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okaylikeschaewon · 21 days ago

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We Are Aespo

~7k words, inspired by Karina's "Aespo" slip up

Concerts, jets, explosions, these are some of the first thoughts that probably come to mind when one thinks about the word ‘loud’. However, there is nothing in the world louder than the sound of a glass shattering during a party. At least, that’s how it felt right now, and the DJ deciding to pause the music at the very same moment didn’t help either.

“Oops,” Karina stares blankly at the shards of glass decorating the marble floor as if she wasn’t the reason they were there.

“Alright,” you grab her arm. “It’s time to go.”

“B-But… I… look…” Karina cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at the mess, fighting your pull.

“They’ll take care of it, let’s go,” you give her another tug, ignoring her distress.

“Where go?” Karina asks cheerily, already forgetting about the glass.

“Away from stuff you can break.”

Karina stops moving and frowns. “It was an accident.”

The sigh barely escapes your lips before Karina’s face lights up and she runs right past you.

“Winter!” Karina shouts, forgetting about you entirely, and rushes toward the girl. She grabs Winter by the face and plants a kiss directly on her lips.

“Karina…” you groan, internally laughing at Winter’s wide-eyed expression. You grab Karina’s hand and pull her away. “Come on.”

“Where are we going now?” she whines, fighting your grip again. “I want Winter.”

“And I want you to drink some water.”

“More champagne?” Karina asks with those round puppy dog eyes. Your weakness that you always struggled to deny; She’s cuter than ever in this moment, rushing to keep up with you, latching onto your arm tightly.

“Maybe after the water.”

“Oh! Alright, but what–” she begins before suddenly squealing and crumpling to the floor.

“Karina!” you gasp, quickly kneeling down next to her. “You alright?”

“It… it…” her lip quivers and she brings her knees up to her chest, slowly tears pool up in her pretty eyes. “It hurts.”

“Aww baby,” you pull her into a hug and rub her back. “What am I ever going to do with you?”

“Karina!” Winter catches up, joining the two of you on the floor. “What is wrong with you?”

“I think I rolled my ankle,” she sniffles as you let go of her.

“Does this hurt?” you start gently flexing her ankle before Karina inhales sharply.

“Owie…” she pouts, quietly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry baby,” you reach forward and tenderly wipe her eyes, trying your best to avoid smudging her eyeliner.

Trying to be as careful as possible, you place her foot in your lap and begin massaging her ankle. Around you, the crowd pretends to ignore what’s happening, but envious glances occasionally catch your attention. You know very well they would do anything to trade positions with you, but all they can do is watch.

Meanwhile, Karina’s staring at you and her beauty has never hit harder. You feel your entire body burn warm under her gaze as she holds steady, letting your fingers work the joint. She’s in pain, a lot of it, but it’s quickly fading away. For just a moment, the hectic rambles of the event are wiped from your minds, leaving you in a comfort that you’d easily pick over everyone else in this room combined. The crowd no longer matters.

It probably helps that they’re all here to impress you, and not a single one of the millionaires attending would dare say anything but praise – at least not in public. They know better than that. Not that Karina cares what others think, in fact she couldn’t care less about the dull droning coming out of their mouths, the incessant forced-flattery whenever anyone would find the courage to talk to you. She knows they’re fake.

That’s probably why she decided to get so drunk tonight – an attempt to actually enjoy the evening. It doesn’t happen often, but you always have fun when it happens; Her silly, dorky behavior carries a charm that took barely more than one interaction for you to fall in love with. At this point, you’re far more entertained by her antics than the thought of listening to another wave of the gilded gibberish you’ve been enduring all evening. It was time for you to actually enjoy the six figures you spent on this party, and for you, that meant being with your girl.

“God, you look so beautiful right now,” you whisper while gently massaging your fingers into her ankle. “Can you walk, or should I carry you?”

“Or I could carry you,” Winter adds cheekily.

“That’s what I want, I want Winter to carry me,” Karina giggles as you help her to her feet. She frowns and looks down, testing her ankle. “I think I can walk, but I need…”

“I’m here,” you smile, slipping your arm around Karina’s waist and holding her up. “Winter, sweetheart, could you ask one of the staff to bring water and another bottle of champagne up to our room? And then please join us as well if you’d like a break from…” you gesture broadly at the swath of designer suits and dresses filling the room.

She nods.

“More champagne?” Karina’s voice jumps with excitement at the sound of more alcohol.

“Not for you,” Winter sings before scurrying off.

“You said that’s what you wanted, didn’t you?” you open the door and walk Karina to the grand staircase. “How can I say no to my princess?”

Karina leans over and kisses you on the cheek. “Do you love your princess?” her voice sweetens like syrup.

“More than anything,” you answer.

“More than your cars?

“More.”

“More than your house?”

“More than all of my houses.”

“More than your business?”

“Are you kidding me? I just ditched my business back there so that I could spend some time with the love of my life,” you point out. “Now, enough silly questions,” you add, leaning in and kissing her.

She giggles before squealing as you sweep her off her legs and into your arms.

“What?” you smile down at her and start climbing the stairs. “I’m not having you hop up these.”

Karina stares up warmly at you, her face brimming with emotion. She holds on tight as you walk her up the steps, smiling but also a bit on edge. She’s thinking about something, and she’s thinking hard.

“Yes?” you encourage her. “Think any harder and I’ll start seeing steam come out of your ears.”

“I think…” she begins softly, “the last time you carried me up these stairs was after our wedding.”

“Has it been that long?”

“Yeah,” she smiles up at you, the subtle, rosy alcohol-glow making her face shine more adorable than ever, as if that was even possible. “Do you remember that night?”

“Of course,” you open the door to your bedroom and gently lay Karina down. “Do you remember what happened after?”

“How could I forget?” she whispers with a smile, reaching her arms out towards you. “We had to cancel brunch the next morning because I literally couldn’t walk.”

“Whatever, we needed the sleep anyway,” you laugh before slowly climbing onto the bed with her, sliding your hand gently up her leg as you push her onto her back and carefully lay on top of her. You gently crash your lips against hers, bringing both hands up to her hips.

She kisses back, sliding her arms around your shoulders, running one hand through the hair on the back of your head. Her dress rides up her body as she wraps her legs around your hips, pulling you closer into her embrace, breathing heavily into your mouth.

The kiss turns aggressive. Like a fight, forceful and hostile. Her tongue intertwines with yours, she’s keeping you on your toes, figuratively speaking. Your heart races, trying to keep up with Karina’s passion – she’s unrelenting.

It’s primal instinct at this point. Karina’s warmth and love is all you crave in this world. You slip the straps of her dress off her shoulders before reaching lower and squeezing in her thighs, tightening the grip her legs have on your body. You want her close, as close as physically possible.

Her flowery scent engulfs your mind, numbing it briefly, alongside the subtle citrus taste of champagne on her lips. It would be addiction either way, anything Karina does is addiction for you. She doesn’t even know it, but she has full control of your every thought. She’s what you want, perfect in every way.

“Ahem,” a voice calls from behind.

Neither of you cares, still kissing as if your lives depended on it. Intoxicated and obsessed with the other’s taste, addicted and engrossed in the other’s body. She’s–

“Stop kissing!” Winter slams the door shut, glaring at the two of you with a bottle of water in one hand and champagne in the other.

“Don’t be jealous,” you ease away from Karina with a smile. “You had your turn earlier.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Winter walks over and places the bottles down. “What the fuck Karina.”

“What?” Karina giggles, sitting up in the bed, her dress a disheveled mess. “It’s not our first time kissing.”

“Yeah but in public?” Winter whines. “Everyone saw.”

“And they probably fucking loved it,” you laughed, giving the champagne bottle a shake. “Come on Winter, live a little.”

“Live a little? This was supposed to be a professional event. The entire company is present.”

“Oh please,” Karina scoffs, crossing her arms. “It was so boring.”

“Maybe for you it doesn’t matter, you’re already married to the damn king,” Winter retaliates. “No one cares what you do. I actually have to worry about my reputation. People talk, you know.”

“And you suck the king’s cock every morning,” Karina laughs. “I think your reputation is beyond saving here.”

“W-What are…” Winter stammers and her cheeks burn pink. “Don’t say it like that.”

“How else would I say it?” Karina teases. “Half of them already know your job is to empty his balls.”

“No they don’t!” Winter whines. She’s upset, but the problem is how cute she is even when she’s upset. “And that’s not my job!”

“Oh sorry I forgot,” a smirk flashes across Karina’s face. “Sometimes if you’re a good girl, he bends you over your desk.”

“Karina!” Winter complains.

“Relax Winter,” you uncork the champagne and give it a few shakes.

“Are you…” Winter begins backing away. “Don’t you dare.”

“Too late,” you smirk before moving your thumb aside and begin spraying Winter with champagne.

“My dress!” Winter cries out as she runs away, ducking her head into her arms.

The room erupts as you chase her down, fueled by Karina’s laughs and Winter’s cries. Winter runs around the bed, jumping on it and grabbing Karina for cover. Mouth wide open in shock, Karina shields her face, turning to the side and screaming as you spray her as well, laughing hysterically as you cover her in champagne.

“Babe!” Karina laugh-shouts in disbelief as she looks down at her soaked dress.

“Oh no,” you chuckle before walking over to the table and filling a glass. “Winter, do her a favor and help her out of that dress, it’s all soiled.”

“What about my dress?” Winter whines before unzipping Karina from behind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of yours too,” you smile, holding the glass out for Karina to take.

Karina smiles up at you, her tits on full display, barely covered by the lacy bra she had hiding under her satin gown. She accepts the glass, downing it in one go before handing it back to you.

“Your turn,” you refill the glass and hold it out for Winter.

“I don’t need that, there’s plenty right here,” Winter waves away the glass before crawling in front of Karina. “You drink it, and then drink another one for me,” Winter adds over her shoulder before devoting all of her attention to Karina.

She yanks down Karina’s bra, freeing her tits in all their glory, and shoves her face deep between them, licking up the champagne directly from Karina’s body. You can’t help but smile as you sip, enjoying the view of Winter as she slides her tongue all over Karina’s tits, lapping up anything she can reach – you’re reminded of how fucking lucky you are as you pour another glass of champagne.

Winter squeezes Karina’s tits together, creating a little ravine for her tongue to play in. She makes little circles, pushing her tits in all directions. Meanwhile, Karina’s loving it, eyes closed breathing through an open mouth, soft moans escaping her from time to time, especially whenever Winter’s fingers give her nipples little pinches. It’s hard to say who’s having more fun.

“My God, Winter,” you put the glass down and flip up her dress.

You laugh as she doesn’t even react, not even when you slip your fingers down the back of her underwear. Slowly, you ease your fingers down to Winter’s pussy, playing with her wetness while enjoying the show. “You’re so fucking wet,” you tease, daring a couple of fingers into her entrance.

“Am I?” Winter finally looks back over her shoulder at you, arching her back. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you yank down Winter’s underwear and give her ass a smack. “Right, babe? Wanna see?”

Karina excitedly sits back up and steps off the bed, stands next to you and also slaps Winter’s cheeks.

“Wow,” Karina licks her lips as she frees herself from her champagne-covered dress. “You look so fucking scrumptious.”

Winter laughs, reaching back and giving her own ass a slap. “Are you two just going to keep staring, or is someone going to fucking eat me out?”

“Go on,” Karina whispers as she steps behind you and snakes her arms around your hips. She presses her tits into your back, pushing you forward as her fingers unbuckle your pants. “I know you want her.”

She presses your face into Winter’s cheeks before you can even come up with a response, and your brain immediately turns to mush. You suck on Winter’s folds as hard as you can, trapping her pussy between your lips and flicking your tongue back and forth.

“Oh fuck,” Winter moans out, her knees nearly giving out.

“Get that pussy ready,” Karina calls out to Winter as she yanks down your pants and grips your cock. “Your night is just starting.”

Winter can’t make sense of Karina’s words, or anything for that matter, as she flexes her back, overwhelmed by your mouth. You keep sucking her pussy, using both your hands to spread her soft cheeks as far as they can go, getting your mouth as deep as you can. With your mouth buried in Winter’s pussy, you feel Karina’s fingers gently jerk your cock to life. It doesn’t take long, you’re already rock-hard.

“Oh fuck that, I changed my mind,” Karina gasps before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you out of Winter’s pussy. She tosses you onto the bed and you land on your back right next to Winter who’s still on all fours. “I need this cock so fucking bad.”

