask about it.

-----

Leo comes in about twenty minutes later, after they’ve already finished eating. He’s still wearing his pajamas, one of his thinner throw blankets, with the Jupiter Jim logo, pulled around his shoulders like a shawl. If you focus on his torso, he almost looks like a healthy teenager, thanks to his shell.

But his hands are still drawn and thin where they grip the fabric, his wrists bony where they peek out of his sleeves. His cheeks are still sunken in and his skin hasn’t regained its usual vibrancy. And there’s a subtle shake to his movements, like the effort it took to walk from his room to the kitchen was immense.

Oh, and there’s the absolutely devastated look on his face when he sees the empty plates.

Raph remembers, again, when Leo had practically begged them not to let him sleep through breakfast in the motel, and he feels a sick twist of his stomach.

“Geez, you guys didn’t leave any for me?” he asks, and his voice sounds light and joking and completely at odds with the expression on his face. Raph is pretty sure Leo doesn’t even know he looks like that; their self-appointed face man, who usually has so much control over his appearance, not even aware of how far his heart has slipped onto his sleeve.

“We have you a plate right here,” says Mikey, scrambling to open the microwave. “Want me to warm it up any?”

“No,” says Leo a little too quickly. His eyes stay locked on the plate even as he pulls on a smile that is so carefree it’s in obvious opposition with the rest of him. “I’m sure it’s fine - thanks, Angelo.”

Mikey tries to smile as he hands the lukewarm plate of eggs and toast to Leo. Leo takes it and grabs his fork with urgency he tries not to show. His bites are so steady and evenly paced that Raph bets he could clap the beat out if he wanted to - Leo doing all he can not to look like he’s scarfing.

Okay, so Leo clearly isn’t better yet; it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Any conversations Raph wants to have about what happened in that room will have to wait. That’s okay - he can be patient.

To keep from watching too obviously, he takes out his phone. April texted the group chat twenty minutes ago, saying she had some homework to catch up on but she’ll be coming over later today. Raph’s glad, because having her around keeps them all in better spirits. He spends way longer than necessary trying to find the exact gif to use as a reaction to the news.

“Can I have another piece of toast?” Leo asks, pulling Raph’s attention from his phone. He’s already eaten the ones Mikey gave him, and about half his eggs. He taps his fork against the empty half of his plate at a quick pace.

Is this the first time Leo has actually asked for something outright? Raph isn’t sure.

Mikey grimaces and checks his phone. “Barry said to give you that much… Oh, but if you’re still hungry, you can have yogurt!”

He opens the fridge to retrieve it. Leo scowls, scooping up a bite of eggs with more force than before, the scrape of metal on porcelain.

“Barry said,” he grumbles. “How long do we gotta listen to that guy?”

“He’s doing a lot of work to help you, Leo,” says Raph. “He seems to know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“Aw, come on. It’s one piece of toast!” Leo leans toward Mikey. “It’s not gonna hurt me!”

His voice is light, almost joking, but he’s doing it again: that sad, pitiful look. Raph is sure he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

It feels impossible to deny that face. Raph looks at Mikey, who looks back at him, both of them equally unsure.

“Well…” says Mikey weakly, glancing back toward the toaster. He’s going to give in, and Raph can’t blame him. Splinter doesn’t step in to help, either. “Barry said…”

Leo smiles. It looks almost manic. “What Draxum doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he says in a singsong.

“What won’t I know?”

Raph jumps. Everyone jumps - some family of ninja they are.

Draxum stands at the foot of the escalator into their makeshift kitchen, arms folded. Raph has to hold back a sigh of relief, and he sees Mikey’s shoulders sag in turn. Leo scowls, whirling to glare at Draxum.

“Oh, come on!” he snaps. “Don’t you have other teenagers to torture today?”

“It’s Saturday,” says Draxum, crossing the room to sit at a chair. “So you have the benefit of my full attention.”

“Auuugh,” Leo groans, slumping dramatically at the table, and ignoring the effect his casual use of the word torture has had on everyone else in the room. Raph feels ill. Mikey looks it.

“Can Blue have another piece of toast?” Splinter asks, cutting through the awkward silence that follows this. He sounds almost annoyed as Leo, but as far as Raph can tell he’s letting Draxum take the lead on this one. Raph wonders if they’ve talked about it without him or his brothers around.

“Hmmm…” Draxum looks at Leo’s plate, considering. “Finish your eggs and yogurt first. If you’re still hungry, you may have another piece. But only if you’re hungry.” His expression turns even more stern, leveled directly at Leo. “Do not eat if your stomach is full. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’m not gonna make myself sick,” Leo argues.

“Hmph,” says Draxum, the short noise coated thick in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything more. Leo goes back to his rhythmic eating.

Raph grabs the empty plates from Mikey and Splinter and takes them to wash. Anything to keep himself from staring at Leo. And it’s his lucky day: there’s a whole stack of a distraction waiting for him in the sink. He runs the hot water and gets to work.

“Morning, family,” comes Donnie’s sleepy voice a few minutes later. Raph doesn’t look, and he doesn’t have to, because Donnie characteristically beelines straight for the coffee pot on the counter. Raph knew he went to his room after their talk in the lab the day before, but he’s not sure how much sleep Donnie actually got.

He leans sluggishly against the counter and checks his phone while the coffee brews. Raph keeps his focus on the dishes. Leo finishes his eggs and Draxum agrees to half a piece of toast - Mikey scrapes his stool against the floor as he jumps up to make it.

Donnie fills his mug and immediately takes a drink with no fear of scalding his mouth. Then he turns around and says, “Why’d you cover all the windows in your train car, Leo?”

Raph fumbles and drops the dish he had just pulled from the soapy water - thankfully it doesn’t break on the way down. Next to him, Mikey freezes. The toaster dings into the silence.

“Oh, that,” says Leo, nonchalant. Raph doesn’t turn around, so he has no idea if his face matches his tone this time. “I was just trying to envision how the room would look with curtains.”

“Using towels?”

“What can I say, I’m a visual guy.”

“Hmm…” Donnie pushes off the counter and disappears from Raph’s view. “Well, did you decide you want curtains?”

“Uh, yeah… I think it would really up the feng shui in the joint! And our old rooms didn’t have any windows, so too much light gets into the train car when I’m trying to sleep, anyway.”

The argument rolls so naturally off Leo’s tongue that Raph is impressed.

“Okay,” says Donnie simply. “I can install curtain rods in your room later. I actually have some leftover scrap metal that I’ve been trying to find a purpose for, and I think it will work well for this.”

“Really? You’ll do it today?”

“Yes. I don’t have anything else on my to-do list… that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Leo chuckles, but he sounds genuinely happy when he says, “Thanks, Dee.”

“And I have some leftover fabric I can sew into curtains,” Splinter adds. “You can use them until you’re well enough to find some you prefer.”

“Yeah? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, Blue! It will be a nice little project to keep my old hands busy.”

“Thanks, Dad,” says Leo sincerely. There’s some shifting around like he’s getting an ever-coveted Splinter Hug. It lasts a beat longer than those hugs normally do. Raph can’t blame his dad - if he could, he’d pick Leo up and never let him go again.

He hears a clink next to him and turns his head. Mikey has buttered Leo’s toast, but now he’s standing still, a pensive frown on his face, the butter knife clenched in his fist.

“Hey, Leo,” he says, turning around, and Raph senses danger. He turns around, too, watching as Mikey approaches the table. “Is that the only reason you want curtains?”

Leo looks between the toast and Mikey’s face. He tenses up, the empty yogurt cup crinkling in his grip. “Yeah, that’s all,” he says.

“Are you sure?” Mikey asks. He still has the half slice of toast in his hands. Leo’s eyes keep catching on it.

“What’s there to be sure about, Miguel?” he asks. “It’s just curtains. Lots of people have ‘em.”

“It’s just that you never said anything about it before. And now suddenly you need curtains today?” Mikey’s hands wave and take the toast with them - Leo’s eyes track the movement. “You told me, if anything is-“

“Michelangelo,” says Splinter sternly, making everyone jump for the second time this morning. “That is your brother’s toast - give it to him.”

Mikey seems to remember the food in his hands at that exact moment. He grimaces, quickly depositing the toast onto Leo’s plate. Leo’s face has that sad, desperate quality to it again as he grabs the toast in his fingers, like he has to make sure no one else will take it.

Mikey backs away from the table, crestfallen. The silence that ensues is uncomfortable again.

“Uh… well I think the curtains will look great!” says Raph. “Snazzy!”

Snazzy? Oh Pizza Supreme in the Sky help him.

“…Thanks, Raph,” says Leo, and takes a bite of toast. It doesn’t have the same warmth from before, and the awkwardness is thick now.

Raph dries the dish he has in his hands and sets it on the counter, pops the drain plug, and quicksteps for the doorway.

“I’m going to do my morning training!” he calls, to convince everyone, especially himself, that he isn’t running away.

-----

Leo sits alone in his dad’s recliner, staring very hard at the opposite wall and willing himself not to barf.

The piddling amount of eggs and toast he ate at breakfast would not have been enough to fill him up even three weeks ago, but now it’s stuffed his shrunken stomach. The truth is, he’d been full when he bargained with Draxum for another piece of toast, but he hadn’t been willing to let the fight go.

Besides, he doesn’t know when he’ll get food next. And better to be overfull than hungry.

He’s being dramatic, of course. He’ll get food at lunch… probably. No, definitely, because he’s home and his family would never deny him food.

Except, the way Mikey had held his toast and demanded answers about the curtains…

Leo really thought he had gotten away with it, too. No one said anything until Donnie did, and Donnie had seemed completely convinced by Leo’s casual responses! But of course Mikey saw through him. Mikey’s as keen when it comes to people as Leo himself is, but where Leo uses that insight to manipulate and obfuscate, Mikey uses it to tear open, to expose.

Leo will have to watch out, next time. He can’t let half-thought through excuses stand between him and food.

Not that they’d actually keep food from him. Because they love him and they’re his family. He’s just being weird again.

Still…

His stomach gurgles uncomfortably, and Leo grips the arms of the chair. He really doesn’t want to throw up. Besides the mess he’ll make of the recliner, and the unpleasantness of the sensation, he doesn’t want to lose everything he ate earlier. He still doesn’t know when he’s going to eat again. If he loses it here, he’ll truly have nothing.

“Blue? Are you alright?”

He turns his head. Splinter is standing by the chair, looking up at him. It occurs to Leo he didn’t actually ask if he could sit here, and he starts to push himself up.

“I can get in a beanbag-”

“No no, it’s alright,” says his dad, hopping up onto the chair to join Leo. He does it so lightly the recliner barely jostles. “You’re alright, Blue. Just breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Leo does as he’s told, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He wonders how his dad seems to know the problem without having to be told - from raising four children alone, most likely. After a moment, he feels the chair move, the back reclining and the footrest coming up under his legs. Then furry hands gently tug his blanket from around his shoulders and spread it out over his whole body.

“There we go,” says Splinter after that’s done. “Are you comfy, Blue?”

All Leo can do is give a tiny nod of his head; anything more aggravates the nausea. It seems Splinter understands, though, as he hums approvingly and hops off the chair.

“What’s wrong?” asks a new voice, and Leo grits his teeth. He doesn’t move from his spot, though.

“Blue just needs some rest,” says Splinter.

“He ate too much, didn’t he?” Draxum asks, tone irritated. “I told him not to have more unless he was actually hungry-”

“Stop,” Splinter commands, in that firm tone that can’t be argued with. “We will talk about this later.”

Leo wonders if he’s included in the we. But Draxum grumbles something under his breath and retreats, leaving Leo and his dad alone again.

“Don’t worry about him,” says Splinter, moving to turn on the projector. “I’ll deal with it. You just get some rest, Blue.”

He turns on one of his stories on low volume, then climbs back into the chair and settles in beside Leo. The soft whir of the projector, the quiet voices of the actors, and his dad’s breathing lull him into a doze. The nausea, eventually, passes.

-----

After his workout, Raph goes to check on everyone again. It’s becoming a routine.

Splinter’s loud snores lead Raph to him and Leo, both sound asleep in the recliner in the TV room. Raph would wonder how Leo can sleep through that, but he remembers that their dad’s snores used to be piped directly into his room in their old lair. If anything, this is probably nostalgic for him.

Draxum’s in the kitchen. Apparently they’re stuck with him for the weekend. Raph decides not to say anything to him and slips away before he’s noticed.

Now to find his other little brothers. He heads straight for the lab first, already knowing it’s where Donnie would be at this time of day, even if he hadn’t promised to make curtain rods for Leo.

He has to go through the same song and dance as the day before with the voice lock, but the door slides open soon enough, and Raph walks in on an argument. At least he won’t have to go searching for Mikey.

“-don’t understand why you’re so worked up about it,” Donnie is saying. He’s bent over his workbench, goggles pulled down, soldering iron in hand but not on. “It’s just curtains.”

“Because everyone’s acting like it’s not weird!” Mikey argues. He spins on his heel, looking at Raph beseechingly. “Raph, you agree with me, right!?”

“Raph just got here,” Raph says, folding his arms. “Mind filling me in on what we’re arguing about?” Even though he already has a good guess.

“We aren’t arguing,” says Donnie, at the same time Mikey snaps, “Leo, duh!” Donnie sighs, raising his goggles and turning around.

“Mikey is upset that I’m making Leo the curtain rods he asked for.”

“I’m not upset about the curtain rods! But you’re all acting like this is totally normal!”

“Curtains are normal!”

“Leo asking for the curtains is not normal,” Mikey presses. “What does he even need them for!? We live underground!”

“He complained about the light coming through the windows.”

“And he never thought to mention it once over the months we’ve been living here? Come on, Donald, use your brain!”

“Excuse you, I am always using my brain-”

“Leo’s got insomnia, Mikey,” Raph interjects. “Maybe a totally dark room helps him sleep better.”

“He had insomnia in the old lair, too,” Mikey retorts. “And he’s so tired right now all he does is sleep! He was sleeping in the TV room when I came in here!”

Raph doesn’t have a response for that. And the thing is, he thinks he has an idea why Leo wants to block out his windows, and it has nothing to do with his insomnia. But he doesn’t know how much to tell Mikey now. Not without bringing up the security footage.

Maybe Donnie has the same thought, because when Raph glances his way their eyes lock. 

Of course, Mikey notices. Because Mikey is just as observant as Leo, when it comes to people.

“You guys know something,” he says, looking between them.

“No,” says Donnie, too fast.

Mikey pouts at him. “Donald.”

“Leo hasn’t told us any more than he’s told anyone else,” says Raph.

“But you know something. How could you…” His eyes go wide. “The security footage. Donnie copied it all.”

“Well, I did,” Donnie agrees, “but-”

“You guys watched it, didn’t you?” Mikey asks, but it’s more like an accusation.

“No,” says Raph, and now he’s the one who says it too quickly.

Mikey squints at him, then looks back at Donnie, weak link that he is. “Donnie, did you watch that security tape?”

“I did…n’t,” he says, characteristically unconvincingly. Raph groans.

“I knew it!” Mikey lunges for Donnie’s computer, and it’s only Donnie’s battleshell arms that stop him from getting to the keyboard. “Let me see it too!”

“Mikey, stop!” says Raph, coming and putting a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. He winces when it’s shrugged off. “We’re not gonna watch the video.”

“Why not!?” Mikey demands, ripping himself out of Donnie’s metal arms and jumping back from both of them. “Why can’t I see it!? You both got to!” He looks between them with wild eyes, and then his face falls. “It’s because I’m the youngest, isn’t it?”

“No,” says Raph. “It’s because we both decided not to watch any more for Leo’s privacy.”

“For Leo’s privacy?” Mikey doesn’t look convinced. “Raph, he’s hurting! What if what’s on those videos can help?”

“What if watching them hurts him more?” Donnie defends. “He’ll find out we watched them, and then what?”

“He’d understand!”

“Would he?” Donnie sounds doubtful, and Raph can’t help but doubt it, too.

Even Mikey falters. He’s quiet a moment, wrapping his arms tight around his middle.

“...I don’t want him to suffer,” he says finally. “I want to help him.”

“We all wanna help him,” says Raph.

Mikey turns his eyes on Raph, and they’re full of fear and doubt and uncertainty. “You won’t even talk to him,” he says. It’s damning and cold and worst of all, true.

Raph takes a shaky breath, trying not to show his broken heart. “Listen. All Raph’s saying is, it’s barely been three days since we got Leo back home. Let’s give him time. Hopefully he’ll open up about all this stuff on his own.”

“...Fine. I won’t watch the video,” says Mikey. But he steels his expression, defiant. “But I’m going to keep trying to help him.”

“Just don’t push him, Mikey-”

“I won’t! I know what I’m doing.” He gives them a smile, but it’s weak compared to his usual. “Trust me, guys. I’ve got Dr. Feelings on my side!”

He turns and leaves the lab, the door sliding shut with a reverberating shunk behind him. 

Donnie slumps in his chair. “At least it’s not Dr. Delicate Touch.”

Raph laughs at that. It’s about all he can do.

-----

They feed Leo lunch. Of course they do. He doesn’t know why he keeps thinking they might not.

Of course, Draxum is still there, looking over his shoulder like a warden to make sure Leo doesn’t eat so much as a bite more than he’s meant to. It makes the whole experience stressful, and Leo is ready to crash again as soon as it’s over.

(Is this all his life is now? Long periods bogged down in exhaustion, only broken by the reminder that food is always controlled by someone else.)

He hasn’t been dozing for long this time when a shout echoes through the lair, grabbing his attention.

“Hey guys!”

“April!” yells Mikey, springing up from the beanbag he was sitting in. He’d been there for a while now, looking intently at his phone, but Leo never asked. Probably a new game or something. “Come on in!”

She enters the living room, a bag with a familiar comic store logo hung over her arm. She gives Mikey a one-armed hug before making her way around the chair to hold the bag out to Leo.

“Here you go!” she trills. “I picked it up as soon as I got done with my homework.”

Leo takes it, baffled. He reaches into the bag, gripping something rather large and hard-covered; pulling it out reveals…

“…The Jupiter Jim Sixtieth Anniversary Comic Special!?” Leo cries out loud. He lays it in his lap, reverently brushing the cover with his fingers. “It came out!?”

“Uh, yeah, today.” April laughs. “Don’t you remember? You made me set, like, three different reminders.”

Leo stares at the comic book, feeling a strange sort of disconnect. He can remember when he thought about this comic coming out once a day, at least - he’d been counting down the days from the preorder. But… he actually hasn’t thought about it once since…

At some point, he stopped looking forward to the comic. Because he didn’t think he would be here to read it.

But he is here. He’s alive. Time is still moving forward, and the proof is his long-awaited comic book, finally in his hands.

(Maybe his life still has a few good things to look forward to.)

Leo may be tired of crying, but crying isn’t tired of him - the tears come on hot and fast as he processes all of it at once. The grief at what was almost lost and the impossible relief that it wasn’t.

He rubs furiously at his eyes and sniffs aggressively. Then he looks up at April with the best smile he can manage and holds out his arms.

“Thanks, April.”

“Of course!” She beams, not commenting on the tears, and gives him a hug that is tight and warm and everything he wants. “Now you don’t have to keep texting me about it.”

Leo laughs as he lets go. It’s still a little watery, but she doesn’t comment. “Well what are we waiting for? Wanna read it together?”

“Uh, duh!” April shoves him to the side without any force and settles in next to him on the chair. “I heard they brought back all the old comics characters for this!”

Leo nods excitedly, eyes rising to meet Mikey’s. “How about you, Mikester? We can do the voices!”

Even though he knows his voice won’t hold out for more than a few pages.

“Oh yeah!” says Mikey. “Just let me-”

He looks down at his phone, and Leo catches it as his expression changes - something on the screen taking his attention and causing him to furrow his brow.

“Aaactually,” he says, looking back up with a forced smile. “I have… something I have to do. Somewhere else! But you guys have fun!”

And then he disappears down the escalator toward their train cars.

Leo watches him go, then turns back to look at April. She’s craned her neck to watch, too, a worried pinch to her eyebrows behind her glasses.

It clears up when she catches Leo looking. “Welp. Guess it’s just you and me, then!”

Leo rubs his fingers over the cover again. His desire to read it disappeared with Mikey. Donnie’s busy, Raph’s avoiding him, and now Mikey has more important things to do.

At least April is here. He worms himself a little more solidly against her warmth and hopes he doesn’t drive her away, too.

“Let’s do something else for now,” he says. “Save this bad boy for when we can all read it together.”

April’s eyes go wide. “You sure? I don’t think the guys would mind…”

“Uh, no, Donnie would definitely kill me if I read anything with Atomic Lass before him.” Leo gently sets the comic aside. “Besides, how are we gonna do the voices with just two of us?”

“What, you’re saying I can’t handle it?” April asks, a challenge in her voice. “I bet I could do a one-woman show.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that!” Leo laughs, and it’s only because April is here that it’s genuine and not forced. “But I don’t think I could stay awake for the whole thing, anyway.”

“Well… fine.” April relents. “Anything you wanna do instead?”

“Mmm…” He hands her the remote. “It’s been awhile since we judged people on Say Yes to the Dress.”

“Ooo, you are so right!” April flips on the projector and starts loading up the episodes. “Hold on, let me find where we left off.”

Soon, the sounds of over-dramatic reality TV fill the room. Leo shifts until his head is tucked under April’s chin, and she scratches her fingernails over his shell as they watch. They give their opinions on the dresses and jeer the catty friends and family members.

It feels so normal. The most normal Leo’s felt since he woke up in a room that was nothing but white.

It proves to him that things can be normal.

(But still, in the back of his mind, he wonders when his next meal will be.)

-----

Raph isn’t sure how many more tense dinners his family can survive.

They’re eating beef stew, partly so Leo doesn’t feel like the odd one out with his soup. Except he’s still the odd one out, because they have big chunks of beef and veggies while he has mostly broth with easy to swallow carrots, and some more egg for protein.

Raph hates eating in front of him. It feels like rubbing it in. But would taking their food and leaving him to eat alone be any better?

Probably not, because Draxum would still be watching him. And that’s the biggest source of tension.

Draxum is sitting at the table like the rest of them, but he might as well be looming over Leo’s shoulder. Leo himself stays hunched over his bowl of soup like he thinks it’s going to be snatched away at any moment, eating with quick, furtive movements, his eyes darting to Draxum each time.