“Baby it’s yours, it’s always yours,” you laugh, grabbing your base and holding it straight up, waiting for Karina.

“What the fuck!” Winter whines. “I guess I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Karina rolls her eyes before giving Winter the hardest slap of the night on her ass. “And take this shit off,” she tugs at Winter’s dress. “You’re too fucking cute to be covering up.”

Winter obliges, tossing her dress to the side.

Karina shoves her hand between Winter’s legs. “You’re really so fucking wet,” Karina moans as she shoves two fingers up Winter’s pussy.

“Don’t… Don’t fucking tease,” Winter crumbles to the bed.

“Winter, come here,” you reach over and grab her hand. “I need Karina to ride my cock already, you’re distracting her.”

“Me?” Winter retaliates as you pull her over. She places one knee right next to your ear and lifts her other leg up, following your lead. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“I don’t really care anymore,” you lick your lips at the sight of Winter’s pussy right above you. “Fucking hell, look at you.”

“Oh you like this?” Winter lowers herself just slightly out of reach as you crane your neck up.

She giggles as you give her ass another slap.

“Winter,” Karina scolds, joining the two of you on the bed as she straddles your body. “Turn around first.”

“Oh,” Winter quickly drops her pussy onto your face for just a moment before lifting herself up and flipping around so that she’s facing Karina. “Like this?”

“You’re killing him you fucking tease,” Karina laughs as she takes your cock in her hand and pokes at the precum leaking from your tip.

“Seriously, I’m going to remember this,” you moan, reaching up with both hands to spank Winter’s cheeks.

She giggles again before lowering her pussy down onto your face. Her thighs squeeze against your sides, and her pussy begins painting your face with her wetness. Her playful giggles almost immediately turn into moans, and you can just imagine Karina’s smile as she watches Winter sitting on your face.

It’s exactly what you want, almost sweet, a bit of tang, and unbelievably soft. Her folds press against your mouth hard, twisting and contorting to the shape of your face. You’re suffocating in her pussy and you love it. Just when you start thinking about how this is as good as it gets, your world gets flipped upside down.

Karina moans out, loud enough for you to hear even with your ears squished against Winter’s thighs. She’s lowering herself onto your throbbing cock, and that first bounce nearly makes you erupt on the spot. Karina’s pussy consumes your cock and your entire world. You might be starting to feel the alcohol.

You’re almost scared by how quickly you felt yourself about to bust. You try to hold back, desperately – and of course now Winter decides to start grinding her hips back and forth. Breathing becomes difficult, your body is struggling to hold on, it’s too much. You’re definitely feeling the alcohol.

It’s a battle with your body that you know you’re going to lose, but you still fight on as hard as you can. You start thrusting your hips up, slamming into Karina’s pussy as hard as you can. She starts moaning – perfect. Her pussy tightens, squeezing your cock, it’s almost painful how good it feels now. Her cries muffle, as do Winter’s, and you just know the two of them are glued by the mouths.

The view of Karina and Winter kissing engulfs your thoughts. You’re drooling, still suffocating on Winter’s pussy, and your cock is burning up. The pressure is building, it’s becoming too intense, overwhelming. You hold on, fighting on, trying to make the moment last, gasping into Winter’s pussy as you try to push your hips up.

Then, Winter slips forward just a bit too much, sliding her pussy across your chin. Instinctually, your face follows, and before you know it your tongue is pressing against her tight asshole. You push forward, indifferent, trying to get as deep as possible, using the last remaining ounce of strength in your body as you feel your breaking point approach.

Her asshole feels just as nice against your tongue as her pussy, if not better. Not as wet, but you can feel the tightness. You can feel her reservation, a timidness that fades almost instantly as you press your tongue into her asshole. She eases up, letting your tongue prod and explore her asshole – but it only lasts for a brief, fleeting moment.

Your head drops back, slamming into the bed, and your hips fly up towards the roof. You nearly launch Karina off your cock with how hard you thrust – the final thrust before you blow. Warm and with purpose, your cock shoots deep into Karina’s pussy as you fight desperately for air.

Holding herself just a few inches above you, Winter’s fingering herself, letting her pussy spray across your face with no regard as you gasp it all up, choking through an attempt to catch your breath. She dips her body down every few seconds, bouncing her wet pussy against your face again and again.

But you’re spent. All you can do is lay there, accepting the barrage of attacks, while still internally melting at Karina’s touch. She’s still riding your cock, even as you stop pumping her full, she’s making these little circles with her hips, driving you fucking insane. It’s too much, she’s too good.

Moments pass and Winter collapses next to you, her hand held tightly between her legs, trembling and quivering just enough to notice. Your attention, however, never wavers from Karina. She’s staring down at you, cupping her tits as she grinds up and down your shaft.

She wears this smirk, so confident in her ability. She knows the power she holds over your body, and she fucking loves it, wears it proudly. While from time to time she seeks reassurance with a glance in your direction. The truth is she doesn’t need it, there’s no doubt in her mind that she’s your everything – she owns you.

Karina lifts herself up, your thick white cum threatens to spill from her pussy. She steps off the bed and you almost want to reach out and stop her, but you can’t show how desperate she knows you are. So you let her go, wherever she’s going, and turn your attention to the girl balled up facing away from you on the bed.

You pull your hand back before slamming across Winter’s ass, sending her cheeks recoiling.

“Ah!” she shrieks, instantly turning towards you and covering her behind with her hands. “What was that for?”

“Nothing, just felt like it,” you laugh.

“Idiot…” Winter mutters as she scoots to the edge of the bed. “Is there any champagne left?”

“Yeah,” you sit up next to her and grab your cock. “I think there’s some right here.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she rolls her eyes before giving you a quick couple of playful tugs. “God, why are you such a mess?”

“Me?” you wrap your arm around Winter’s waist and shove your fingers between her legs. You force her thighs apart as she turns into a giggling mess trying to fight you off. “I’m the mess?”

“Stop!” she’s gasping as you finger-fuck her, pulling away and trying to escape. “Please! I… I can’t breathe!”

She’s laying flat on her back now, chest heaving up and down after you let go of her pussy.

Winter props herself up on her elbows and smirks at you. “I can’t believe you ate my ass.”

“I saw how hard you just came, don’t try pretending like you didn’t like it,” you turn away, leaning over the edge of the bed as the room sways side to side – the hangover is going to be brutal tomorrow,

She lifts herself up and sits on the edge of the bed right next to you again. Winter stares at you until you finally look back. She’s truly adorable, and her voice is just as cute when she speaks up. “I never said I didn’t like it,” she adds quietly, tilting her head and smiling at you.

“I’m glad,” you smile. “It was definitely unexpected.”

“Can we… do you think we could…”

“Already horny for more?” you tease when suddenly Winter frowns and her shoulders drop. “Winter–”

“Do people know?” she asks.

“What?”

She looks up at you, a small pout on her lips, eyes tender and delicate. “What Karina said earlier, do people from the company know about…” she adds quietly.

“No one outside of the three of us knows,” you reassure her as you wrap an arm around her shoulders. “She was just teasing you.”

“Promise?”

“Uh, I mean, I didn’t tell anyone,” you smile. “Did you?”

“No! I’d never–”

“Then I promise,” you interject.

Winter’s expression relaxes slightly and she starts to smile. She inches forward just a touch closer to you and her hand moves to your lap.

“Winter…” you breathe softly.

“Don’t think,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss. “You’re the boss, just enjoy the moment.”

Her lips are soft and warm, and they wear the same subtle taste of champagne as Karina’s. It’s like she can read your mind, and she gives your cock a final stroke with her fingertips, sliding up your length before getting up and reaching for the bottle.

“I think I need to slow down,” you comment as she brings the bottle directly to her lips.

She holds the bottle out for you to take, using the back of her other hand to wipe her mouth. “Don’t be a bitch, drink.”

“Winter–”

“Shut up and drink,” she glares. “And then you owe me.”

“I owe you?” you accept the bottle with a laugh and take a sip.

“That’s right, you were supposed to fuck me earlier, remember? Before Karina stole you.”

“Oh yeah, where is she by the way?” you glance towards the door.

“Focus!” Winter whines as she grabs the champagne. She holds the bottle over your head and waits for you to open your mouth – even though you know it’s a bad idea to drink more – and she pours the liquid directly down your throat. “Good boy,” she smiles, emptying the rest of the bottle.

“You’re so fucking cute,” you mumble, trying to steady yourself on the bed, immediately feeling the alcohol from earlier hitting you. “But where’s–”

“She’s on the balcony,” Winter snaps before turning around, sticking her ass out and looking back at you. “Now can you fucking pay attention to me?”

“You’re just…” you pause to reach forward and slap Winter’s ass hard, “a stupid slut.”

“Alright dickface,” Winter rolls her eyes before stepping backwards until her ass is right in front of you. She has her legs just slightly bent, hands on her knees, and back arched just a bit. “Go on then, you know what to do.”

You lean forward, nearly falling forward off the bed, catching yourself against Winter’s ass. She buckles for a moment before steadying herself again, and you feel her hand reaching back to push your face into her. But it’s unnecessary, you don’t need any extra encouragement, the view of Winter’s tight little asshole staring at you was all you needed.

A gentle moan escapes your lips as you spread her cheeks wide. She gives her ass a little shake, right before you lunge forward, shoving your mouth into her ass. You push your tongue forward as hard as possible, entering inside her, licking and poking at her hole.

“Oh fuck,” Winter cries out, bringing her fingers between her legs. “That’s so fucking good.”

It’s addicting. You slide your tongue up and down between Winter’s cheeks before pressing forward again. You push into her asshole, moving your hands from her ass to her hips, holding her steady. Her ass is tight and your tongue struggles, but you try nonetheless, using as much strength as you can to spread her wide. The room is spinning, but you try your best to steady yourself, holding onto Winter’s ass for support.

She lets out a shriek and falls forward onto her knees, holding herself bent over in front of you, her fingers moving quickly between her legs. She’s trembling and writhing on the soft carpeted floor, moaning loudly as she fingers herself.

You let yourself slip off the bed as well and get right behind her. That tight little asshole, glistening with your saliva, is staring right at you. As badly as you want to shove your cock into her, it’s impossible – she’s squirming too much, and you know you’re too drunk to make this work right now.

Instead, you settle with a finger. You shove your middle finger down to the knuckle into Winter’s ass and she screams louder than ever. As you move back and forth, you can feel her fingers also moving in her pussy, so you try to alternate and match her. At the same time, you use your other hand to slap her ass hard, over and over.

She’s screaming and moaning, body twitching. It only takes a few more moments before she collapses to the floor, flat on her stomach, entire body quivering as her fingers slip out of her pussy. She lets out a long, drawn-out moan as you pull your finger out of her.

“Are you alive?” you chuckle, giving her ass a few squeezes.

“No,” she moans.

“Well, that’s an issue.”

“You�� you need to fuck… me…”

“I think maybe you just need to rest up a bit.”

“No!” she replies forcefully despite still having no energy. “On bed, from behind.”

“Winter–”

“Now.”

You sigh before laughing and shaking your head. Then, you bend down and pick her limp body up from her armpits and place her stomach down against the edge of the bed. Her legs dangle off the edge lifelessly.

“Now fuck me,” she mutters.

“Winter,” you laugh again, tracing the red markings you left on her cheeks from earlier. “This isn’t happening.”

“Okay,” she sighs quietly, and within seconds she’s out, snoring softly.

You give her ass a little pat before putting on a robe and stumbling to the balcony. Outside, you find Karina leaning against the railing, holding an empty glass in her hand, her dress thrown on messily.

“Think you’ve had enough yet?” you take the glass from her hand and place it down before wrapping an arm around her waist, leaning against the railing with her.

“That’s why I’m out here,” she smiles at you for a second before turning to the view again. “Needed the fresh air.”

“You and me both.”

“How’s Winter? I heard her screaming.”

“Turns out she likes getting her ass eaten, who woulda known.”

Karina laughs. “Alcohol does things to that girl.”

“She also got kinda sensitive about people knowing.”

“What?” Karina cocks an eyebrow. “She knows I was joking, right?”

“Yeah, I told her that,” you gently rub Karina’s hip. “I guess it’s a soft spot for her.”