It’s the exact opposite of his measured eating from this morning, and even more unsettling.

April is here, thank the Pizza Supreme, and she’s trying to keep the conversation going so they don’t all dwell on the bad vibes from Leo’s direction. Only Splinter is biting, though. Raph tries, of course, but…

He’d take fighting a villain a million times over this.

“Oh yeah, Donnie, Leo said you and Splints are making him curtains for his train car,” says April, grabbing Raph’s attention. “How’s that going?”

Across the table, Mikey’s expression turns conflicted. He focuses his eyes on his food and doesn’t catch Raph watching.

“Oh, it’s going well,” says Donnie, “but I didn’t have enough spare metal to finish. I’ll go to the scrapyard tomorrow and see what I can scrounge up.”

“Hmm… I do not like the idea of you going alone,” says Splinter hesitantly. “We do not know if those people will come back.”

No one has to ask what people he’s referring to. Still, Donnie looks irritated.

“Papa, it’s just the scrapyard,” he argues. “I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

“Still…”

“I’ll go with him!” says Mikey suddenly, raising his hand to volunteer. “Then he won’t be alone. Buddy system!” He slaps his raised hand down on Donnie’s shoulder. 

“Ow,” says Donnie in a flat tone, reaching up and shoving him off. “Despite the unnecessary assault on my person, I’m amenable to Micheal accompanying me.”

“What’s “amenable”?” Leo asks in a stage whisper. 

(It’s the most like himself he’s sounded all day.)

“I think it’s what you say at the end of a prayer,” Mikey stage whispers back.

(Raph can help his smile. He hides it behind his napkin.)

“It means I’m fine with it,” Donnie snaps. “None of you read my Word of the Day texts, do you?”

“Only ‘cause it’s words no one uses,” Leo scoffs. “Seriously, who even uses words like “sanctimonious”?”

“Lots of people!”

“Lots of nerds?”

Donnie glares at him. “You are so lucky we’re having a nice dinner right now, Nardo.”

Leo snorts and refocuses on his soup. He has a big, cocky grin on his face, and it’s all so normal that Raph feels something unknot in his chest. Maybe, Leo really is starting to get better. 

And then Splinter says, “I also need to go out tomorrow… It’s been so long since we got groceries, I couldn’t even eat my usual microwave burrito for lunch!”

And just like that, the normalcy is ripped away again.

Leo’s eyes snap up, locking on their dad, unblinking. His knobbly fingers press tighter around his bowl, pulling it closer to him like he’s scared someone will snatch it away.

“We’re running out of food?”

He sounds so scared that Raph can’t stop himself before he’s reaching over. Just to put his hand on Leo’s shoulder, to give him a hug, if he wants. Anything he needs to calm down, to not look so terrified.

But Leo must misread the action, because he jerks away, gripping the bowl impossibly tighter, eyes blown out wide and a just noticeable tremble in his shoulders. Like he’s scared of Raph.

Raph pulls his hand back without making contact and hunches in his chair, as far away as he can get from Leo without leaving the table. Or maybe he should just get up and leave. How can he be around his little brother when he’s scared of him like this?

“Ah, no,” says Splinter, and this has finally broken his easy-going tone. “There is still plenty of food, Blue, don’t worry.”

“…Hah. Right. Of course there is,” says Leo.

His voice is high and reedy, his face twitching like it’s trying to force itself back into the big smile from earlier but just doesn’t know how to move its muscles. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

Splinter reaches out hesitantly and gives Leo a pat on the arm. Leo flinches, his grip on his bowl still tight, and Splinter retreats again.

“Hey, Pops,” says Raph, drawing attention off Leo. “I can go with you tomorrow.” 

They can get more food with more hands.

“Oh, thank you, Red,” says Splinter, relieved. “That will make things much easier to carry.”

“Sure,” says Raph. Then he upends the rest of his stew into his mouth and swallows it all as fast as he can before standing up.

“Welp, I’m done with dinner so I’m going to get a workout in before bed night everyone!”

And then he’s out of there. Running away from the haunted shell of Leo.

He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who ducks away from his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who covers windows and hides from his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who looks up at him and says, “That’s not what a hero would do.”

Raph is a big guy and he’s never been good with fragile things. So maybe the best thing he can do for now is stay back and let those with deft hands take the lead.

Even if it’s not what he wants.

What he really wants to do is go back to that facility. Find the men that did this to Leo. And then…

Raph lines up his punching bag and swings. Over and over and over, until his fingers sting.

-----

They’re leaving him here. They’re leaving him alone.

Alone with Draxum. 

Leo wants to protest. He wants to beg them to stay. He wants them to not want to leave him to begin with.

But Splinter said they haven’t gotten groceries in awhile. And even if he claims they aren’t running out of food, Leo is terrified of what happens if they do.

So he doesn’t ask his dad to stay. He keeps his mouth shut, focus on his bowl of soup, depressingly empty next to everyone else’s.

But Donnie… Donnie doesn’t have to go to the scrapyard tomorrow, right?

Yeah… Leo can survive the lack of curtains for another day. He slept just fine with his makeshift window blockers last night, after all. He appreciates that Donnie wants to get it done quickly, but there’s no need.

“Hey, Dee,” he says, looking up, and realizing too late that he just interrupted something April was saying. Everyone goes quiet, anyway, and he feels the suffocating weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

His mouth goes dry.

“Yes, Leo?” Donnie prompts when he doesn’t say anything. He looks confused, and concerned. They all do. Because it’s super weird for Leo to say something and then fall silent. Just like it would be weird for him to beg Donnie to stay because he’s afraid of being alone with Draxum.

“Just, uh… excited to see the curtain rods,” he says, pivoting to a neutral topic. Maybe no one noticed. Maybe he was quick enough.

Donnie’s face lights up the way it does when anyone wants to see his handiwork, which is good. Leo likes making his brothers happy. Pizza Supreme knows he hasn’t been good at it lately.

“Of course!” he says, practically bouncing in his seat. “I’ll show you after dinner!”

“Can’t wait.”

Conversation moves on. Leo finishes his soup.

“Are you still hungry?” Draxum asks, making him jump. “Do not lie to me, this time.”

“Draxum,” says Splinter in a warning tone. But that’s all he does. He doesn’t offer Leo more food. He doesn’t argue that Leo wouldn’t lie.

They haven’t been grocery shopping in awhile.

“…No,” Leo says, twisting his napkin in his hand. “I’m full.”

-----

“I focused on the windows directly around your bed to begin,” Donnie says as he leads Leo into his train car, a bounce in his step as he pushes past the curtain. “To help you get a good night’s sleep. And Dad already hung what curtains he had finished, so you can even see the final result!”

Leo steps into the middle of the room and looks around. The curtain rods are simpler than he expected, simple things fastened to the wall, able to be unlatched so the rods can be removed and the curtains swapped out. Every windows’ brackets are slightly different, a testament to the scraps Donnie used to make them, but Leo likes that - this hodge-podge, improvised way of home decor has always been their style. It has a charm you can’t get in a normal house.

Donnie has also painted the rods a gunmetal blue, and some of the brackets have Ls etched into the metal. It’s little details like that that leave Leo touched.

The curtains themselves are just black fabric, sewn so they can loop over the rods and be pulled aside when desired. It’s simple and quick, but they represent hours his dad spent today at a sewing machine, just to help him sleep.

Leo feels himself getting a little teary again, and he quickly blinks it back. He doesn’t feel like crying today.

“It’s so cool, Dee,” he says, and his voice is genuine; he catches Donnie flap his hands in a pleased way out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks. This will really help a lot.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” Donnie is all smiles, and it makes Leo smile, too. “I wanted to make them more elaborate, but I thought time was of the essence. I would have been done today, if I hadn’t run out of materials.”

“No way, man, you got a lot more done today than I thought you would.” Then again, Donnie always has been quick, even more so since he got his powers, so Leo shouldn’t be so surprised. “What else could you even do to them? Add AI?”

“Oho, don’t tempt me.” Donnie reaches up and taps one of the brackets with a nail, making a soft ping. “Then you could open or close all the curtains with voice command!”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good using my hands.” He spins to take the room in one more time, then claps his arm around Donnie’s shoulders.

(The pang when his arm hits the metal shell is more jarring than it used to be.)

“Seriously, hermano. Thanks.”

Donnie doesn’t pull away quite as quickly as he used to. “Well. Save any more thanks until I finish with the project. Which should be soon, after my scrapyard run tomorrow!”

Right. The scrapyard. This is when Leo should bring it up. This is the perfect time.

He can just ask Donnie to stay. To put it off one more day, work on something else. Here, in his room, just the two of them, he doesn’t think Donnie would refuse him. He doesn’t think Donnie would make fun of him. He doesn’t think Donnie would call him weird.

“Actually, uh…”

He remembers Donnie taking his cracker and eating it.

“Hm?” Donnie turns out of his arm and looks at Leo, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He remembers Donnie’s reaction to the chewed up bottle cap.

“Leo?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… be careful, okay? We don’t know if those EPF guys have come back.”

Donnie’s face drops into a more serious expression. “Right. Don’t worry - I’ve taken precautions.”

“What precautions?”

“I’ve updated the software on all our trackers. If they leave the city limits, or if a third party attempts to interfere with the signal, they’ll immediately send an alert to everyone’s phones.”

“You don’t think that’s a little… excessive?”

Donnie folds his arms over his chest. “Not if it keeps everyone safe.”

Leo doesn’t know how to argue with that.

“I am working on a way that we can each override it, though,” Donnie adds. “We wouldn’t want to scare each other if we leave the area on purpose. And I have plans for even more enhancements that can-”

“Eugh boy.” Leo motions Donnie toward the door. “I’m way too tired for speech mode, Dee. Maybe later?”

Donnie scowls. “Exasperated sigh. There is never a “later” with you.”

Leo laughs. “You got me!”

“You could really stand to pay attention and learn something… But, alright.” Donnie steps toward the curtain. “I will let you get away with it this time, only because you’re still recovering.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.” But Donnie gives him a grin on the way out. “Goodnight, Nardo.”

“Night, nerd!”

As soon as Donnie’s gone, Leo sinks onto his bed and puts his head in his hands.

He couldn’t ask Donnie to stay. He couldn’t, because it would be weird and strange and bad. And now he’s going to be left alone with Draxum.

Will Draxum even let him eat? What if he decides Leo’s had enough…?

It’s a stupid thought. Of course Draxum will let him eat. Otherwise, Leo’s family would… do something!

Right?

He thinks about Donnie taking the cracker again. His pulse quickens.

He can’t go without food again. He can’t. He doesn’t think he would be able to take it.

But if no one else is going to give him food, then… then…

Leo takes a deep breath and steels his resolve. He knows what he needs to do.

He grabs the curtain on the nearest window and pulls it over, just a crack - just enough to see the lights outside, to see when they dim as the rest of his family goes to bed for the night.

And he waits.

-----

By the time Raph finally leaves the dojo, it’s dark in the lair, with only some safety lighting and a few neon signs still on. He can hear his dad snoring from the TV room, the projection flickering on the end card of a show, and as he passes their extra train car he sees Draxum inside, working on something under a desk lamp. Mikey and Leo are both in their rooms, from what he can tell, and Donnie must be in his lab.

He’ll go on his rounds in a bit; first, he beelines for the kitchen for water and a nighttime snack.

He’s quiet as he walks up the escalator, knowing exactly which steps creak and squeal and carefully avoiding them. He doesn’t want a conversation right now; not with his wrapped knuckles and sweat-soaked mask dangling from his fingers.

The kitchen’s dark when he arrives, and he fumbles around for the switch, missing it a few times. It’s so different from the layout of the old lair, and he’s not usually the first one in the kitchen in the morning.

He finally flips on the light, and finds he isn’t the first one in the kitchen tonight, either.

Leo stands frozen by the counter, eyes wide and panicked when they meet Raph’s. In his hands he’s clutching a half-full bag of chips, sour cream and onion, the plastic crinkling and snapping where he grips it tight. He looks like a terrified, wild animal, drowning in one of his own hoodies and stancing up like he’s ready to bolt. Like he’s doing something wrong, getting a snack in his own house.

Except… he kind of is doing something wrong. And that’s what breaks Raph’s heart.

But what is Raph supposed to do here? Tell Leo he can’t eat that, the same as his captors did? Try to explain to him why he can’t have it, when Raph barely understands the reasons himself? Rip the bag from his weak hands, and prove to Leo once and for all that his family can’t be trusted?

Raph is supposed to be the biggest brother. The one who always knows exactly what to do, exactly how to help, who protects his three little knuckleheads from a world that wants to hurt them.

But he doesn’t know what to do about this. It’s just not in his playbook.

He’s never been good with fragile things.

Raph reaches over and flips off the kitchen light. He goes back to the escalator, and dodges the squeaky steps. He goes to his train car, and pulls the curtain over the doorway.

He pretends he didn’t see.

-----

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A (here) | Part 4 Part B (not out yet)

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kudos and enemies to lovers

type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, this is ooc I just thought it was funny, rook writing rpf is morally questionable I KNOW. he's a freak author's note: the fanfiction site is made up

"completely ooc. vil would never say this"

Rook Hunt has been staring at the anonymous comment for hours.

He's come back to it five times, taking breaks only to rest his eyes when the harsh glare of the computer screen becomes too much.

It's not so uncommon for him to fall for so little; in just seven words, this anonymous hate had captured his full attention like a rabbit in a snare.

His gloved finger brushes over the enter key.

What to say? How could he possibly express himself in only a few hundred characters, in the comment section under a fanfiction of fifty thousand?

How he wishes they commented from an account... not only could he DM them, he may also have some idea of who they are. What sort of person would know Vil Schoenheit better than him?

No one. That's who.

"Dear Reader: I am sorry to hear you did not like my writing. However, I am inclined to believe I know Vil Schoenheit a modest amount better than you. Merci. -R"

Rook smiles. Eloquent, graceful, but firm. A gentleman like him would never start a fight.

Only finish it.

His curiosity finally put to rest, he responds to the other comments, thanking his usual commenters in detail.

When he scrolls back up to the top, there's something new:

"I sincerely doubt that. and fyi, you couldn't beg vil to be friends with neige"

Ohoho. Those are fighting words, he thinks. A smile creeps across Rook. Well, if it's a fight they want...

"Dear Reader: You doubt it? And how so? -R"

He refreshes the page again and again, hoping for an answer each time. This is the most stimulation he's had all week.

Now, who could this mysterious commentor be? A jealous fan, perhaps? A bitter critic?

Then:

"I was sitting next to him not two hours ago and he'd never say that"

Rook's smile widens. Of course. He should have guessed. The typing quirks, the misspelled words, even the voice in which each comment is written...

Now, he has you right where he wants you.

"Naughty naughty, Prefect. Does our Roi du Poison know you frequent the Vil Schoenheit x reader tag? or have you been keeping secrets again~?"

This time, he doesn't refresh. He knows you won't respond. Rook gets up from his desk and leaves his dorm, knowing just where to find you at this hour, and...

"Bonsoir, Trickster," he lets himself in your room.

As expected, there you are, looking beautifully flustered and vulnerable with your Crowley-approved phone in hand.

His smile sharpens. "Beautiful night, non?"

"I can explain,"

"Ah-ah," he tuts, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Do not be ashamed. I'm not a tattletale... not when I don't have to be."

His voice has a dangerous edge to it, and you give him a suspicious look. "What do you want?"

Rook lets the silence drag on, making you more and more impatient, more nervous, as if he were about to ask for something dangerous.

"Rescind your comments and leave a kudos on my work,"

You blink.

"...That's it?"

"Oui," he says. "...Unless you had something else in mind?"

You sigh. Now it's your turn to drag out the silence.

"...Let me edit your next fic,"

And, subsequently, it's Rook's turn to be surprised. He hadn't been expecting that. How... bold.

He smiles.

"...Ah... a tempting offer, I admit. I am working on something new. Perhaps we should discuss it over dinner?"

You think... and then: "I'm free Friday,"

"Then Friday it will be," Rook says, standing from your bed.

"Until then, mon petit critique~"

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡, jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 10.7k (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. UM?? MB?? got a bit carried away with this one sorry y'all)

♡ ─ summary | y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her.

♡ ─ warnings | kind of mark estapa x reader as well but guess who she chooses in the end??? unedited (i'll edit in the morning y'all i just wanna get this out ASAP) SOOO MUCH ANGST OML, childhood best friends trope, unrequited love (for the most part), description of sex (like two sentences u could blink and it's gone), lots of cursing, fighting (sm of it), asshole!jack, idk they may be more but i'm lazy (promise they're not bad if i'm not mentioning them rn)

♡ ─ taglist | @valluvsu (check link in navigation for taglist form if you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | WHOOOHOOO! it's finally done yayyaa, i got this done in like two days bc i was so excited. jack hughes is very much gold rush coded, pls argue with the wall if you disagree. but anyway! this is a long one, so strap in!!! so much feelings in one fic lol i'm done, but i'm actually very proud of myself. as always, i'm open to respectful critics as i love to improve my writing for you all!! anyways, pls enjoy this fucking novel LMAOO, and let me know your thoughts!!!

Jack Hughes had always been the most beautiful person you'd ever seen.

Not just physically, he'd always been one of the sweetest people you'd ever met. He genuinely cared about how you were feeling and listened attentively when you spoke. His kindness and compassion were qualities that drew you to him from the very beginning.

But it wasn't just his sweet personality that captivated you; it was the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing eyes, filled with warmth and kindness. Whenever he gazed into your eyes, it felt like he was seeing straight into your soul, understanding you in a way that no one else ever had. But never in the way that you wanted.

Every time he smiled, it lit up the room any room he was in, and your heart simultaneously. His laughter was infectious, and being around him brought a sense of joy and happiness that was unparalleled.

He'd always been the special one in the room, with his skills on the ice or his undeniable beauty. It wasn't Jack's fault that he had such an effect on people; it was simply a consequence of his charm and charisma. What sometimes made you feel inadequate was the way other girls looked at him, with admiration and longing in their eyes.

Every time you saw him with those adoring eyes gazing at another girl, it was like a dagger to your heart. What hurt most though, was the way he looked back at them. His gaze held a attraction and desire that you craved, but it was a warmth he reserved for them, not ever for you.

You couldn't fault him for it; he couldn't control where his heart led him. You watched him from a distance, silently cheering him on in his pursuits of happiness, even when it meant seeing him with someone else.

Yet, despite the pain it caused you, you couldn't help but be there for him when he needed it. Whenever he faced heartbreak or disappointment, you were the one he turned to for comfort and understanding. It was bittersweet, being the person he leaned on while secretly thinking how you could never ever hurt him the way those other girls did. Your heart ached every time he told you about his the girls, and you would listen attentively, offering advice and consolation. You wanted to be the one to mend his broken heart, to make him see that you were right there, loving him in a way no one else ever could. But you kept those feelings locked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship.

And you knew he loved you, he truly did. He would just never love you the way you'd always wanted. You felt selfish for wanting more. He was already yours in some regard, others would dream of being that close to the Jack Hughes. You were already an important part of his life, someone he trusted and cared about. Being close to Jack Hughes in any capacity was a dream come true for most, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have him as a friend.

But deep down, you couldn't help the longing that tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't help the desire for something more, something that went beyond friendship. It was a complex mix of emotions, and you grappled with the guilt of wanting something that might change the dynamic between you two.

It was hard seeing him repeating those mistakes over and over again, and him running back to you wishing he had someone to love him fully and truly, for who he was. You often found yourself on the verge of screaming, wanting to shout, "What about me? Don't you see what's right in front of you?!" But you remained silent, as you always did, playing the role of the understanding friend who listened without judgment.

And each time he came to you with a broken heart, you wished he could recognize the depth of your love, the unwavering support you offered, and the fact that you were right there, ready to love him fully and unconditionally. But it seemed that he was blind to your feelings, or perhaps he was simply too caught up in his own search for love to notice what was right in front of him.

It seemed everyone else saw how much you loved him, Quinn giving you sympathetic smiles and Luke giving you advice. They saw the way you looked at Jack when he wasn't watching, the way your eyes held a mixture of adoration and hurt. They noticed how you were always there for him, ready to offer a comforting word or a reassuring hug when he needed it the most. It wasn't just your words or actions that revealed your love; it was the unwavering presence you provided in his life.

And so, you continued to sit still and listen, even when every fiber of your being screamed for him to see you, to love you, and to choose you. Your love for him remained a silent, unspoken truth, buried deep within your heart as you watched him repeat his relationship mistakes, hoping that one day, he would finally realize the love that had always been right beside him.

He was always grateful for your presence and care until he wasn't. Until he started taking you for granted, choosing his shiny new friends over you.

The pain of unrequited love was compounded by the feeling of being cast aside, as if your friendship and support no longer held the same value they once did. You couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten all the times you had been there for him, the countless moments you had shared.

It was a painful realization that the person you loved so deeply was no longer the same person who had once cherished you. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, holding onto the hope that one day he would remember the bond you had shared and the love that had always been there, waiting for him to see.

──

"Where have you been?!" Ellen, Jack's mom, exclaimed as you walked into the Hughes' lake house. She immediately walked over to you, embracing you tightly.

Over the past couple months, you had declined numerous invitations to Hughes family events over the past couple of months. You had told them that school was taking up most of your time, which was partly true. In reality, you just didn't want to see Jack.

"Just busy with school," you replied, returning her embrace warmly. Ellen Hughes had always been like a second mother to you, and her genuine concern warmed your heart.

Ellen held you at arm's length, her kind eyes studying your face. "You know, you don't have to disappear just because of school, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, no matter what."

Her words tugged at your heartstrings. You knew the Hughes family cared about you deeply, and it pained you to distance yourself from them as well. "I appreciate that, Ellen. It's just been a hectic semester, but I promise I'll make more time for you guys."

The bond between you and the Hughes family ran deep. You had known Jack and his brothers since childhood, and your connection had only grown stronger over the years. You were there for them through thick and thin, and they, in turn, had become an integral part of your life. You'd been close with the family since you were young, you'd been there for the brothers since day one.

From building sandcastles at the beach during summer vacations to sharing secrets by the campfire during family camping trips, your memories with the Hughes brothers were countless. Ellen and Jim Hughes had always treated you like one of their own, and you felt a sense of belonging that was unmatched anywhere else.