“She’s a really sweet girl, I hope she doesn’t downplay her success,” Karina frowns. “I really like that one, a lot more than your last assistant.”

“I know, I’d keep her around even if I wasn’t fucking her,” you reply. “She really makes my life a lot easier.”

“Yeah, and she sucks you off,” Karina nudges you in the ribs.

“That part matters less to me,” you turn Karina so that she’s facing you. “I’m more than satisfied with what I’m looking at right now.”

“Is that so?” Karina’s eyes glow in the moonlight.

“Absolutely,” you smile at her. “Although, you’d probably have to start showing up at the offices with me.”

“And have all your employees gawk at me all day?” Karina snorts. “No thanks. They fucking suck at hiding it. If I had a dollar for every time I caught one of them staring tonight, I’d be richer than you.”

“Can you really blame them, have you seen yourself?” you laughed. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

There’s a soft pause, Karina smiles at you, her cheeks still rose-tinted from the champagne.

“I really love you,” Karina whispers.

“And I love you.”

“No, really,” Karina frowns as if she’s being misunderstood. She wraps her hands around your lower back and steps closer. “I really, really love you, so much. So much…”

She stumbles, holding onto your body for support.

“Careful,” you grab her. “Should we sit?”

“No, just hold me,” she replies, squeezing you. “I love you.”

“You’re everything to me,” you kiss the top of her head and gently sway back and forth with her. It’s cold on the balcony, but your body is still warm – probably the alcohol.

Karina lets go of you and takes a step back, leaning against the railing.

“I know you just fucked Winter, but I’m still in the mood.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“Oh?” Karina raises an eyebrow. “You ate her ass and she didn’t even let you fuck?”

“The girl passed out,” you chuckle. “I wasn’t going to wake her.”

“What about you? Any juice left in there?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

She smirks and pulls her dress down again until her tits are out. “Who do you think is asking?” she pulls on the string of your robe.

“For you, always,” you step forward and press your lips to hers. “But I am a little drunk.”

“I can see that,” Karina giggles as she turns around and leans over the railing, lifting her dress up. “Hold onto something.”

“You know,” you step right behind Karina and place your hand on her waist, “if anyone was to step outside right now, they’d see your tits.”

“Who gives a fuck, let them watch,” she giggles, bending over deeper.

“Did you know I love you?” you grab your cock and slide it up against her pussy.

“So I’ve heard,” she lets out a sharp gasp as you enter her pussy. “Oh! Slowly, please.”

“Anything for you,” you whisper into her ear, leaning closer, holding her tightly as you start moving your hips back and forth.

Her breath catches each time you ease your cock into her. It’s not an act, it’s genuine. In the cool breeze of the evening, you were her warmth, and her pussy yours. There’s no need to rush it, you just have to move your hips slowly against her body, anything you did right now worked, driving her insane without being too much.

Soon, the cold air vanishes, and Karina is consumed by warmth. Her pussy burns up, squeezing your cock gently with each thrust. Her body is obsessed, riding the edge, begging for more without being demanding. Even her moans, louder now, are careful and full of love.

And you can feel it all. Every emotion and sensation, you can feel it through her body. She’s squirming, leaning over more, holding the railing harder. Just a bit more, and it takes all the self-control in your body to keep going like this, part of you wants to grab her, take her, use her.

Just not now, because right now is Karina’s moment. It’s her turn to feel good, to feel loved. You aren’t going to take that away from her.

Her pussy warms up some more and you feel her legs buckle. She cries out, and you grab her for support, making sure she knows you have her. A rush of wetness spills out of her, down her leg, past your cock. She’s struggling now, and you’re basically the only thing holding her up – you can’t even thrust anymore, you’re just holding her as her pussy squeezes down on your cock.

“I love you,” you whisper into her ear before kissing her on the cheek.

She moans a response, still high off her orgasm. It takes her a few moments, a few moments of warmth where you simply hold your cock deep inside her. Finally, she regains enough strength to hold herself up, and she looks back at you over her shoulder.

“C-Can we go inside?” her teeth chatter.

You take her hand and walk her back to your room, closing the balcony door behind you. On your bed, Winter is still laying there with her legs hanging off the edge and her ass up, exactly where you left her earlier. Her cheeks are crimson red, enticing you to walk over and bring your palm down on them yet again, but you hold back.

“Let her sleep,” Karina thinks the same and takes your hand, walking you across the room to one of your armchairs.

She sits you down before dropping to her knees in front of you, staring up at you, gaze as sensual as imaginable. She’s dripping sex appeal from every cell in her body, just by existing, and she knows it, she knows how special she is to you.

“Just relax,” she whispers, delicately stroking your shaft, slowly without pressing. “Let me take care of you.”

Karina leans over and kisses your inner thigh. Just a short peck at first, pausing to gaze up at you before pressing her mouth against your skin again. She kisses deep, sucking and twisting against your skin, leaving a mark before moving her lips back.

Then she presses her tongue to the mark and slides it up your thigh until her lips meet the base of your shaft. She wraps her mouth around the side of your cock and slides her head up and down, as if playing the harmonica.

She’s slow, calculated, deliberate. There’s no need to rush, she knows she has you for as long as she wants – and that’s still not enough. Her lips graze your tip, blessing it with a quick kiss before sliding back down your length and resting against your balls.

Her fingers start to make little circles around your tip and she prods at your entrance lightly with her thumb as her tongue explores your balls. She pushes them around like they’re her toys – which they basically are. Up down left right, wherever she wants, until she opens her lips wide and lets them fall into her mouth.

Karina hollows her cheeks, sucking hard on your balls, coating them in her saliva while sliding her tongue between them. She lets one slip out, squeezing harder against the other until it also escapes. Her thumb is moving a bit faster now, little circles around your tip.

A sharp inhale slides through her teeth before she opens her mouth wide and shoves her face into your taint.

It feels fucking divine, so much better than you were prepared for, you nearly jump out of the armchair. The moan you let out is stifled, your brain doesn’t understand how to react, it’s too much pleasure, an avalanche of dopamine.

At the same time, Karina wraps her fingers around your shaft and starts stroking. She’s no longer slow and delicate, she’s fast. Her lips press hard into your skin, kissing deep, and her fingers give your entire length quick strokes, pausing every few times to make a little circle around your tip with her palm before going right back to your shaft.

“That’s so fucking good,” you moan softly, gripping the armrests until your knuckles turn white. “I fucking love you so much, oh my fucking God.”

She answers with another sharp breath as she backs up just slightly. With her hand still stroking rapidly, she reaches her mouth up and gives your balls a quick peck before pressing her mouth down again, pushing at your taint hard.

Your cock is throbbing, Karina can sense it. She works your length for a few more strokes, giving your skin a few final licks before lifting herself up. Her lips part, she stares at you until you lock eye contact, and then she lowers her mouth onto your cock, replacing her fingers as she moves down.

Inch by inch she goes until her nose presses softly against your crotch before quickly pulling back. Only then does she close her eyes and place her hands on your thighs. She starts bobbing up and down, sucking your cock with everything she has.

It’s inevitable, you’re about to bust. You can’t remember the last time you had a blowjob this fucking phenomal, it’s absolutely perfect to each detail. You can feel her lips squeezing hard against your shaft, her tongue prodding at your tip, the little pressure every time her mouth comes up.

She’s moving steadily, and you’re on the edge. You can’t, no, it’s impossible, but you try desperately to hold on, to make the moment last, begging your body to hold onto the moment for just a bit longer.

You can’t.

The room starts spinning, this time without any credit going to the alcohol. Your cock explodes inside her mouth, gushing cum all over. Instantly, some of it spills from her lips – impossible to contain. But she tries, she tightens her mouth some more, cheeks hollowed once more.

Her eyes flutter open, searching for your gaze, meeting it with more emotion than you can fathom. She’s perfect. Seriously, perfection is all you can think about when you stare down at her, your white mess spilling from her lips despite how hard she sucks against your shaft.

She’s patient, coaxing you to keep going without rushing you. Her tongue pokes and prods gently at your tip, easing out more of your cum until you’re entirely emptied. Everything, she gave you everything, and in return she got everything back, there was nothing left.

Karina sits up, letting your cock leave her lips, ignoring the gush of cum that spills out of her lips and onto her chest. She stares at you, gaze deep and intimidating, focused only on you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

You take her face in your hands, holding her, emotions brimming through your body. Your body is beyond relaxed, blood flowing. You pull her close and press your lips to her forehead, holding for a moment, kissing her gently.

“What did I ever do to deserve someone as amazing as you are?” you whisper softly as you lean back and gaze back into her eyes.

She giggles, then smiles, tilting her head to the side. For a moment, she just stares at you, lovingly and full of emotion. Then, she climbs onto the armchair and wraps her arms around you, holding her warmth against yours, becoming one with you.

She says the line again, you say it right back, and the two of you refuse to let go of the other. Ultimately there’s only one option left – you stay in each other’s embrace until you both peacefully fall asleep, comforted by undying love you share.

---

A/N:

This is a super quick fic. I spent about two evenings on it, purely spontaneous, inspired by my headcannon of them being drunk at that award show. I just love these two girls honestly. I still tried to read through it a few times to make sure there aren't too many mistakes, but sorry if you find some, I also went with present tense instead of past tense with this one so give me some leeway!

I am honestly struggling so hard with some of my other fics (looking at you Dating Seraphs). I know what I want to write, I have it literally planned out, but it's just so tough. Regardless, I appreciate everyone's patience and support. This blog has grown so much more than I could have ever imagined, I just hope I can keep releasing stuff you guys enjoy!

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfiction #aespa karina smut #aespa winter smut #aespa smut

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jungwnies · 1 month ago

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f1 grid (1/2) | oops wrong name

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : accidentally calling them the wrong name for shits and giggles - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : genre : comedy / pranks ୨ৎ : tws : playful banter ୨ৎ : word count : 2305

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i was ctfu while writing this LMFAOO i think my bf would KILL ME if i called him the wrong name 😭 the charles gif makes me wanna 😩

ʚ・max verstappen

you were lounging on the hotel bed while max sat at the little desk beside it, tapping something into his phone. his hair was still damp from the post-qualifying shower, messy and sticking up in tufts. the tv was on, but you weren’t watching. not really. you were focused on your plan.

“tom,” you said casually, stretching out across the mattress. “can you pass me my water bottle?”

max didn’t respond at first, too focused on his phone. but then he froze.

his head tilted slowly, like a machine turning to scan a threat.

“sorry, what?”

you glanced at him, innocent. “water, please?”

now he was fully facing you. his eyebrows raised, that signature are you serious look all over his face. “who the fuck is tom?”

you shrugged. “just asked for water.”

“yeah, but you didn’t ask me.” he leaned back in the chair, arms folding. “you asked tom.”

you bit back a laugh. “you’re overreacting.”

“i’m overreacting?” he repeated, tone flat. “you’re lying on our bed calling for 'tom' and i’m overreacting.”

you picked up your phone like you were checking something. “maybe i got the names mixed up. tom, max. could happen to anyone.”

“not unless tom’s been around enough to replace me in your muscle memory.” you glanced at him and saw he was trying really hard to keep his expression unreadable, but his brow was twitching. “seriously...tom?”

“it’s a joke,” you finally said, unable to hold the straight face any longer. “you’ve been pranked.”

max didn’t speak for a moment. then he shook his head, muttering in dutch under his breath.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he said finally, getting up to hand you the water you never really wanted in the first place. “but if i hear that name again, i’m revoking cuddling privileges.”

you grinned. “noted.”

but later that night, just as you drifted off, you whispered, “thanks, tom.”

max shoved a pillow in your face.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you were in the middle of organizing lewis’ growing sunglasses collection in the closet when he walked in, shirtless and relaxed, holding two smoothie bottles. one was your favorite.

“thanks, marcus,” you said sweetly, taking it from his hand.

he stopped mid-step.