As the years passed and feelings grew more complex, you found yourself at a crossroads. You had always been there for Jack, offering your support and friendship without reservation. However, as your feelings for him had deepened, it had become increasingly challenging to hide your true feelings. You couldn't risk damaging the close-knit relationship you had with the Hughes family, especially when you knew Jack didn't share the same romantic feelings.

So, you made the difficult decision to take a step back, to create some distance in the hope that you could regain control over your heart. It wasn't an easy choice, and it meant missing out on moments with the family that had become a second home to you.

Ellen smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "We've missed you, sweetheart. And I know someone else who's been missing you too."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you couldn't help but wonder if Jack had noticed your absence more than you had expected.

"Luke! Sweetheart, look who's decided to show up!''

Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Of course it wasn't Jack.

Your heart sank as Luke, Jack's younger brother, bounded into the room with excitement. You were confused, you loved Luke equally as Jack (you tried to convince yourself), but Luke wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic person when it came to you. Now, you knew something was up.

"Hey, you," Luke said with a warm smile, giving you a bear hug that nearly squeezed the air out of your lungs.

"Hey, Lukey," you replied, returning his hug with a raised eyebrow. Luke's behavior was unusual, and you couldn't help but wonder if something was going on.

As Luke pulled away, he scrutinized your expression. "You've been MIA for a while. School must really have you swamped."

You nodded, not trusting your voice to betray the mix of emotions you were feeling. Luke was perceptive, and you wondered if he had picked up on your recent distance.

Thankfully, Ellen chimed in, rescuing you from the awkward moment. "Well, we're just glad she's here now! Dinner will be ready soon, so you two catch up while I finish up in the kitchen."

With that, Ellen left you and Luke alone, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Luke's sudden warmth and attention meant that something was amiss in the Hughes household.

"What's up?" You cleared your throat, looking at Luke with a knowing expression.

"Well we all know why you've been really gone," Luke sighed as he glared at you. "You don't have to cut us all of just because Jack got a girlfriend."

"Jack got a girlfriend?" That felt like a dagger to the stomach. Luke's expression, once irritated, softened into one of sympathy as he nodded slowly.

"He didn't... tell you?"

You shook your head, struggling to find your voice. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and the sting of betrayal. Jack hadn't confided in you about something as significant as this, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

"Who is she?" you finally managed to ask, your voice a mere whisper.

Luke hesitated, as if debating how much to reveal. "Her name's Nicole," he began cautiously. "They've been dating for a few months now. It's been pretty serious, which is probably why he didn't want to... you know, complicate things."

You listened to Luke's explanation about Jack and Nicole while a storm of emotions raged within you. The pain of knowing Jack was in a serious relationship was difficult to bear, and the fact that he hadn't told you himself only added to your hurt. You felt like an outsider in his life, someone he had pushed aside.

But then, Luke's words took an unexpected turn, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But that doesn't matter now, you have to move on and I have the perfect guy for you," he said, his tone surprisingly enthusiastic.

Oh, now everything made sense. It was clear that Luke had an ulterior motive, and you couldn't help but feel a little exasperated. "Luke, I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of thing right now," you replied, trying to be polite even though you didn't appreciate the idea of being set up with one of his friends.

They were all fuck-boys from what you've heard. Luke would go into great detail every time you'd call him for an update. You had heard enough stories about Luke's friends to know that they were often more interested in casual relationships than anything serious.

"They were all fuck-boys from what you've told me," you said with a wry smile. Luke had a tendency to share his escapades in great detail, and you couldn't help but be amused by his candidness.

Luke chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, they can be a handful sometimes, but I promise this guy is different. He's actually a pretty decent guy, and I think you'd get along. Would I ever set you up for failure, Y/N?"

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "And what's in it for you, Luke? Why are you so invested in setting me up with your friend?"

Luke's expression shifted, and for a moment, he looked genuinely serious. "Because I hate seeing you like this, distant from the family and hurting because of Jack. I just want you to be happy."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but soften a bit. Luke may have had ulterior motives, but it seemed that his concern for your well-being was genuine.

"And um, well, I have a thing for his cousin." Luke cleared his throat and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.

A playful smile tugged at your lips as Luke admitted his own motives. "Ah, I see how it is. A bit of matchmaking for both of us, then?"

Luke grinned, his boyish charm on full display. "Exactly! We help each other out, and everyone's happy."

You chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie with Luke. "Alright, fine Luke. Jeez, the things I do for you."

Luke laughed, appreciating your willingness to humor him. "You're the best, Y/N. You won't regret it, I promise."

──

Dinner had been ready and Ellen decided dinner would be fun outside. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the lake, and the sound of crickets filled the air as the family gathered around a long, rustic wooden table set up on the deck, the same one they'd had a decade ago, when you were children.

You took a seat next in between Luke and Jim, Quinn across from you two and Jack nowhere to be found. Before you could ask, your question was answered.

"Where's Jack?" Ellen asked as she sat next to her husband.

"With Nicole," Luke and Quinn had mumbled in response as they both took knowing glances at you. You couldn't help but sigh, would you always be known the girl who's helplessly in love with Jack?

"Wow, you really outdid yourself, Ellen with this chicken. What did you do?" You tried to change the topic with a smile, as you ate dinner.

Ellen beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased that you appreciated her cooking. "Oh, I found it on the TikTok, it was amazing and so easy! You should start making it, it's so easy for school."

The conversation shifted towards discussing recipes and school, and you found it easier to participate in the lighthearted chatter. As the evening went on, you made an effort to focus on the present moment, enjoying the warmth of the Hughes family and pushing aside thoughts of Jack and his new relationship.

After dinner, you and Quinn helped Ellen with the dishes and you found yourself in deep conversation with them. The warmth of their company, along with the shared memories and laughter, made you realize that distancing yourself from the Hughes family wasn't the right course of action. They had been a significant part of your life for so long, and you cherished the bond you shared with them.

You were so engaged in conversation that you didn't hear footsteps that entered the kitchen.

"Hey,"

The sound of the familiar voice calling out "Hey" made your heart skip a beat. You turned around to find Jack standing there, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. It had been a while since you'd seen him, and the mix of emotions stirred within you once more. And next to him, you assumed to be "Nicole." She looked sweet and you forced a smile at her.

"Hey," you replied, your voice friendly and polite as you acknowledged both Jack and Nicole. You couldn't help but notice the way they stood close to each other, the subtle intertwining of their fingers, and the affectionate glances they exchanged. It was a painful reminder of the gap that had grown between you and Jack.

"Hi, I'm Nicole," she introduced herself with a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Nicole. I'm Y/N," you replied, extending a hand for a friendly shake.

"Yeah, I know. These two don't ever stop talking about you." She laughed playfully and you felt heart start beating faster at the prospect of Jack talking about you to his girlfriend.

"Well it was mostly me─" Quinn tried to intervene before you laughed along with her, he was trying to soften the blow.

"Really? Well that's sweet," you replied with a warm smile, even though a small part of you wished Jack would stop talking about you to his girlfriend. It was a complex blend of emotions, wanting to be close to him but also wanting to distance yourself from the heartache.

Ellen smiled, "Well now that you're here, you all can finish the dishes and catch up,"

You nodded, "Okay, sure. Go relax, Ellen."

"Yep, and me." Before you could protest, Quinn left. He certainly didn't want to be there once you started "catching up." You cursed at Quinn in your head as he left the kitchen, alone with Jack and his girlfriend.

The clinking of dishes filled the kitchen as you, Jack, and Nicole worked together on the task at hand. You decided to break the silence with some light conversation.

"So, Nicole, how did you and Jack meet?" you asked, genuinely curious about their relationship.

Nicole smiled, her eyes lighting up. "We actually met at one of his hockey games. My friend had an extra ticket, and I've always been a fan of hockey, so I decided to go. I didn't know I'd end up meeting Jack Hughes in person but now, here we are!"

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was a lucky coincidence. We hit it off right away."

"That's so sweet, right out of a book." You laughed and she nodded, blushing. You couldn't help but smile at their story, even though it felt like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be. You were genuinely happy for Jack, and yet, a part of you couldn't help but wish for a different outcome.

Nicole blushed at your comment, clearly smitten with Jack. "Yeah, it does feel a bit like a fairy tale sometimes," she admitted.

"So, Y/N, what have you been up to lately?" Jack cleared his throat, breaking the conversation away from their relationship. You both gazed at one another and you suddenly felt empty. It had never been like this between you two, he never asked what you'd been up to because he always known.

You forced a smile, your chest feeling heavy as you replied, "Oh, you know, just keeping busy with school and spending time with family." It was a vague response, deliberately leaving out the part about missing him. You didn't want to make things awkward, and you certainly didn't want to burden him with your own emotions.

Jack nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. "That's good to hear. School can be pretty demanding, I bet."

"Yeah, it keeps me on my toes," you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. It was becoming increasingly clear that the dynamic between you and Jack had changed, and it was going to take some time to adjust to this new reality.

Before he could respond, Luke came into the kitchen and he immediately looked like he regretted it. He forced a smile, "Um, is there any ice cream in the... fridge?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's somewhat awkward entrance. It was clear he was trying to give you and Jack some space, even though the tension in the room was palpable.

"Luke, you know where the ice cream is," you replied with a knowing look, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just... thought I'd ask," Luke stammered before quickly retreating from the kitchen, leaving you, Jack, and Nicole alone once more.

As the last dish was placed in the drying rack, you couldn't help but glance at Jack, his profile highlighted by the soft kitchen light. He turned to you with a smile.

"Anyways, Trevor and Alex are coming tomorrow, you excited to see them?" Jack added with a friendly tone, trying to bridge the awkward gap that had formed during your conversation.

You nodded, appreciating the effort he was making to include you despite the new circumstances. "Yeah, it'd be nice to catch up with them. I haven't talked to 'em in a while."

All three of you exited the kitchen and you went to go find Quinn to give him a lecture. That was until you felt your phone buzz with a text message,

luke my friends are here they wanna meet u

Before you could type your answer, Luke gave you another text.

lukejack and his gf aren't here. just come 😑

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and quickly went to go find him and his friends. You quickly found them by the pool and you opened the sliding door, his friends whipped their heads to take a look at you.

"Hey, Luke," you greeted him with a smile, momentarily ignoring the curious glances. "You wanted me to meet your friends?"

"Well you said yourself you wanted to meet 'em earlier," Luke nodded and you got the memo.

You nodded and smiled, deciding to go along with Luke's plan. After all, it was a chance to distract yourself from the complicated situation with Jack and his new girlfriend. Luke's friends seemed friendly enough, and you were always open to making new acquaintances.

"I'm pretty sure you've met Ethan and Dylan before,"

You nodded politely. You had met them when you had helped him move in a few months ago and they were nice enough. "Yeah, nice to see you guys again."

"Yeah, you too." They replied in union, making you laugh.

"And this is Mark," Luke glanced knowingly at you and you instantly knew that this was the guy who had developed a crush on you.

When Luke introduced Mark, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his friends' expressions. It was clear that Mark's crush on you wasn't a well-kept secret among their group. You offered Mark a friendly smile, wanting to make him feel comfortable despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Nice to meet you, Mark," you said, extending a hand for a handshake. "Luke's told me a lot about you guys."

Mark's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he shook your hand. "Yeah, he's talked about you too."

Luke sat back down and you took a seat next to him, right across from Mark. "Oh does he?" You teased him.

Luke, attempting to play it cool, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just mentioned how nice you are, no big deal."

Ethan and Dylan exchanged knowing glances, trying to suppress their laughter. It was evident to everyone at the table that there was more to Luke's mention than he let on.

"Nice?" You couldn't help but laugh and exchange glances with Mark, a grin on his face. He was cute, you had to admit that. He was exactly your type, he looked sweet and had a cute smile. Maybe Luke was a pretty good matchmaker, so far.

"Yeah, he told us how cool you were. And then he showed us your instagram and all of us fell in love," Ethan mentioned, quickly pausing and glancing at Mark before continuing. "Well not in love but we all thought you were pretty. Well, I mean you are but like-"

"I get it," You laughed at his nervous rambling. You took another glance at Mark and gave him a smile, his cheeks turning even redder (somehow).

The table erupted in laughter, and it was clear that everyone was having a good time. Even Mark seemed to have settled into the friendly atmosphere, and you couldn't deny the chemistry you felt with him. It was lighthearted and fun, a welcome distraction from the complicated feelings you had for Jack.

As the night wore on, you noticed that Ethan, Luke, and Dylan began to exchange glances and sharing quiet conversations. It was clear that they had some sort of plan in mind, and you couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. You decided to play along, knowing that whatever they had in store was likely meant to bring you and Mark closer and anything would help to make you forget about Jack.

"Hey, Mark, do you want to check out the lake?" you suggested, giving him a sweet smile. The lake house had always been a place of fond memories for you, and it would be a great opportunity to spend some time alone with Mark.

Mark's face lit up. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea, let's go."

You excused yourselves from the table, and as you walked towards the sliding glass door that led to the lake, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous smiles on Ethan, Luke, and Dylan's faces. They were clearly up to something, you tried to ignore their expressions.

Once outside, the two of you made your way down to the edge of the lake. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting a romantic glow.

"So, Y/N, tell me more about yourself," Mark began, his voice soft and inviting.

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth in the cool summer night air. "Well, there's not much to tell, really." You chuckled before continuing, "Just trying to finish up school and move to Europe."

Mark's eyes widened with curiosity. "Europe? That sounds amazing. What's drawing you there?"

You gazed at the shimmering reflection of the moon on the lake, lost in thought for a moment. "I don't know, these past months have been hard. And I never thought about moving out of the states but recently, I just wanna let go and start fresh, you know?"

Mark nodded, understanding what you meant. "I get that, a change of scenery can help with that feeling."

You sighed, feeling a sense of relief in opening up to Mark. "Exactly. I just want to explore new horizons, experience different cultures, and maybe find a new perspective on life."

"I've always wanted to go to France, I know it's basic but I heard they had good hot chocolate and had to try it." Mark smiled down at you and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

"That doesn't sound basic at all," you replied with a grin. "I would love to visit France, even if it is every person's dream."

Mark chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "Maybe we can both make our way to Europe someday. Who knows, our paths might cross in a cozy café in Paris."

The idea painted a vivid picture in your mind, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility. "That sounds like a dream."

A sudden breeze began to pick up and you felt yourself shiver and Mark noticed. Without saying another word, he took off his jacket and quickly wrapped it around your shoulder.

It was a cliche, you know that. But as you looked at Mark, you felt a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the jacket. His kindness and consideration made your heart skip a beat, something you hadn't experienced in a while. You smiled at him gratefully, the cool breeze forgotten as you were wrapped in his warmth.

"Thank you, Mark," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, under the moonlight by the lake, you felt a connection that was unlike anything you had experienced in a long time.

Mark smiled back at you, his eyes holding a glint of something more. "Anytime, Y/N."

As the night wore on, your conversation with Mark flowed effortlessly, you found yourself drawn further into Mark's world, and the thought of Jack and his complicated situation faded into the background even if only for that night. In Mark's company, you were starting to feel a glimmer of hope for the fresh start you had been yearning for.

──

You awoke with the sound of laughter. Your eyes opened groggily and you felt your back scream in pain and it took a minute to realize exactly where you were.

You laid on Mark's chest, a blanket laid out on the both of you. You were on the couch and the memories of last night quickly flooded back into your head.

"Aww, Marky, you got yourself a girlfriend finally!" Ethan exclaimed as Mark tried to cover your face with the blanket, an (failed) attempt to not to wake you. They hadn't noticed you were awake.

"Ha ha ha, so funny." Mark mumbled in false amusement as he yawned.

You decided to remain quiet, pretending to still be asleep, curious to hear how Mark would handle the situation. A smile stretched your lips as you continued to eavesdrop.

"Seriously though, Mark, she's pretty," Dylan chimed in. "You two looked really cozy last night."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark replied, his tone still somewhat defensive. "We were just talking. You guys are reading too much into it."

"Sure, Mark, whatever you say," Ethan teased, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Just talking, my ass."

"My clothes are still on, right?" Mark groaned quietly. "Could you guys be quiet, she's sleeping."

"Awww, Marky!" Ethan let out a booming laugh and you took that as your cue to 'wake up.'

You let out a yawn and pushed down the blanket from your face and they all quieted down. "Good... morning?"

"You have a good sleep last night?" Ethan teased and you tried to ignore the warm feeling in your cheeks as you got up from the couch. Mark frowned as you got up, feeling his body get cool.

You stretched your arms and stifled another yawn before responding to Ethan's teasing. "Yeah, it was quite comfortable here, actually."

"I bet," Ethan replied as he wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, well, I'm going to brush my teeth."

"Wait, let's go eat first." Mark quickly replied, making Dylan and Ethan exchange glances.

"Before... brushing my teeth?" You smiled at that. He was cute, for sure.

"Yeah, Mark, let her go brush her teeth. Knowing what you two did-"

"Shut up," Mark groaned as you let out a chuckle. "Yeah, go brush your teeth."

You nodded and walked away from the living room, quickly ascending up the stairs and into the bathroom. The smile hadn't left your face and you felt like absolutely nothing could ruin your mood.

Well, you were wrong.

As you brushed your teeth happily, you heard the familiar noise in the next room other. The rhythmic banging, the moaning─

Oh no, you thought to yourself. You felt your stomach twist in disgust as let out an audible gag. The room next to the bathroom was Jack's and the only couple in the entire house was Jack and Nicole. You connected the dots and you suddenly felt nauseous.

You spit your paste and quickly rinsed your mouth. You needed to get out of there immediately. As you walked out of the bathroom, you bumped into one person you did not want to see.

"Oh shoot, sorry."

You looked up to see Nicole. She looked tired, her red hair messy and her neck filled with marks. They were obviously busy last night and you tried to push the visual of them having sex out of your mind as you forced a smile. "No, you're totally good."

She smiled and gave your shoulder a pat before walking to the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and let your shoulders fall as you walked down the stairs.

You smelled hash browns in the air, your favorite, but somehow you still felt sick to your stomach. The imagery was still stuck in your head, you felt disgusting.

You made your way to the dining table and took a seat next to Quinn, crossing your arms and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your disgusted facial expression, your annoyed attitude, everything.

"They're like fucking bunnies," Quinn mumbled to you and you looked back at him with a nod. He looked tired, too. It looked like they kept him up and you were suddenly grateful you slept downstairs, even with the ache in your lower back. He put a hand on your shoulder in comfort. "Hey, if it makes you better, he lasts about a few minutes. You wouldn't want that."

His unusual teasing tone still didn't make you better, you knew Quinn was trying his best to make you feel better. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah. That's gross."

"What's gross?"

You turned your head to see Jack; his disheveled appearance making you gag internally, knowing what you know. You made eye contact for a few seconds before averting your gaze to the table.

"Nothing, buddy." Quinn responded with a smirk and they both exchanged a laugh. Jack then, took a seat right across from you. Now you literally couldn't move your gaze anywhere else without making it obvious.

Quinn seemed determined to keep the mood light, though, and he continued with the banter. "I heard you and Mark spent the night together last night."

There was a pause and a few awkward glances before he continued, "Um, not like that."

Jack looked directly at you and he had unreadable expression on his face. Confusion? Annoyance? Jealousy? Maybe a mix of all three.

"Well, we just-"

Before you continue you heard Ethan and Dylan's booming laughter as they entered the dining room, plates in their hands. They immediately exchanged glances as they realized who was in the room before putting sitting down with their plates.

"Your mom has food in the kitchen, if you guys... want any." Ethan tried to diffuse the tension as he smiled and looked at Dylan. "Mark's in there, Y/N."

As you got up to find Mark, you couldn't help but exchange a glance with Jack. His expression was hard to decipher – there was a mix of emotions, but it was clear that the mention of you spending the night with Mark had affected him in some way. You couldn't dwell on it for too long, though, as you headed to the kitchen to find Mark.

In the kitchen, you found Mark helping himself to some breakfast. He looked up and gave you a warm smile as you entered. "Hey, good morning."

He quickly noticed your expression and he turned to you with confusion, "Everything okay?"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from the dining room. "Yeah, just... things got a bit awkward in there. Thanks for last night, by the way."

Mark chuckled, handing you a plate of food. "No problem at all. It was fun."

As you both made your way back to the dining room, you couldn't help but wonder what the day had in store for you, especially with the lingering tension between you and Jack.

You sat down next to Quinn as Mark quickly made his way to the empty seat next to you. Finally, everyone started piling into the dining room and everyone started eating.

The atmosphere in the dining room remained tense as everyone continued eating. Nicole was sitting next to Jack and noticed the slight change in him, he seemed more... moody. You tried your best to focus on your plate and engage in conversation with those around you, but it was hard with Jack's presence so close.

As the meal progressed, you felt Jack's gaze on you, a burning sensation that you couldn't ignore. Finally, after a while, Jack spoke up, his tone casual as he said, "So, Y/N, Mark seemed like a nice guy. How long have you known him?"

Mark exchanged a glance between the two of you, choosing peace and continued to eat.

His seemingly innocent question struck a nerve. You knew he was deliberately bringing up Mark to gauge your reaction, and it irritated you. Trying to maintain your composure, you replied, "Just met last night."

Jack's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of surprise in his expression as he processed your response. It seemed your terse reply had caught him off guard. Mark continued to eat quietly, not wanting to get caught up in the tension.

After a moment of silence, Jack cleared his throat, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing to hide a hint of sarcasm. "Well, you two certainly seemed close for people who just met." Before you could respond, he continued under his breath, "Didn't know you were that easy."

Quinn kicked Jack's leg under the table and Nicole seemed distressed, too.

You bit your tongue. You clenched your fork tightly, your frustration mounting. "We were just having a conversation, Jack. Is that not allowed?"

Jack's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "Of course it is, Y/N. Just making conversation here because apparently I don't know anything about you anymore."

That really struck a move. He didn't know anything about you anymore? Jack's words hit you like a dagger to the heart. The pain and frustration were evident in his tone, and you could sense the turmoil in his emotions. It was clear that your distancing had affected him more than you had realized.