“…come again?” he asked, lips parting just slightly.

you didn’t look up. “hmm?”

he blinked. “what did you just call me?”

you sipped your smoothie. “i said thanks. for the smoothie, babe.”

there was a pause. then—

“marcus?” his voice pitched up at the end like he was genuinely trying to figure out whether he heard wrong… or whether he was being cheated on in real time.

you blinked innocently. “huh?”

he slowly put his bottle down. “babe, i don’t want to jump to conclusions, but...who the hell is marcus? is that some guy from soulcycle or something?”

you stifled a laugh and shrugged. “that name jogs my memory...i thin he just brought me a smoothie once at work? very thoughtful.”

lewis crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, eyebrows up. “wow. okay. and what does marcus do? race? rap? make smoothies for girls who forget their boyfriend’s name?”

you bit your lip, holding the laugh deep in your chest.

he looked away, shaking his head, grinning despite himself. “unbelievable. seven world championships and i’m getting marcus’d in my own house.”

you walked over to him slowly, trying to look apologetic. “lewis—”

“no, no. marcus is probably better at opening jars too,” he said, deadpan.

you finally broke, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. “it’s a prank, babe. from that old trend. there is no marcus.”

he let out a long sigh, dramatically resting his forehead against yours. “you play too much.”

“but you looked so betrayed. it was kind of cute.”

lewis kissed your cheek, then whispered, “you’re lucky you’re adorable.”

as you turned to leave, he added, “but i’m calling you katie all day tomorrow. just for balance.”

ʚ・george russell

it started over breakfast. you were seated at the little table in george’s apartment, scrolling through your phone while he made tea. he was shirtless, hair still a little messy, humming some fleetwood mac song to himself, completely unaware he was about to be mentally ruined before 9 a.m.

“jake, can you pass the oat milk?”

george froze.

you didn’t look up. you scrolled a little more. very nonchalant.

he didn’t say anything at first. he just slowly reached for the oat milk and set it down in front of you — quietly, methodically — then walked around the table and sat across from you with that look.

“who’s jake?” he asked, voice light but suspicious.

you took a sip of your tea. “what?”

“you called me jake.”

“no i didn’t.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you absolutely did.”

you shrugged. “maybe you misheard.”

“i don’t think i did.” he leaned forward, elbows on the table now. “do i know this jake?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile. “i don't know, probably? that's what you heard right.”

george blinked once, then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms like he was preparing to take you to court. “does jake have better hair than me?”

you snorted.

“is he taller?” he asked, a little more seriously now.

“george.”

“no, because if jake is over six feet and makes a good cup of tea, i’m leaving.”

that did it — you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your drink.

george tilted his head. “wait—oh my god. you’re doing that bloody trend, aren’t you?”

you nodded, face buried in your sleeve as you kept laughing.

he exhaled, rolling his eyes as he picked up his mug. “you’re awful. i nearly had a personal crisis.”

“i noticed,” you said between giggles.

“swear to god, if i ever call you ‘sophie’ and you cry, i’m just gonna say it was balance.”

“who’s sophie?” you blinked.

he gave you a look. “exactly.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos was sprawled on the couch, flipping through the channels with one hand and lazily draping the other across your thighs, completely unbothered. it was one of those rare, quiet evenings where neither of you had to be anywhere, the kind that made you feel domestic and soft.

you were curled up at the end of the sofa, scrolling through your phone, when you looked over at him and said, casually, “matteo, can you turn the volume up?”

carlos froze.

the remote paused mid-click. he turned his head, eyes narrowing with laser focus. “what did you say?”

you blinked at him sweetly. “volume, carlos. i can’t hear.”

silence.

then, he sat up slowly — dramatically, even — his hand still hovering in the air like he was physically trying to process what just happened. “who,” he began, “is matteo?”

you shrugged. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” he said, placing the remote down like it offended him, “you just called me matteo. that’s not my name, cariño.”

you bit your lip to hold back the smile. “oh, i must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

carlos leaned forward, one eyebrow raised in complete disbelief. “someone else? so now i am… easily confused with other men?”

you snorted.

“no, no, it’s fine. maybe matteo has better hair than me. maybe matteo owns a vineyard and serenades you with a guitar.”

you lost it at that. but he wasn’t done.

“does matteo also say ‘smooth operator’? or is he a rough operator?” he added, now fully invested in this imaginary rival.

you leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder, voice soft. “carlos, i was kidding. it’s a trend. i called you the wrong name on purpose.”

he stared at you for a beat, lips pursed. “you’re playing with fire, mi amor.”

“i know,” you grinned. “but matteo would’ve let it slide.”

carlos lunged at you with a laugh, wrestling you into his chest. “then go be with matteo! but first, tell him i’m coming for him.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

you were doing your makeup at the vanity in your shared monaco apartment when charles wandered in, fresh from his shower, towel around his waist, hair a fluffy disaster. he looked at you through the mirror, all sleepy eyes and boyish charm.

“lucas, can you hand me my lip liner?” you asked offhandedly, still focused on your face.

you heard the towel drop.

not in the hot, sexy way.

in the he's shocked and spiraling way.

“lucas?” he echoed, voice higher than you’ve ever heard it. “who the hell is lucas?!”

you turned slowly, biting your lip to hide the smile. “what?”

he stared at you like you’d just run him over with a ferrari. “you just called me lucas.”

you shrugged. “did i?”

“YES,” he said, wildly gesturing. “you didn’t even hesitate. you were so confident—like it was natural! like you say it all the time!”

you turned back to the mirror, calmly applying mascara. “you’re overreacting.”

charles dropped onto the bed like he’d been mortally wounded. “lucas. mon dieu. that sounds like someone who wears boat shoes with no socks.”

you bit your lip harder.

“is he french?” charles asked, sitting up. “or worse… italian?”

“it was just a mistake, love.” you said airily, brushing your cheeks.

charles stood, eyes wide. “mistake?! i literally brought you pain au chocolat this morning and kissed your forehead like some guy in a rom-com!”

you finally broke, letting out a full laugh. “charles—”

“no, no, no. this is worse than the monaco curse. lucas. i can’t believe i lost you to someone named lucas!”

you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his dramatically tense shoulders. “babe. it’s a tiktok prank. i made it up.”

he blinked. “so… there is no lucas?”

you grinned. “no lucas.”

he exhaled. “good. because if there was, i’d have to challenge him to a karting race. or maybe just cry.”

you kissed his cheek. “you’re so dramatic.”

he whispered, offended. “it’s my birthright.”

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando were chilling on the couch, deep into a gaming session. or, more accurately, lando was gaming and you were curled up next to him, offering the occasional sarcastic comment and stealing his snacks.

he was laser-focused, headset on, tongue poking out a little as he tried to win some online match.

you waited for the perfect moment, just as he landed a kill and started celebrating.

“nice job, ethan,” you said sweetly, clapping once.

lando froze.

like… absolutely no movement. not in his hands, not in his mouth, not even a breath.

then, very slowly, he turned to look at you. headset slightly askew. brow furrowed.

“did you just call me ethan?”

you blinked. “hmm?”

“hmm?” he repeated, his voice cracking halfway through. “who the fuck is ethan?!”

you shrugged. “just… ethan.”

lando set the controller down like it was made of glass. “is he one of your gym guys? does he have better curls than me? wait, is ethan taller than me?!”

you laughed under your breath. “does it matter?”

“of course it matters!” he cried, fully spinning to face you now, hands on his hips. “you can’t just ethan me and then expect me to cope. i’m not built for this emotionally.”

you fought so hard not to crack. “just someone i know very lightly at the gym, he's a big motivator.”

“oh my god,” lando said, flopping backwards like he’d been shot. “i’m being replaced by a walking affirmation board.”

you finally broke, snorting as you leaned over him. “lando. baby. it’s a prank.”

he peeked up at you. “no ethan?”

“well..." you pause, "just kidding, of course there's no ethan."

he exhaled dramatically. “okay. good. because i was two seconds away from dming every ethan on your follower list and challenging them to a race.”

“you can’t race them all.”

he grinned, eyes gleaming. “watch me.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

it was a quiet sunday morning, the kind that begged for soft sheets, slow cuddles, and no alarm clocks. you were both curled up in bed, tangled under the duvet, with the curtains barely cracked to let the light in.

oscar was scrolling through something on his phone, his head resting against your shoulder, calm and cozy.

you stretched lazily, then nudged his thigh. “asher, can you hand me my water?”

he blinked.

paused.

then, with terrifying composure: “sorry, who?”

you yawned. “water, please. it’s by your side, osc.”

he slowly turned to look at you, expression blank, voice deadly even. “you just called me asher.”

“did i?”

“you definitely did.”

you shrugged, pretending not to notice the sharp turn in atmosphere. “just slipped out.”

oscar sat up a little straighter. “do we know an asher? is there an asher in the paddock? because i swear i don’t know an asher.”

you casually rolled over to the other side of the bed. “he’s someone from uni... no one special just someone i talk to during class for a little laugh.”

oscar scoffed, tone still flat but deeply offended. “he sounds like a real crowd favorite. must be hard, competing with asher and his sunshine energy.”

you were fighting so hard not to laugh, clutching the duvet to your face.

he wasn’t done. “tell me—does asher also give you the inside line into turn 3 at silverstone? does he organize your sock drawer? does he know your coffee order by heart?!”

you burst out laughing.

oscar narrowed his eyes. “you’re pranking me.”

you wheezed, nodding. “i couldn’t keep it going, you looked like you were going to call asher’s imaginary mother and file a complaint.”

oscar leaned back, smug smile on his face. “good. because i was five seconds away from changing your contact name to ashtray and never explaining why.”

you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “no asher. just you.”

he kissed your forehead, muttering, “i don’t trust pranks. but i trust revenge.”

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tommysversion · 2 months ago

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Forbidden Fruit [Part 1] - Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

Summary: he's been watching you for longer than he can remember, thinking he's too old for you, too dangerous. It's easier to keep people at arm's length, and he isn't the roughened lover he used to be. Turns out you don't care much for what he used to be.

Note: I got this out before episode two dropped. There are no spoilers here, just old man Joel being loved.

Word Count: 3.8k. || Part Two Here

- x. -

Joel knows that deep down, he's not the good guy that he tries to be in Jackson. That no amount of hard work and somewhat begrudging neighbourly behaviour will truly ever mask what he really is.

He does a damn good job hiding it, though. Looks almost unassuming with his greying curls, the crows feet forming round his eyes, the glasses he wears more often than not.

Then there's you. God knows how much younger than him - does it really matter, when he's pushing sixty and you're clearly not - and full of life.

He sees you around and just one look at you gets him half hard; you don't even have to fucking do anything, just be wandering past and give him a friendly wave, a half smile.

He finds his eyes glued to your ass more often than not, given your standard attire of a pastel plaid shirt and jeans does nothing to hide your figure. He feels like a dirty old man each and every fucking time, but he can't help it. Especially when you wander past to get ready for a patrol, an honest to god cowboy hat perched on your head, a lasso and a gun on your hip.

It makes some deep buried dark and depraved part of him wish he was still the cocky, confident bastard he once was. The kind who would have no problem whatsoever with talking to you and getting exactly what he wanted. Age has made him hesitate, though, and so he sort of just contends himself with trying to be as subtle as possible with his stares.

He'd be lying if he said he thought of anything else when he fucked his own hand each night, though.

Imagining you. How you might look spread out beneath him. On top of him. How you might sound with his name on your stupidly pouty lips, which he absolutely hasn't made note of or anything.

Joel likes to think he's completely subtle in his interest in you, thinks he might just be burning up inside with his own desires and need, until Tommy calls him the fuck out for it one night.

They're in the bar long after closing time, just the two of them, perks of Tommy being on the governing council, Joel guesses, and two or three glasses of whiskey deep.

"Don't know why you don't just go after her, y'know." Tommy takes a long sip of his drink. Gives Joel a smirk that he never thought he'd see again, given his younger brother is all settled down now, married with a kid and whatnot.

"You know damn well why not." Joel snipes back, refills his glass with a narrowed gaze. "'M too old and I'm too fuckin' dangerous. She'd probably break or something."

Tommy just laughs. But it's more like his old laugh. The slightly dark sound that Joel hasn't heard in years that makes him goddamn certain his brother knows something he doesn't.

"What?"

"Nothin'," Tommy says, tossing another cube of ice into his glass, swirls it around. "Don't blame you for lookin'. Girl's got a sweet ass, and damn, she can ride, too."

There's that tone again, the one that says he definitely knows something. More than knows something. So Joel gives him that look he does that always inevitably has Tommy spilling the beans.

"And how d'you know the girl can ride, huh?"

Tommy snorts, drags a hand through his messy black curls.

"Wasn't always with Maria, ya know. Back when I first came to Jackson... girl can handle her way around a saddle. Ain't half as cocky when she was gushin' all over my cock in a hay bale. Tell y'somethin, never seen a prettier sight than a cockdrunk woman."

He downs the rest of his drink before he shoots Joel a crooked grin.

"And trust me on this one too - she loves her an older man."

Joel doesn't want details. Doesn't care much about something that happened six or so years ago.

What he does take from the conversation stays worked into his head over the next few days. He's just thinking he might make some excuse to leave his office early, to go home so he can either drink himself senseless or fuck his own fist until he has some semblance of self control again.

He's still debating which it'll be when someone knocks on his office door; he looks up, about to tell whoever it is to fuck off, and instead stops. Because there you fucking are, your hair pulled off your face, still windswept. Dressed in a pastel purple and blue plaid shirt, another pair of jeans that should be fucking outlawed and worn cowboy boots.

“Hey, Joel.”

Vaguely, he wonders if this is the first time he’s actually registered you saying his name; he likes the way it sounds in your voice.

“Hey. What can I do for you?” He can’t help but sense some sort of mischief, wonders whether Tommy has decided to interfere, again, in something he has no business in.

“Oh, uh, Tommy said you were the one to go to if the barn door got caught again?”

Joel registers what you’re saying, can’t help but listen to the way his brother’s name sounds in your mouth, as if he’s looking to see if there’s any hint of any sort of affection in it, but he finds none.

He also thinks his goddamn brother is full of shit, because he knows damn well that Tommy is just as capable of fixing the stupid barn door. But Joel is nothing if not an opportunist, and he sees exactly what’s being offered here – an opportunity.

So he gets up out of his chair, pockets his glasses, and gives you a nod.

“Sure. Let’s go get that fixed up before dark.”

- X -

You’re aware of the sheer size of the man beside you as you help him lift the barn door back onto the track it usually slides in. He must be at least sixty, and yet he’s so big and broad that it doesn’t quite show. That doesn’t mean you’re oblivious to the greying curls, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You’re not blind. Maybe you’re just fucked up, because you’ve always preferred older men, at least, since the outbreak.

Maybe it’s some convoluted thought that someone older might be able to keep you safe. As if you aren’t a damn good shot yourself. As if you aren’t entirely capable of keeping yourself safe.

You haven’t been as oblivious to his stares as he thinks. No, Joel Miller is not a subtle man, not anymore. Never has been.

That, and you’ve seen a similar look on his brother’s face, once upon a time. The kind of look that says they want to devour you. To do things to you that’ll make your toes curl.

Like you haven’t been watching Joel since he first set foot in Jackson. Figured maybe you were too young, too out of range of his usual type, whatever the fuck that was.

And then you’d noticed him watching you, dared to perhaps hope, but never make the first move. Until now.

“Thanks for the help,” you say as you test the door, pull it open and closed to make sure it isn’t stuck again.

“’S fine,” Joel answers, shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Walk you home?” You offer, and the hint of a smile curves his mouth.

“Don’t know that I’m the one who needs a chaperone to walk round after dark.”

You laugh lightly as he falls into step with you regardless.

“Ah, Joel, nobody would be stupid enough to lay a hand on me.”

You don’t entirely believe that, but confidence is certainly part of it, and the last thing you want is for him to think you’re someone weak and scared.

“Why, you got some scary ass husband or somethin’ I don’t know about?” Joel asks, and you can hear the hint of jealousy in his tone, even if he thinks you won’t; it lights up something in your belly that trails all the way down to your core.

“Pff, no. No husband. No boyfriend. Just me, and apparently I’m scary enough.”

You give him time to take all that in, but that means you arrive at his house far too soon with very little progression in conversation. You’re almost feeling disappointed when he speaks again.

“Comin’ in for a drink?”

Joel isn’t sure where that confidence came from. Maybe the way you’ve confirmed there’s no significant other in your life. The almost flirty way you’ve spoken to him. The way you had seemingly no issue getting up in his space as you fixed the barn door.

He notices, too, the way your eyes flicker with something like triumph at the offer, before you just nod, follow him up the steps and into the house.

- X -

Joel watches the way your lips curve around the glass tumbler, and he really thinks he should be more focused on his own liquor consumption at his age more than the way it looks, but he can’t help it.

Unbidden, his mind gives him a picture of your lips wrapped around something else entirely, and for the first time since Tommy shared his little bit of “wisdom” about you the other night, he resents his brother for it. Because of fucking course his goddamn brother would have had the balls to just make a move. So why doesn’t he?

As he’s pondering this, he’s oblivious to your gaze, focused on him over the rim of your glass. They’re so alike, and yet so different, the Miller brothers. You haven’t quite worked out what makes Joel tick yet, can sense a sort of brooding, shut off darkness in him that you aren’t entirely certain you’d like to see unleashed.

What you do know, though, is that you’ve caught his eyes on you more than once. That you want him, even if it’s only for one night, that you don’t care if he shreds your heart to pieces after, so long as you get one single night where you can see what it’s like to be his.

And so while he’s still lost in thought, you down the rest of your drink and cross from your chair to his, straddle his lap and tap him lightly on the cheek.

“Hey, still with me?”

Not a lot takes Joel by surprise; he wasn’t sure what to expect when you moved, but to find you in his lap is definitely unexpected. He puts his half-finished drink to the side and just looks at you for a second, tries to will his cock into behaving, but it’s too late, he’s already hard as fuck, uncomfortable in his jeans with you pressed against him, and you both know it.

“What’re you doin’, sweetheart?” He manages to get out, because he’s got to be sure you’re not just fucking with him, or making some poor decision fuelled by liquor, even though he doubts the single drink has even touched the sides.

“What’s it look like?” You can feel how hard he is, can’t help but rock into him slightly, taunting, teasing, because God forbid you actually want this.

“Makin’ a real poor decision?” Joel regrets saying it as soon as he does so, and it shows on his face; luckily you ignore him.

“You want me to stop?” you ask instead, your hands at the buttons of the flannel shirt he always wears, a well loved dark green thing that you think sets off the olive tones to his skin perfectly.

He shakes his head so fast he almost feels dizzy, because there’s no way in hell he wants you to stop, but he wants you to understand what you might be getting yourself into.

“Fuck, no,” he almost growls it out, leans in to press a kiss to your bare collarbone where your shirt has fallen. “More just… I'm an old man, darlin', but I've never been good at bein' gentle."

You just laugh, because you don’t want gentle. You don’t want young and sweet and inexperienced. You want whatever the hell is lurking behind his tired gaze.

Still, he doesn’t move until you lean in first, press those pouting lips against his, part them so he can taste liquor and strawberries on your tongue. It’s not until you grind down against him again and moan into his mouth that he reacts.

Then whatever control he has left (which isn’t much) snaps, his hands pushing up your shirt; glad he had the foresight to build a fire when you got in, because the last thing he wants is you shivering for any reason that isn't good, isn't at his hands.

You figure he isn't moving fast enough, help him shed your layers of clothing one by one until you're in his lap in just your emerald green panties, and fuck if Joel doesn't think the colour looks good on you.

His hands are wandering, up from your hips, slowly, cupping your tits and rubbing his roughened thumbs across your peaked nipples. You almost wish you could get him naked, but the most he'll allow is a few buttons of his shirt undone. Not that you're about to complain, so full of want for him that you'll take whatever he gives you.

You can feel the fabric of your panties getting damper with every hungry, open mouthed kiss, your little moans muffled as he slowly draws circles with his thumbs around your nipples, humming when he feels you react.

"Sensitive, huh?" His dark eyes stay fixed on yours as he pinches your nipples gently, making your back arch slightly. "Yeah you are, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You just nod, grinding yourself down against the thick length of him, your hands finding his belt buckle.

He doesn't stop you, too preoccupied with playing with your tits, the way you lean into his touch. Your hand unzips his jeans, frees his cock from the too tight confines, and slowly strokes, drawing a low groan from his chest.

Fuck, but you know what you're doing, slow practised strokes from base to tip, gentle twists of your wrist when you reach the thick head of him, spreading the precum that drips heavily along his length.

"Fuck, sweetheart, don't make me cum before I've got you there-" he warns, and you laugh, not at him, but because you're so fucking pleased that you're having that much of an effect on him.

He shuts you up effectively though, slides one rough hand into your panties and almost immediately finds your swollen clit, rubs circles on it with his thumb, smirking at how soaked he finds you.

"Christ. Don't even need t'get you ready for me, do I?"

You shake your head, but he does it anyway; nobody can say he isn't merciful, Joel thinks, as he slides his index and middle finger into your wet heat, drawing a filthy sound from you as he curls them deep.

He kisses you again, rough and needy, thinks about how if he was five, ten years younger he'd pick you up, carry you to the nearest horizontal surface and fuck you into it. The thought makes his cock throb painfully, but even this is enough, having you in his lap, writhing on his fingers...

You're aware of his mouth on you; on your throat, your collarbones, your nipples, then he moves his fingers a little more and you're aware of nothing beyond your own pleasure, your cunt weeping onto the thick digits as he continues to move them, not stopping until he's absolutely certain you're through it.

"So fuckin' pretty for me, baby. You want to come sit on my cock now?"

Slowly, slowly, he slides his fingers out, enjoys the dazed look on your face as you nod; your ruined panties are dragged down, tossed aside, then you're there, intimately close as he lines himself up, catches the tip of his cock at your soaked entrance.

He lets you sink down onto him with little to no guidance; groans when your hips meet far sooner than he expected.

"Fuck, there's a good girl-"

You make a sound of assent, wriggle in his lap to get comfortable, only serving to make his cock twitch inside you and drag another pretty little sound out.

"You like how it feels?" He knows you do, can tell by the way your pussy tightens around him, trying to pull him in deeper, but he wants to hear you say it, almost needs the ego boost.

"Y-yeah," you breathe out, then, "Joel-"

His name is drawn out, a half plea for something that he isn't quite sure about.

"What d'you need, honey?"

"Need you to move," your voice is almost demanding, somewhere between pleading and insistent, but you'll get what you want regardless.

Joel keeps his hands on your hips, giving you some semblance of control still, but he starts to move, slowly rocking his hips up as you rest your forehead against his.

So maybe it's not what he first pictured, not what he'd have done to you ten years ago, but it doesn't quite matter to him, not when he can feel how wet and tight you are around him, hear every single pathetic little noise you make for him.

Your fingers drag through greying curls, tugging lightly; you're rewarded with another low groan, more like a growl, as his hips snap upwards sharply against yours. You don't get to savour that victory, too preoccupied by the suddenly rougher pace.

"Fuck, Joel-" You gasp and he laughs, tightens his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock just that little bit harder, faster, hitting all the right places inside.

"That's it, good girl," he presses greedy, open mouthed kisses to your throat, keeping up the pace, feeling you tightening around him and knowing without a doubt that you're close already, so worked up for him that tipping you over the edge will be almost easy.

"Such a tight, sweet little cunt, baby, made to take my cock, weren't you?" The filthy words pour out before he can stop them, but you're responsive to those, too, clinging to him, moaning as his cock hits your sweet spot again and again, getting you closer; you try to hold it off, don't want this to be over yet. But God if it isn't difficult.

Joel can feel you trying not to cum, can feel you holding yourself back.

"C'mon, sweetheart, go ahead and cum for me. Y'really think this is gonna be the only time I give you my cock, sweet girl? Fuck, gonna keep this pretty pussy full of me til you get sick of it."

You gasp a moan, because there's no way in hell you could ever get tired of this, of the hint of roughness and the burning passion with which he handles you.

Regardless, once he gives you that permission, even though you didn't need it, your resolve breaks; he presses in deep, grinds his hips against yours so the coarse curls at the base of him brush your over-sensitive clit, and then you're gone, spots in your vision as you cling to him, your cunt fluttering and throbbing around the thick cock splitting you open as your release drips down him, soaking his lap.

Joel groans, almost cums right there, because he can count on both hands and feet how long it's been since he made a woman cum so hard, felt a pussy spasm around his cock and gush fluids into his lap. Fuck, if he doesn't love it.

"Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart," he warns, voice low and rough as he rubs circles on your back, trying to get you through it whilst holding back his own release.

"Please-" Your voice is hoarse, eyes wide and pleading as you look at him, not bothering to finish your sentence and instead leaning in to kiss him.

It's the kiss that pushes him over the edge; years of rough, emotionless encounters, against walls. Bent over surfaces. And here you are, younger than him, softer somehow, kissing him like he's someone good and deserving.