The tension at the table was palpable as everyone watched the exchange between you and Jack. Quinn cleared his throat, trying to mediate. "Guys, can we not do this right now?"

You felt yourself get more heated as you heard Ellen say something but you couldn't even comprehend it, that's how angry you were. Without thinking, you pushed your chair back and got up from the table. Your voice was strained with anger as you addressed Jack.

"Do you have no idea what it's been like for me, Jack?" You couldn't help but raise your voice, your pent-up emotions pouring out. "You just assume things and make stupid comments, but you don't know the half of it. This distance isn't just about you, it's about me trying to protect myself too."

The room was now filled with an uncomfortable silence, and it was clear that your outburst had taken everyone by surprise. Nicole placed a comforting hand on Jack's arm, silently pleading for him to let it go. Mark, too, looked uncomfortable, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this argument.

Jack's expression had shifted from surprise to a mix of anger and hurt as he absorbed your words. He clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to find the right response. Nicole's gentle touch on his arm seemed to be a calming influence, and he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice more controlled.

Ellen, sensing that the situation had become too tense, interjected again, her voice gentle but firm.

"Let's all take a step back, please? Y/N, sweetheart, maybe you could use a little breather, and we can all reconvene when things have calmed down."

You felt embarrassed as you looked around the room, all eyes seemingly on you and Jack. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you, you nodded, your initial anger having dissipated into a mix of regret and awkwardness. You understood that your outburst had been uncharacteristic and uncomfortable with everyone there. With a forced smile, you mumbled an apology.

"Yeah, maybe I do need a little breather. Sorry about that, everyone." You turned away from the table and quickly exited the dining room. Outside, the fresh air greeted you, and you took a moment to collect your thoughts.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend the growing rift between you and Jack, or if it was time to accept that things might never be the same again.

You stayed outside and spent the most of the day alone, outside in the pool trying to get a tan. The boys had all been playing pool inside and you were glad alone.

The sun beat down on you as you lounged by the pool, trying to soak in the warmth and forget about the tension from earlier. The sound of laughter from inside the house was a stark contrast to the solitude you sought outside.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The cool water of the pool offered a refreshing escape from the heat, and you decided to take a dip to cool off and clear your thoughts.

As you swam in the crystal-clear water, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Jack in your mind. It weighed heavily on your heart, and you wondered if there was a way to make amends and rebuild the bond you had once shared.

"Hey,"

You let out a yelp as you heard Mark's voice and he let out a soft laugh as he walked over to the pool, dipping his legs into the pool.

"Hey," you laughed, pushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. "Sorry, you scared me there."

Mark chuckled, the sound light and soothing. "No worries, didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you could use some company."

You appreciated his gesture and nodded. "Thanks, Mark. It's been definitely been a... day."

He nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. "I could tell. The argument with Jack didn't look fun."

You sighed, the weight of it all still pressing on you. "Yeah, it wasn't. Sorry about him throwing you in the middle of it, I don't know what's going on with him."

He stayed quiet as he listened and nodded. You looked at him, waiting for some kind of response. He looked like he was weighing something in his head. "Well... it seems like he's jealous."

Jealous? You blinked in surprise, not expecting Mark to say that. "Jealous? Why would he be jealous?" You knew why, but it hadn't even seemed like a possibility in your mind.

Mark had a thin-lipped smile as he continued, "I mean why else would be an absolute dick about me spending the night with you?"

You stayed quiet, you had no idea how to deal with this. Of course this would happen to you on what was supposed to be a peaceful lake-house trip.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? But you have to be 100% honest with me." Mark's tone seemed serious as he spoke and you felt your heart drop. "Have you and Jack ever hooked up? Or like, dated?"

"No," that was the true answer but it looked like Mark hadn't bought it. "Well, I've always liked him." It felt weird to admit that and Mark's expression looked hurt as you continued. "That's why I stopped talking to him. I realized it would never go anywhere and I was still living in my head, it would've never worked out with me and Jack."

Admitting it out loud hurt more than you expected. You would never work out with Jack, no matter how hard you wanted it to.

"You still like him?"

You weighed your options but as you looked at Mark and everything that could happen, you knew the right answer. "No."

──

"Y/N!"

You heard Trevor's excited shout and you turned around, you felt Trevor embrace you tightly. You let out a laugh as he continued hugging you tightly, it had been a couple months since you'd last seen him.

He was always just as close to you as Jack, he was your true best friend. He had been there for you when Jack wasn't.

"Trevor!" You returned his hug with equal enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness at the sight of your close friend.

He pulled away with a big smile on his face, "Wow, why do you actually look good?" He said with a playful flirty undertone, making you laugh.

"Don't know, maybe it's the lack of Jack." As you turned to look behind him, you locked eyes with another close friend, Alex. He smiled and walked up to you; he was definitely the calm one in the friend-group. He gave you a hug before Trevor continued.

He rolled his eyes, "You still on that? Come on, Y/N."

You chuckled at Trevor's playful teasing, realizing that his presence had indeed lifted your spirits. "I can't help it, Trev. It's like a curse or something."

Alex joined in with a gentle laugh. "Well, we're here now, so you don't have to think about Jack for a while."

With your friends around, the atmosphere lightened even further, and you felt grateful for their presence. It was a chance to forget about the tension with Jack and simply enjoy the reunion with your closest friends.

"Oh shit." Alex mumbled, "I forgot my phone in the car,"

"Oh no worries, I'll come with you," you offered, eager to catch up with Alex and have a moment away from the group.

As you both headed to the car, Alex spoke in a hushed tone, "How have you been, Y/N? I know things have been tough."

You appreciated his concern and gave him a small smile. "I've had my ups and downs, but I'm good now. I'm glad you decided to come to the lake house, I've missed you two."

Alex nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We've missed you too. And I know things have changed with Jack, but we're here to support you no matter what."

As you arrived in the hallway, you had no time to respond as you heard yelling in the garage. You and Alex exchanged confused glances as you tried to listen in.

"What, Jack?! What's the excuse now, she literally said she's liked you forever!" You heard Nicole's voice and you felt your heart drop. She heard you in the pool?

You and Alex exchanged concerned glances as you strained to hear the conversation in the garage. Nicole's voice had a tone of frustration, and it was evident that she was upset about something. The mention of your feelings for Jack made your heart race.

Jack's voice responded, his tone defensive. "Nicole, it's not that simple. Y/N and I have a complicated history, okay?"

Nicole sounded exasperated as she retorted, "Complicated history? Jack, she's moved on. Why can't you?"

Their voices grew louder, and you could feel the strain in their relationship even from a distance. It was clear that your presence had stirred up emotions and issues between them, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

As you leaned in closer to the door, it suddenly opened and you and Alex jumped.

The sudden opening of the door startled both you and Alex, and you found yourself face to face with a frustrated-looking Nicole. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing you eavesdropping on their argument.

"Y/N..." Nicole began, her voice trailing off as he seemed at a loss for words.

You quickly glanced at Alex, who was equally taken aback by the unexpected confrontation.

"I'm so sorry, Nicole, I didn't know that you heard me and I promise you I would never, ever try anything while you were with Jack-"

She cut you off with a forced smile, "I get it. It's not your fault." She sneered at Jack before continuing. "It's not your fault Jack can't get over his childhood crush."

"Nicole, let's not do this here," Jack said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced at you and Alex before turning back to her. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"There is no later! I'm done." She yelled back at him, her eyebrows furrowing in utter anger. "You already made your decision, it was either me or her and we all know your choice. I won't be a second choice, Jack. I've been second to her our entire relationship and I just met her, can you imagine how I've felt?"

The raw pain in Nicole's eyes was impossible to ignore, and it was clear that she had reached her breaking point. Her outburst had laid bare the insecurities and frustrations that had been festering beneath the surface, and it left everyone in the room with a heavy sense of unease. You could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was clear that their relationship had reached a breaking point. You couldn't help but feel guilty, was it your fault?

While you knew you weren't responsible for the choices Jack had made in his relationship, it was impossible not to wonder if your presence had somehow worsened the situation. You had never intended to come between them or cause any harm.

You exchanged a glance with Alex, who looked equally uncomfortable with the situation. The unease in the room was palpable, and there were no easy answers to the complex emotions and dynamics at play.

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. It was a painful silence, and you could feel the weight of the history and emotions between Jack and Nicole.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, Nicole. I never meant for any of this to happen-"

Nicole didn't respond. She simply turned and walked away, leaving Jack standing there, his face etched with a complex mix of emotions.

Jack ran a hand through his hair before he quickly pushed past you and Alex to run after Nicole. "Fuck, baby please listen!"

You and Alex exchanged looks before he sighed heavily, "Wow. What the hell did me and Trev miss."

"You have no idea," you sighed as you began walking to his car for the thing you had came in there for.

──

You sat next to Mark as you both dangled your feet in the water, everyone was outside and it finally felt like relaxing trip. It finally felt like the lake house; no drama (for the most part), cool summer air, and all your close friends in one place.

Sitting by the water with Mark, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The drama from earlier had dissipated, and you were grateful for the opportunity to unwind with your friends. The cool breeze, the soothing sounds of the lake, and the laughter of your friends created a serene atmosphere that allowed you to momentarily forget about the complexities of your relationships.

You turned to Mark and offered a genuine smile. "Thanks for being here today, Mark. It means a lot."

He returned your smile warmly. "Of course, Y/N. I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to or just hang out with."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you found yourself leaning in closer to Mark. His presence felt comforting and reassuring. You locked eyes with him, and there was a shared understanding between you.

In that moment, you realized that Mark had become more than just a friend. He was someone who had been there for you, who had listened, and who had shown you support when you needed it, something you hadn't experienced from any partner. And perhaps, in the midst of all the chaos, you had found something unexpected: the possibility of a new beginning.

As your faces drew nearer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that quiet, starlit moment. It was a moment of choice, a moment where you could let go of the past and embrace the future.

With a gentle, lingering touch, your lips met Mark's, and for that brief, stolen moment, it felt like the world was right where it should be.

Then it felt wrong. You pulled away and you turned your head almost instinctively and there he was. Jack, standing there, watching the scene unfold.

The shock on Jack's face was undeniable, and it was as if time had frozen in that moment. His presence shattered the tranquility that had enveloped you and Mark, leaving an awkward and tense silence in its wake.

Mark pulled away from you slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. You could feel your heart racing, caught between the past and the present, between the familiarity of Jack and the newfound connection with Mark.

Jack scoffed and walked away, leaving your heart shattered; like he always did. As you began to get up, Mark gripped your arm. You looked down at him and found yourself at crossroads.

Mark or Jack? Mark or Jack? Mark: the sweetest boy with the sweetest smile, or Jack: the person you'd loved your entire life.

You knew the answer. Everyone knew the answer. You moved your arm from his grip and got up, leaving him seated in the pool. You ran after Jack and it suddenly hit you. He'll always have this power over you, his beautiful smile always had this effect on you.

It made you nauseous as you tried to find where he was, like you always did. He would always pick someone else and you always had to pick him, that was just how it worked.

You ran after Jack, your heart pounding in your chest. The familiar ache of chasing after someone who always seemed just out of reach gnawed at you. It was a pattern you had repeated countless of times, a dance of longing and rejection that you couldn't seem to break free from no matter how hard you tried.