He knows he should pull out of you but it's too late, his cock aches and twitches inside you as his release fills your still fluttering cunt, breaking the kiss only so he can rest his head on your shoulder and try to breathe.

Then your hands are in his hair again, stroking through the soft curls, getting him through the aftermath of his climax with the same gentle touch he gave you.

"Joel," you whisper his name and this time it's not a plea, not an impassioned moan, just your voice being gentle as you continue to stroke his hair.

"Hm?" He's content to just stay like this, actually, even if his joints are starting to protest. He'll deal with that later for another five, ten, fifteen minutes of this with you.

"You don't fuck like an old man." Your voice is soft. Sleepy. Like he's fucked any fire inside you out of you, lulled you into a sense of safety.

Joel can't help it. He laughs, a proper laugh that barely anyone gets out of him these days.

"Guess not, huh."

He feels his softening cock slip out of you, wraps his arms around you and tucks you against his chest.

"Can we do this again?" You dare to ask, because you're feeling sleepy and stupid and high on him, on the feeling of his seed slowly dripping down your thighs as he presses little kisses to your head.

Joel looks down at you for a moment, understands you don't mean right now, but in a sort of ambiguous future way.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Whenever you want. You want a blanket or something?"

Because inexplicably he's worried that you might be cold, as if he's only been watching you to think with his cock and doesn't actually, possibly, maybe care.

You shake your head and nuzzle back into his chest.

"Can we just stay like this for a minute?" You ask instead, and Joel nods, because he really does need to catch his breath, and even if his knees are protesting, he doesn't give a damn, because you're nice and warm in his lap and you fit there just right, like you were made to fit there.

"Yeah, baby. As long as you want."

It won't occur to him until maybe a week or so later, when you're picking strawberries in the greenhouse, that that should have been the moment he realised he was a total, utter goner.

#my writing #my fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #x reader #hbo tlou #hbo joel miller

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lilhughesy · 1 month ago

Text

Yours Truly | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

warnings! childhood friends to lovers trope, slowest of slow burns, descriptions of injury, slight angst with reader and Luke both avoiding their feelings lol, mentions of partying, drinking, and hint of drug use and vapes. word count: 27.3k! (oops!!)

summary: You and Luke were meant to be live long friends with being raised together since you were both in diapers. You experience every part of life with him, whether it be hockey or school. When the two of you enter your late teen years, you start to realize that you no longer saw each other as just friends but are too scared to address it.

a/n: oh my goodness, here she is!! I spent a while working on this one and I'm so sorry for getting away with the word count. I hope you enjoy it!

There were two things that Luke Hughes knew very well in life: hockey, with being given a mini stick practically at birth by his brothers and well, you.

Luke knew Quinn and Jack inside and out. As his older brothers, they were like an extension of him. But at the same time, he knew you at the same level as his brothers. You were also an extension of him and he knew you like the back of his hand.

You had been in Luke's life since basically the very beginning. He couldn't remember a point in his life where you weren't there or more accurately, when he didn't know who you were. Given the close nature of both of your parents, they were beyond thrilled when discovering that the third Hughes and you were going to be born just a week apart.

Ellen and your mother, Mandy, were glued to the hip the second Luke and you were born. You entering the world just six days after he did, which he never seemed to let go of the fact that he was older than you.

It worked out beautifully for the Mothers, as you and Luke had grown to call them. If Ellen and Mandy were not in the same room with both baby you and baby Luke, then it was likely that they were doing "baby-share"; which was essentially taking shifts to watch over the babies.

You and Luke were raised together. You two would be given your bottles at the same times, be put down for your naps at the same time and even sharing a bed together. You and Luke shared toys, to the point where even the Mothers couldn't remember who bought what.

The Mothers loved to coordinate your outfits, essentially treating the two of you like twins that they had together. It was fun for them to dress you and Luke in the same blue onesies or have the world's smallest bow in your hair be the same colour to his little t-shirt. It was absolutely adorable.

Luckily, the two of you were easygoing babies. Neither of you cried much nor made a fuss, more typically being found babbling or playing with your matching Jellycats. Luke having a lamb while you had a bear stuffed animal. Mandy had told her husband, Steven, as well as Ellen and Jim, that it was likely due to you and Luke being able to keep each other company. That the two of you are simply happy when the other is around.

The transition from infants to toddlers was smooth(ish). You and Luke were still the same happy children, constantly giggling with each other and in your own world of Luke and Y/N. You were quick to start forming words and short sentences while Luke was standing and walking.

In the Hughes household, it was louder with a four-year-old Jack yelling at the top of his lungs while chasing after Quinn. Their footsteps cladding against the hardwood while Luke's little head of blonde curls waddled around the legs of the Mothers, and you were tugging at Jim's pant leg and asking for a snack.

"Quinn! Give it back!" Jack's high pitched voice screamed, "Mommy said it's my turn with the red mini stick!"

"Come and get it then!" Quinn taunted his brother, his hand gripping onto the plastic hockey stick.

Jack stomped his foot and huffed, "Mommy!" He cried out at the top of his lungs, which caused Ellen to groan in reaction,

"What is it, Jack?" She called out to her middle son, who was grumbling as he entered the kitchen.

He climbed onto the taller seats by the kitchen counter next to Jim and Steven, who were in midst of talking about hockey.

"Quinny took my mini stick and he's be big stupid head," Jack said to his mom, slouching further into his chair, "Mommy, tell him to go time out, s’not fair."

Ellen opened her mouth to scold Jack for his rude language when a small voice approached her, "Mama!"

Little Luke hugged onto her leg, making her heart melt. She scooped up the youngest Hughes in her arms and Luke was quick to cuddle into his mom. Ellen glanced over at her husband, silently nudging him to handle Jack's situation. However, Jim seemed to be distracted at whatever words you were saying to him and your dad.

"How about, you and Quinny play mini sticks against me and your dad?" Steven suggested to the boy, who's eyes lit up immediately.

"Really?" Jack exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat, "Dad, we're going to win so hard versus you and Stevey!"

Mandy gave the dads a thankful smile before taking little you out of Jim's arms, "You boys have fun now!"

"Do you wanna play, Mandy?" Jack questioned, hopping out of his seat and coming to stand next to Mandy. She laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair,

“Oh, honey. I think it’ll be better if you play with your dad and Steve.”

Jack shrugged, not too bothered nor didn’t seem to dwell too much, he was far more interested in toddler in Mandy’s arm. Your small hand reaching out towards him, which Jack knew meant that you wanted to grab his hand.

Your small hand wrapped around his finger, "Jacky!"

"I wish you could play mini sticks too, Bear... But you're too little," He explained to you, using the nickname that you were given from having a teddy bear that you loved dearly, "One day though! When you and Lukey are bigger, then you can play! I promise!"

With that Jack ran towards Quinn's room to get him to play mini sticks against the Dads. Leaving Ellen and Mandy in the kitchen with their toddlers in their arms.

"Is Lukey!" You pointed towards him while looking at your mom, "Lukey!"

"Bear!" He giggled, his small hand waving at you and you were more than happy to wave back at your friend.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Eventually, you and Luke got a strong hang of walking with your little legs, although trips and falls occurred pretty often. The second you and Luke were running, best believe that Steven and Jim were quick to put the two of you in skates and onto the ice. Luke was a natural skater, while your dad held your hand and helped you go from waddling on the ice to gliding around.

“Daddy, look!” Luke exclaimed as he followed his brothers around the outdoor rink, “I doin’ it!”

“Look at you, Lukey!” Jim laughed, watching his boys skate around the rink. Quinn and Jack were much more fluid with their movements but Luke was getting the hang of it for a two and a half year old.

Steven and Jim were on either side of you, holding onto your pink mittens as they helped you move around. You were capable of shuffling your feet while holding their hands, but the second they let go, you were on your bum on the ice.

“How’s Bear doing?” Quinn asked as he skated over to you, “You’re doing so good!”

You beamed at the eldest Hughes brother, “I no skate Daddy lets me go.”

Quinn chuckled, “Come on, I’ll help you!”

He took both of your hands from your dad and his before he started to pull you along the ice. Quinn skated backwards, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to run into Jack, Luke, or a snow bank. Giggles left your mouth as you glided across the ice with Quinn.

“Okay, I’m gonna let go of one hand now…” He told you, carefully releasing your left hand, “You can do this, Bear!”

Your eyes widened for a moment before Quinn started to slowly skate, and you stayed on your feet as they waddled to match his movement. He grinned at you while Jack whooped in celebration for you from behind, what you didn’t realize is that Quinn had let go of both of your hands and you were officially skating all my yourself.

“Go Bear!” Jack cheered before skating towards you and hugging you, “You did it!”

Luke joined soon after, his little skates only being able to carry him so fast before his arms embraced you, “We dids it!”

“Yay!” You giggled, hugging your best friend tightly.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The Mothers wanted nothing more than to dress you up in cute pink ruffled dresses with flowers, but there was never a point to when they knew you would be in the backyard chasing Quinn around with Luke. Quinn did his best for his young age to make sure that you and Luke were safe. Reminding you two constantly to watch out for the corner of the table or for ledges, or to slow down. There was constant laughter when the four of you kids were together, along with earfuls of arguing.

The moment Jack and Quinn deemed you and Luke to be big enough, they put hockey sticks into your hands. Luke, by default, was able to maneuver the stick around the foam puck very quickly. You, on the other hand, had a bit more difficulty. Jack was jumping foot to foot, while Luke got the hang of the game while Quinn kneeled near you. He taught you how to play, the same way he taught Jack except now that he was older, he was better at explaining things.

Soon, when the four of you weren't in the basement playing knee hockey, you were outside playing road hockey. During the summer, at the Hughes lake house, the four of you would spend your rainy days playing hockey in the living room. If it wasn't one of the warmer months, then you would be playing hockey on the ice with the Hughes brothers.

A laugh escaped your lips as you chased after the puck with Jack right behind you, Quinn was skating backwards while facing you as he protected the net.

“Me! Me!” Luke shouted with the smack of his stick against the ice echoing slightly. You looked up at him, and you pushed the puck with the blade of your stick towards him before falling forward while doing so.

“Oof!” You huffed, fully on your stomach. Although you wore one of Quinn’s smaller jerseys over your coat, you could still feel the coolness of the ice.

Luke shot the puck towards the net, the sharp ping! being heard before he started cheering, “Did you see that?!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around as he looked at his oldest brother.

“Good job, Lukey!” He grinned, hugging Luke’s smaller body.

“Bear!” Luke shouted, turning away from Quinn to look for your reaction — only to see you slowly getting up from your fall and Jack standing next to you, attempting to help you. He immediately skated over, “Are yous okay?” Luke asked you, before also tripping over his own skate and falling down next to you.

You had also fallen back as he collapsed, which only made you start laughing. Jack was standing with his neck extended backwards as he howled out at the scene,

“That’s a bad celly, Lukey! You can’t fall over after you score!” Jack explained to him between laughs.

Quinn skated over to help you get back to your feet while Luke was successful on getting back up by himself. Quinn’s bigger arms pulled the three of you in an embrace, “Teammates hug after one of them scores, like this.”

“He’s right,” Jack nodded, patting on Luke’s back, “But Lukey and Bear aren’t our teammates.” He told Quinn, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled away ever so slightly.

Quinn lowly shook his head at his five year old brother, “Lukey is our brother and Bear is like our baby sister, Jack. We’re always gonna be a team, the four of us are always a team. No matter what.”

Jack seemed to accept and understand that answer, he nodded before hugging his brothers and you a little tighter, “We’re the best team!”

That was what it was like growing up with them. You would be constantly dragged into playing some variation of hockey when the sun was still out, then rushing into either your or their home for dinner. Then the four of you curled up on the couch to watch a movie or to play boardgames.

When school started for both you and Luke, you were ecstatic about meeting new friends. In fact, you told Luke, Quinn, and Jack all about how excited you were as the four of you walked to school. Ellen and Mandy were sure to take a photo of the four of you on the sidewalk, each with a comically large backpack on your backs.

Luke was a bit more nervous about it, but Ellen reminded him multiple times that you and him were in the same class. If he was scared then at least he had you. But in classic Hughes nature, Luke's friendly and happy-go-lucky personality and your bubbly one had the two of you making so many friends on your first day. Though, you and Luke would stay stuck to each other's sides the entire time.