As you searched for him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. You knew that choosing Jack meant choosing the same cycle of heartache, but it was a choice you had made so many times before. His smile, his presence, his history with you—it all had a hold on you that was impossible to shake.

Finally, you spotted him by the edge of the lake, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. He turned to look at you, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, as if he couldn't believe you had chosen him once again.

You didn't say anything as you approached him. Words felt meaningless in that moment. Instead, you simply reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and with that simple gesture, you made your choice.

It might have been the same old pattern, the same old dance, but it was your choice to make, and for now, it was the one that felt right.

As you looked into his eyes, the same ones you'd adored since day one, you felt deja vu. You felt angry; how could one person have such control over you? In the depths of his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions, a turbulent mix of desire, frustration, and longing. It was a maddening feeling, to be so deeply ensnared by someone who seemed to hold all the power in your relationship.

The moonlight cast a soft glow on both of you as you stood by the lake, hand in hand, the weight of your choice settling in. It was a choice that defied reason and logic, a choice that defied the very patterns you had tried to break free from. But for now, it was your choice, and you would face the consequences, whatever they may be, with Jack by your side.

You felt an unexpected sob ripple from your chest and you ripped your hand from his, covering your mouth with your hand. You closed your eyes and you felt Jack pull you closer, into his chest.

As the sobs wracked your body, you felt Jack's arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. It was a mixture of relief and hurt, the weight of your choice bearing down on you. You had chosen to follow your heart, even if it meant stepping into the same cycle of uncertainty and longing.

Jack held you tightly, his own emotions undoubtedly conflicted, but in that moment, it was a silent understanding between the two of you. The night was still, and the moon illuminated the path you had chosen, as well as the challenges that lay ahead.

"It's okay, shh. I'm... here now, I'm sorry." He mumbled as he planted a kiss on your head.

You felt such anger in your stomach as he said those words so easily. Was it okay? Was he really here, with you? Was he truly sorry. You pushed him away and you saw him fumble back, hurt in his eyes as you fell on to your knees, taking a seat on the cold sand of the lake.

The anger, the hurt, the confusion, it all swirled within you as you sat there on the cold sand, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't make sense of your emotions, and Jack's words, well-intentioned as they might have been, didn't provide the solace you needed.

Jack remained a few steps away, watching you with a pained expression, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"Do you know..." You sniffled, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't even know where to begin. "I've spent my entire fucking life pining after you. Every single moment has been dedicated to the great Jack fucking Hughes, did you know that?"

Your bitter words felt like a dagger to the heart to the both of you. You continued, "I always choose you. I always fucking choose you!" You screamed out angrily, as Jack flinched. He'd never seen you this angry in his entire life.

"Why do I always choose you? You're like every other guy in the world." Your tears streamed down your face. "But you're special to me," you mumbled as Jack's breathing became heavy with emotion. "You always choose everyone else but me. I never knew why." You were just rambling at this point but you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good.

You looked up at Jack. "I watched you fall for people who didn't see you the way I did, who didn't know you the way I did, and I stood there, invisible, as you gave your heart to them."

Your words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the years of unrequited love and longing.

"And then," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "when I finally thought it might be my turn to finally be with someone who actually liked me, who wanted me, I choose you again." Your voice cracked as you mentioned Mark.

You wiped away fresh tears, and the pain in your eyes was palpable. "It hurts, Jack. It hurt more than I can put into words. But I still chose you, again."

A sob caught in your throat, and you continued, your words heavy with emotion. "I've cried myself to sleep, wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, why you never saw me the way I saw you. And every time you got hurt, I was right there with you, helping and being there." You paused. "And when I was hurt, where the fuck were you? Probably with some girl who never knew you like I did. Who will never know you like I do."

Jack's eyes were filled with remorse, and you could see the pain in his expression, but you couldn't stop now. You had to let it all out.

"I convinced myself that if I just kept waiting, if I just kept choosing you, someday you'd see me for who I was, you'd choose me. But it never happened, Jack. It never happened, and it broke my heart a little more every day."

Your voice broke again as you sniffled, "I've missed out on so much because of you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've given up on amazing opportunities, on people who genuinely cared about me, all because I thought someday you'd choose me too."

Jack took a seat beside you, the weight of your words sinking in. You didn't fight it, you were too tired.

The lake's gentle waves lapped against the shore, providing a soothing backdrop to the turmoil of emotions swirling around both of you. He didn't say anything for a while, the silence between you heavy with unspoken regret.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with remorse. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to... hurt you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. You saw the sincerity in his gaze, but it was accompanied by a sense of helplessness. It was as if he had finally realized the depth of the pain he had caused you.

"I couldn't like you, Y/N." It sounded harsher than it actually was as he continued. "I just couldn't. You were too good, Y/N, you are a sweetheart. I was scared to taint you, and I would've never forgiven myself if I did..."

"Taint me?" You scoffed, pain in your tone. "You tainted me the moment you met me, Jack."

Those words hung in the air as he swallowed, taking your words into consideration. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted any of this."

You sighed, the anger and frustration slowly giving way to a sense of resignation. It was a complicated situation, and both of you had made mistakes along the way. "I know, Jack. I know you didn't."

In that moment, you both shared a painful understanding of the past and the choices that had brought you to this point. You would always choose him, and he'd always choose them. But as he put his hand on top of yours, your body entire body felt like it was on fire.

As you looked into Jack's eyes, you saw a mixture of emotions - regret, longing, and a hint of hope. It was as if he, too, was wrestling with the undeniable connection that had always existed between you.

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "But maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work."

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to entertain the possibility of a future with Jack, a future where you didn't have to choose between him and anyone else.

Maybe all of that pining wasn't for nothing. Maybe in the end, he would have chosen you. But would you choose him? Could you finally resist him?

As you sat there, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair and the quiet waters of the lake before you, you contemplated Jack's words. The years of pining and longing, the heartaches and frustrations, all seemed to converge in this one moment.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment where the tides would turn, and you could choose a different path, one that didn't revolve around Jack. But the choice was yours to make, and it wouldn't be easy. You knew the allure of Jack, the history you shared, and the magnetic pull between you two would always be there.

For now, you decided to savor the night, knowing that the future held uncertainties and challenges, but also the potential for something beautiful. As you gazed at the moonlit lake, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead and what choices you would make when the time came.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[insert-this-fire]

Overpoweringly Sweet

Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader

Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?

W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.

AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3

~~ :3 ~~

You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.

Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 

The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.

Secret love. How fitting.

It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.

Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.

The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.

You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.

God, you’re an idiot.

A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.

Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.

After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.

Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.

Logan.

You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.

As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.

The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?

You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.

The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.

The phone rings, once, twice….

“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.

You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.

You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.

Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.

Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.

A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.

“Come on in.”

Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?

Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.

That’s silly though, this was real life.

“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?

“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 

Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.

“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”

Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”

With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.

That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.

~~ :3c ~~

Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.

He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.

Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.

It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.

You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?

Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.

Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.

Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.

As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.

When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”

If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.

Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.

After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.

The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.

“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”

“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”

“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.

You really hope that he can do this.

After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.

Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.

A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.

“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?

An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 

“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.

Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 

Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 

You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 

~~ >:3 ~~

And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.

Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.

The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 

You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 

It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.

Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 

Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 

“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 

Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 

“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.

“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 

Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 

The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.

Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 

You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?

“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.

“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?

Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.

His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”

You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 

… 

You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 

“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 

It burns, it burns, it burns. 

It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.

You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.

Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.

“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 

You taste blood.

It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 

Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 

“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  

Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.

Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 

“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.

“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 

A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.

“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”

You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”

You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 

“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”

“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”

Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”

“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 

“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.

The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 

You aren’t sure how this was going to end.

Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 

“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 

“...Okay.”

And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 

You’re not ready. 

~~ :3 !! ~~

Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 

Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.

Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.

“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 

The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 

Everything is fine.

The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.

Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 

After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 

“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 

You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 

“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.

Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 

As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.

“I love you.” 

The world shifts and the world goes dark. 

The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.

You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 

Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.

This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.

“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 

“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”

Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 

Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 

“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.

Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.

“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…

He loved you back.

“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 

Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”

You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 

“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”

A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 

You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 

You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

[rivkae-winters]

Edit: the app launched and Is down- I have the initial apology video in a post here and I’m working on getting a full archive of their TikTok up ASAP. I’m letting the rest of this post remain since I do still stand by most of it and also don’t like altering things already in circulation.

Warning for criticism and what I’d consider some harsh to outright mean words:

So I’ve just been made aware of the project known of as ‘lore.fm’ and I’m not a fan for multiple reasons. For one this ‘accessibility’ tool complicates the process of essentially just using a screen reader (something native to all I phones specifically because this is a proposed IOS app) in utterly needless and inaccessible ways. From what I have been seeing on Reddit they have been shielding themselves (or fans of the project have been defending them) with this claim of being an accessibility tool as well to which is infuriating for so many reasons.

I plan to make a longer post explaining why this is a terrible idea later but I’ll keep it short for tonight with my main three criticisms and a few extras:

1. Your service requires people to copy a url for a fic then open your app then paste it into your app and click a button then wait for your audio to be prepared to use. This is needlessly complicating a process that exists on IOS already and can be done IN BROWSER using an overlay that you can fully control the placement of.

2. This is potentially killing your own fandom if it catches on with the proposed target market of xreader smut enjoyers because of only needing the link as mentioned above. You don’t have to open a fic to get a link this the author may potentially not even get any hits much less any other feedback. At least when you download a pdf you leave a hit: the download button is on the page with the fic for a reason. Fandom is a self sustaining eco system and many authors get discouraged and post less/even stop writing all together if they get low interaction.

3. Maybe we shouldn’t put something marketed as turning smut fanfic into audio books on the IOS App Store right now. Maybe with KOSA that’s a bad idea? Just maybe? Sarcasm aside we could see fan fiction be under even more legal threat if minors use this to listen to the content we know they all consume via sites like ao3 (even if we ask them not to) and are caught with it. Auditory content has historically been considered much more obscene/inappropriate than written content: this is a recipe for a disaster and more internet regulations we are trying to avoid.

I also have many issues with the fact that this is obviously redistributing fanfiction (thus violating the copyright we hold over our words and our plots) and removing control the author should have over their content and digital footprint. Then there is the fact that even though the creator on TikTok SAYS you can email to have your fic ‘excluded’ based on the way the demo works (pasting a link) I’m gonna assume that’s just to cover her ass/is utter bullshit. I know that’s harsh but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck it’s probably a duck.

I am all for women in stem- I’ve BEEN a woman in Stem- but this is not a cool girl boss moment. This is someone naive enough to think this will go over well at best or many other things (security risks especially) at worst.

In conclusion for tonight: I hope this person is a troll but there is enough hype and enough paid for web domains that I don’t think that’s the case. There are a litany of reasons every fanfic reader and writer should be against something like this existing and I’ll outline them all in several other posts later.

Do not email their opt out email address there is no saying what is actually happening with that data and it is simply not worth the risks it could bring up. I hate treating seemingly well meaning people like potential cyber criminals but I’ve seen enough shit by now that it’s better to be safe than sorry. You’re much safer just locking all your fics to account only. I haven’t yet but I may in the future if that is the only option.

If anyone wants a screen reader tutorial and a walk through of my free favorites as well as the native IOS screen reader I can post that later as well. Sorry for the heavy content I know it’s not my normal fare.