"You can't be friends with her!" A boy told Luke after he opted to sit next to you on the classroom carpet, "She's a girl!"

Luke only shrugged, "So what? She's my best friend!'

You grinned at the blonde boy, "You’re my best friend too!"

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

After school resulted in Ellen taking you to the boys' hockey practices since both of your parents were at work. You and Ellen would sit together in the stands with a blanket draped across your laps as you watched the boys skate. Ellen always bought you a hot chocolate to sip on while you told her about your day at school or about wanting to start reading chapter books.

This routine stayed the same as you grew up. During middle school, you and Ellen would sit and watch the boys practice while sipping on your hot chocolate to keep you warm from the cold air of the arena. Though your conversations slowly changed into new books you wanted to read, news clothes you wanted to buy, or the girls who keep telling Luke that Jack is hot. Which always caused you and Ellen to burst into a fit of giggles.

"I was so confused," You laughed out as you held the warm cup closer to your chest, "Jessica and Megan kept telling me and Luke how hot Jack is and how they wanted to marry him! How weird is that? Plus, what are we supposed to do?"

Ellen chuckled, patting her hand on your thigh in a loving manner, "I suppose you are getting closer to that age where people want to start dating. Jack got his first girlfriend when he was in the seventh grade, remember her?"

You lowly shook your head in disbelief, "Yeah, I kinda remember... I forgot her name but I don't remember them staying together very long."

"Oh, it was definitely a middle school relationship," Ellen said, taking a sip of her hot drink, "I think they dated for 3 days before Jack told her that he wasn't ready for something serious."

Luke would always hear the sound of your laughter, glancing to the stands to see you and his mom snuggled under the 'arena' blanket. It would always bring a small smile to his face, knowing that you were enjoying your time at the arena despite knowing how boring it could be for you.

When practice ended, you and Ellen waited for Luke in the lobby area. You had your hands buried in the front pocket of your hoodie, slightly yawning as you watched Luke's different teammates slowly filter out of the change rooms. You saw his blonde curls emerge from the hallway, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion as he dragged his hockey bag behind him.

"You looked great on the ice tonight, honey," Ellen told her youngest as he gave them a small smile, "Ready to head home?"

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Bear," He sighed, adjusting his grip on his bag, "I'm starving."

Ellen laughed in response to her son before heading towards the automatic glass doors of the arena building. You and Luke followed her towards the car. With Luke placing the hat he initially wore to practice, onto your head.

"Ew Luke," You grimace, pulling the hat off your head, "You sweat in this!"

"It's dry," He said to you with a shrug, watching your hands fumble with his hat, "What did you and Mom talk about during my practice?"

You rolled your eyes at him, "Nothing really, just about how Jessica and Megan are in love with Jack."

"Yeah, no. That's weird." Luke scoffed, while putting his hockey bag into the trunk of the car, "If they spent a day with him, they'll realize how weird Jack is."

You nodded, sliding into the back seat of Ellen's car, "Or they would make bigger heart eyes at him."

"Gross."

Luke sat in the seat next to you in the car, just like always so that you two could talk easily without him needing to crane his neck to see your reactions. Ellen glanced briefly at the rearview mirror to see how you and Luke smiled and laughed with each other, both of you having the same sparkle in your eyes since you were just kids.

The Mothers along with their husbands had a secret bet on you and Luke, with the Mothers rooting for you two to one day end up together like some sort of cheesy childhood friends to lovers romance movie. Jim put his bets on you and Jack, considering how much the two of you bonded as kids and how he never failed to brighten your mood. Your own dad though, he had his bet on you ending up with someone completely different.

Luke led you into his house after Ellen parked in the garage, she commented how Mandy was already inside likely with dinner for Luke.

You walked into the kitchen to see Jack and Quinn at the dining table, quietly conversing over something related to hockey. Ellen was right, as you saw your mom making multiple plates of dinner.

"Hi Mom!" You greeted her, you stood next to her and watched as he placed the cooked chicken on the different plates, "I didn't think you would be here."

She chuckled, kissing your temple, "I got off of work early sweetheart and decided to help out Ellen by cooking"

"Hey Mandy," Luke said casually, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, "Smells good."

Mandy smiled at the youngest Hughes brother, "You can grab a plate honey, I'm sure you're starving from hockey and because you've been growing so much!"

He was. He seemed to be getting taller and taller every time you saw him, even though it was every day. You had always been similar heights with your best friend, but it was now quickly changing. You saw it with Quinn and Jack, how they both seemed to grow tall overnight.

You and Luke had both grabbed plates for yourselves and for Jack and Quinn as you joined them at the table. It was like any other evening where the four of you would catch up from your day’s activities — whether it be about your boring history lesson, drama in amongst classmates, or typically hockey.

It was like routine now, if not your life. Spending time with the Hughes family. The only times you weren’t with them were on the weekend where they would go out of town for a hockey tournament. If you were lucky, you got to watch their tournaments when they played at home. In which those games were always fun to attend.

When you were younger, you always tagged along to their weekend games. It didn’t matter which Hughes brother was playing, because either way you would still sit in the stands and be their loudest cheerleader. Your parents would attend a game here and there, but often opted out to run their weekend errands instead. You still tried to attend as many games as possible — however with Jack, Quinn, and Luke getting progressively more competitive and involved in the hockey world, it was hard to keep up with the multiple games each week.

“We should take advantage of the long weekend,” Jack told the three of you, as he took another bite of his food, “We should go to the ODR and play hockey like how we used to.”

Luke’s eyes lit up at the proposal, “Heck yeah! It’s been forever since we played with Bear.”

“That sounds fun,” You slowly nodded, but inside, you were unsure considering the high intensity that they played. Quinn seemed to have noticed your hesitance by simply reading your body language, “Or we could chill and keep watching friends.”

“Dude, that’s so boring,” Luke whined, “Plus don’t you want extra practice? You’re tryna get into the big leagues aren’t you?”

Quinn scoffed at his youngest brother, “I’m already committed to UMich, you know that.”

“What if we just do both?” You suggested, still poking at your food, “Just don’t be surprised when you guys realize I’m better than you at hockey.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack chuckled, giving you a smirk, “Bet you’ve been getting extra practice this entire time.”

“Mhm, absolutely and I have Jim Hughes as my personal coach,” You grinned, “He loves me more than any of you.”

Quinn laughed at your comments, “Yeah, we’re well aware that you’re the adults’ favourite.”

“No way, Mandy loves me.” Luke interjected with an insulted expression for extra dramatics, “She complimented my height today.”

You only shook your head in disagreement, “She said you’re a growing boy, Lukey. Two different things.”

“You’re just jealous that your mom loves me.” He stated, placing his hands on his hips.

The teasing and banter went on between you and the Hughes brother on a regular basis. Quinn and Jack really did treat you like the little sister they always wanted. The two were always very supportive of you, always put effort into talking with you despite their hectic schedules, and they were protective of you — just like any other older brothers. You and Quinn were close, considering how you would often go to him for advice or input on different issues. Especially on things that Luke just didn’t seem to care too much for, not yet at least. You would go to Jack when you need encouragement, he was the best person when it came to hyping you up.

You held your friendships with Quinn and Jack very close to your heart, however they would never takeover Luke’s spot. He was your ride-or-die, twin flame, and your soulmate. You were convinced of it. You two knew exactly what the other was thinking, only requiring to take a millisecond of a glance at one another to understand. You and Luke could basically communicate telepathically, like when you didn’t like your ice cream flavour and he offered to switch with you… and you didn’t even say a thing.

You walked with Quinn to the ODR, following Jack and Luke as they were both very energized and eager to play with the four of you. “like the old times!” Jack said, as if you four didn’t play together a few weeks ago. Quinn held the two shovels and made Luke carry the different hockey sticks while Jack lugged the bag of skates and pucks. All you were responsible for was holding the bag of hockey gloves.

The four of you plopped down on the cold wooden benches, thankful that they were covered in snow so at least your pants can stay relatively dry. Jack handed out the skates and you four quickly got laced up, however you taking slightly longer in comparison to the brothers who could tie their skates in their sleep.

Quinn and Jack were first to get onto the ice, each with a shovel to clean up some of the snow. You and Luke were soon to join them, both of you with sticks in hand. Once the ice was cleared of snow, each of you skated around for a few minutes.

You enjoyed how the ice felt as you glided around, you loved hearing the sounds of the skate against the ice. The crisp sound of the blade of your stick and the sounds of pucks moving around with it. The soft thuds of each time the blade contacted the puck and the skates carving thin lines against the ice — it was soothing.

“What are the teams?” Jack asked, looking away from the net where he was aiming his pucks at while Quinn was on net duty.

“I call dibs on Bear!” Luke hollered as he maneuvered the puck around on the ice, before passing it to you. You grinned at you received the puck, stick handling a bit before passing it back to him.

Quinn rolled his eyes at Luke’s answer, “You always do.”

Luke shrugged, not bothering to look over at Quinn, “Don’t act surprised. She’s my best friend.”

“Okay, so Jack and Quinn versus me and Lukey,” You said, skating up to Jack with speed before stopping to snow spray him.

Jack looked at you with his jaw dropped and a dramatic expression of hurt on his face, “How dare you. Now my ankles are gonna be wet.”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Not my issue.”

“You got pretty good at that, Bear,” Luke told you as he skated by as he moved away the pucks that wouldn’t be used in your game.

You smiled, “Thanks, I learned from the best.”

“I didn’t teach you that.” Jack scoffed, passing the pucks he received from Quinn to Luke.

You used your stick to lightly cross check him, barely causing him to move, “Not you, dumbass. Mrs. Ellen Hughes taught me.”

“Alright, alright,” Quinn spoke up, motioning for you, Jack and Luke to come closer, “It’s a two v. two, first to five goals wins, best out of three.”

“Prepared to get absolutely smoked!” Jack exclaimed, pointing the end of his stick to you and Luke.

“Yeah right,” Luke replied, shaking his head, “You’re about to get your ass beat!”

Quinn and Luke played defence and goalie while you and Jack mainly played offence. With Jack being significantly more skilled and better than you, but the boys never played to their full effort on days like this. Luke had intercepted a pass between Quinn to Jack, he immediately looking for you.

You tapped your stick against the ice before receiving the puck. You moved your legs to skate past Jack, doing a quick spin move that you learned from watching Quinn play, which made Jack fall over. A laugh escaped your lips as you quickly glanced backwards to see Jack getting up. Quinn was in front of you, wavering his stick in attempts to steal the puck from you before you shot the puck in the direction of the net.

ping!

“That’s in!” Luke yelled out, immediately making his way to pull you into a hug, “Good shit!”

You grinned, your arms wrapping around him as you laughed. Jack and Quinn had also made their way to hug you,

“I can’t believe you broke my ankles!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widened, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

You shrugged, “I watched Quinn play enough times.”

Quinn beamed, his gloved hand ruffling your hair, “I’m proud. That was impressive.”

“Okay, 1-0 for us!” Luke announced, “We start with the puck now.”

The four of you continued to play, slowly adding a bit more banter and play fighting into the mix. Mainly the boys shoving each other or causing the other to trip. You and Jack were at the corner of the boards, fighting for the puck before you decided to shove him using your shoulder with some force. He moved backwards slightly, giving you the opportunity to take the puck, “Oh it’s so on Bear!” He challenged as you grinned at him.

You skated away with the puck, passing it to Luke, he shot the puck but Quinn blocked it with his stick. Luke retrieved it before giving it back to you. You skated towards the net with Jack right behind you, you didn’t see him poke his stick at an angle in attempts to take the puck. But rather causing you to trip over his hockey stick, you fell forwards as you tried to catch yourself before you crashed into the board.

Pain immediately shot up your left arm as you laid against the ice. Your right hand went to your left shoulder, holding it as heat flooded through the entire area.

“Holy shit!” Luke breathed out, already next to you and kneeling beside your crumbled body, “Are you okay?!”

You let out mix of a strangled sob and a cry of pain as you clutched your shoulder. Tears already streaming down your face from the searing sensation, Luke’s eyes glassed over as Quinn pushed him out of the way,

“You’re okay, Y/N,” Quinn told you, as his eyes scanned over you, “What hurts? Is it your shoulder?”

You nodded as another sob came out, “It hurts so bad, Quinn!”

He let out a shaky breath before sticking his hand out to you, “I know it does, Bear… but I need you to get up, okay? Can you do that?”

You sniffled, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, use my hand if you need.”

You slowly sat up, your hand still holding onto your shoulder. You attempted to get onto your skates with struggles before Luke had his hands on your waist, helping you to your feet, “I got you.” He said in a soft voice.

You gave him a weak smile as you hunched over, cradling your left arm.

Quinn had his phone out, calling Mandy, as Luke guided you off the ice with a gentle hand on your back. Jack stood in his spot, still in shock of what had happened. His eyes were wide and watery, and his heart and stomach felt like the pummelled to the bottom of his gut. His heading replaying the moment you crashed into the boards from him tripping you with his stick.

“Yeah, Luke’s got her now… Okay… Yeah, I can do that… No problem… Okay, see you soon Mandy.” Quinn pocketed his phone, his hand running through his hair before noticing Jack, “I just told Mandy what happened and she’s going to meet us at the emergency room.”

Jack slowly nodded, “I- I just… You know I didn’t mean for that to happen right? I was- She just- I don’t even-”

Quinn frowned, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulder as they skated to the rink door, “Obviously it was an accident, Jack. She knows that. Don’t worry.”

“I feel so bad, Q,” Jack choked out, “I shouldn’t have done that. Did you see her face? She’s never going to forgive me.”

“She will,” Quinn reassured him, giving his bicep a light squeeze, “Bear is going to be fine and she’ll definitely forgive you. She knows you weren’t trying to injure her on purpose.”

Jack hesitated before nodding, “So, we’re going to the hospital?”

“Yeah, Mandy says she wants to know if it’s serious or not,” Quinn said as he popped open the rink door and stepped off the ice.

Luke was kneeling at your feet, taking off your skates and helping you put on your snow boots, “Does it still hurt?”

“Yeah, like a bitch,” You mumbled as he sat in the space next to you to take off his own skates. You rested your head on his shoulder, “I think I broke my shoulder.”

He frowned, moving carefully to make sure you didn’t hurt more while using him as a pillow, “I don’t think you can break a shoulder… You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I know… It just hurts a lot.” You sniffled, and occasional tear falling from your eye as you looked up to see Jack and Quinn there.

“I called your mom, she said that she wants you to go to the ER to get it checked out,” Quinn explained to you and he undid his skates, “She’ll meet us there.”

You gave him a small nod, “Okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all.” Jack apologized, concern was written all over his face with his eyes glassy and his mouth in a frown.

“I know, Jack. It was an accident.” You said to him with a small smile, “Can you buy me ice cream as an apology though?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I can definitely do that.”

It turned out to be a minor tear in your acromioclavicular ligament, but it didn’t need surgery which you were relieved about. Jack spent the entire time at the hospital apologizing to you profusely. The doctor told you to keep your sling for six to eight weeks and not do anything that required you to use your bad arm. Your mom took you and Luke home while Quinn and Jack went back to their home.

Luke kept you company as much as he could during your recovery. If he wasn’t at hockey, then he was definitely next to you whether it be watching a new episode of Friends together or playing chess. He made sure to carry your books for you at school, always carried your backpack to and from school, and did everything he could to make your life easier.

Kids at school started to assume the two of you were dating yet again, despite you and Luke having to tell them that you were friends just a few months before. But with Luke being next to you at all times and helping you while you were in your sling, it was hard to imagine that you two were just friends.

And Luke wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not a single person, but part of him didn’t mind that your classmates assumed that you were dating. He knew he couldn’t let a soul know that he thought of this, because it felt wrong. You were you, you were Bear, the same Bear he grew up with his entire life. But for once in his life, he saw you slightly differently than just Bear. He saw a glimpse of what everyone else saw when they looked at you. How much he loved to see you smile or how much he wanted to hear you laugh. He didn’t know what changed, but something did.

And for once, Luke finally started to understand what Jack and Quinn meant to all the times Luke had caught them talking about girls together. How Jack wanted to catch the attention of this girl he met in his math class, or how Quinn was planning on asking a girl to the movies. He understood why Jack liked going to the store to buy a girl a bag of candy or a box of chocolate, it felt nice to do something for you. Even if it was as simple as helping you pack up your bag.

Luke didn’t know what his new feelings meant, the weight that they would hold, or what the future could hold. All he knew that he didn’t see you the same way that he used to, and that you absolutely could not know about how he felt. Not after being each other’s best friend since literal birth.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Senior year of high school was the year everyone dreamed about. You get to have homecoming, winter formal, spring fling, senior prom, and graduation. You finally get to see where life may take you, which college you will attend and the program that will take you to your future career. It’s so exciting.

But somewhat sad since Luke didn’t go to your high school anymore. Once he joined USNTDP, he began doing his schooling online starting your junior year. You had to learn how to get used to not seeing him in the hallways every day and not having someone to talk to on your drive to and from school. You’d always imagine that you and Luke would graduate together, but at least you could both attend each other’s graduation. Even if his is virtual.

Regardless, you and Luke were the same as always, despite having a hiccup in your friendship at the start of sophomore year with clashing friend groups. Turns out, it was a lot easier if you both acted like yourselves rather than trying to fit in with groups you didn’t exactly belong to. That was the only time where you and Luke went nearly four months without speaking, but you had sworn to never do that again once rekindled your friendship.

Obviously you and Luke had small arguments on conflicting views on certain situations, you both being too stubborn to admit you were wrong. But again, you both were able to move past those pretty quickly once the Mothers explained to you both how important it is to communicate, instead of shutting down.

Luke had grown up significantly during the course of high school, he’d grown taller… a lot taller, his hair had become darker naturally and lost its blonde he had as a child, and he became more comfortable with himself. He’d always been a bit more awkward growing up, often relying on you to break any kind of tension in conversation with others. But the more Luke got older, the more confident he became. Not in the cocky sense but rather a quiet confidence. You could tell in the way he carried himself, how he talked to others, and how he stopped searching for validation from people.

Despite you two not attending the same school anymore, you often found yourself driving to his house after classes to hang out with him if he was available. With both Quinn and Jack playing in the NHL, the Hughes household was rather vacant. Luke was now constantly busy with hockey, whether it be practices, team lifts, training, games, or tournaments, his schedule was packed. However, he always managed to make time for you. Granted that time was limited so it was only for an hour or two, but regardless you always appreciated it.

“Hey!” You called out, your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“In my room!” You heard him shout back. You made sure to poke your head in the living room to see if Jim or Ellen were home by any chance.

Seeing that it was only Luke who was home, you quickly made your way to his room. You pushed open his door to see him laying in bed with a cap on his head and his laptop propped up on his chest,

“Hey, how was school?” He asked you as he adjusted his position to make more room on the bed. You slid down into the empty space next to him, resting your head on his bicep,

You shrugged, “Boring as usual, everyone is talking about prom and accepting their college offers.”

“Sounds exciting,” Luke chuckled, pressing the key on his MacBook to lower the volume of his lesson, “Have you accepted any college yet?”

“No, I can’t decide between two schools.” You replied, even though you made your decision a few weeks ago when the school you’d been waiting for had offered you admission.

Luke clicked his tongue, resting his cheek against your head, “You’ll figure it out, don’t stress.”

It became normal for the two of you to cuddle like this. You and Luke loved to snuggle with each other as little kids but during the ages of eight to about fifteen, you both deemed it be weird. But after your boyfriend broke up with you at the end of sophomore year, Luke had stayed over that night to watch Disney movies with you and eat ice cream. With Luke trying to comfort you as you cried that night and your hand holding onto his shirt, he pulled you closer to his chest and you ended up cuddling for the rest of the night.

You told yourself it was strictly platonic, because there is no way that you and Luke could catch feelings for each other. You literally knew each other since you were in diapers. It’d be really weird… right?

Since your sophomore boyfriend broke up with you, you had your fair share of flings and talking-stages. Yet none of these guys seemed to last — they didn’t meet your standards. There was always something off about them and you couldn’t quite figure it out. You didn’t let it bother you too much because you had Luke, who was always there for you. Even if it meant he had to go to your school dances.

You currently stood in front of your mirror, smoothing out the front of your prom dress. A small smile adorned your face as you were finally about to experience your senior prom, a benchmark that you’ve been dreaming of since freshman year. The hundreds of photos you have saved on your Pinterest board of different dresses, hairstyles, nails, and make up looks — all led to this moment.

“Hi sweetheart,” Your mom said as she poked her head in, “Luke’s downstairs, but take your time- Oh, honey, you look absolutely gorgeous!”

Mandy walked up behind you, smiling at you in the mirror as she adjusted your necklace, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks Mom,” You replied while playing with the ends of your hair, “I think I’m ready to head down.”

She nodded, “Ellen and I will need to take so many photos of you two!”

You rolled your eyes in amusement before following her towards the stairs, “She’s ready!”

There were shuffling of feet as you carefully walked down the stairs of your house, cautious not to trip on a step. You made it to the bottom when you looked up from the floor to see Luke standing in front of you in his navy suit with a tie that matched with your dress.

His hair looked perfect, with its curls fluffy and soft. His suit fitted him perfectly, extenuating his broad shoulders and strong arms. Luke’s cheeks were dusted pink, the tips of his ears were flushed as he looked at you.

”You look- uh, good. You look good.” Luke stammered, trying to stay his confident self while complimenting you.

“Just good?” You teased, taking in his flustered state as he cleared his voice. He brushed his hand against your arm,

“You look stunning, Bear,” He told you, this time with better composure and less stutters.

It was your turn to blush as you didn’t expect his words to cause such a reaction in your chest. You felt your heart racing and butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “Really?”

He nodded, “Truly.”

You smiled at him, the edges of your lips reaching your eyes as Luke presented to you your corsage, “This is for you, by the way.”

“It’s so pretty,” You said, your voice light as he adjusted the flower piece on your wrist, “Did Ellen choose this?”

Luke rolled his eyes, “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed, “I kept yours in the fridge, hold on.”

Luke watched as you quickly made your way to the kitchen, his eyes tearing away from the direction you left in once you turned the corner. He looked to see Mandy and Ellen both having their hand over their hearts,

“This is so sweet.” Ellen said to Mandy, who was patting away the tears at the corner of her eyes,

“So adorable,” Mandy agreed, “Our babies are so grown up.”

You returned, holding a similar flower piece in your hands, “Your boutonnière.”

Luke let out a shaky breath as you focused on attaching it to his chest. He was hyper aware of the close proximity, and concerned that you could hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Gorgeous! Now pictures, Mom needs her pictures!” Mandy ushered, using her hands to move you around to stand next to Luke, “Smile!”

Ellen and Mandy must have taken over a thousand photos, constantly changing your positions or changing the angle for better lighting — even eventually telling you two to go outside so Mandy’s garden could also be in the background. Your cheeks started to hurt from wearing the constant smile as you posed next to Luke. You prayed that your face wasn’t noticeably red from Luke having an arm around your waist, or the placement on his large hands in some of the pictures. But it was worth it because Mandy and Ellen took amazing photos that you knew you would be showing your future children one day.

And honestly, you thought that taking photos with Luke and your families was much better than the actual prom itself. Just you and Luke.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, and Luke all sat excitedly in your kitchen, patiently waiting alongside your parents, all of them wearing semi formal clothes. They waited to see which college you decided on right before heading to your high school graduation. You told them to stay in the kitchen as you planned on walking out with your future university’s displayed on the top of your graduation cap.

“I think she’s going to UNC,” Steven told Jim, his fingers drumming against the marble counter, “Maybe Florida.”

Jim hummed, “Lukey, you have any idea where she’s going?”

Luke only shrugged while fiddling with the sleeve of his light blue dress shirt, “I have no idea. She didn’t tell me where she was applying.”

“Any chance she’ll go to UMich with Luke?” Ellen asked to Mandy, who was ironing your grad gown.

“UMich is the best school,” Jack nodded to his mom,

Quinn lightly hit his arm, “Shut up, you never even went to college.”

“Hey, I’m just saying!” Jack laughed, “I’m kidding, wherever she wants to go will be great.”

Mandy smiled, picturing her and Ellen’s babies going from diapers all the way to college together, “It would definitely make our lives easier, but I don’t think she wants to stay in Michigan.”

Ellen sighed, her finger tracing the rim of her glass, “Understandable. As long as our girl is happy!”

“Ready?” You called out, feeling absolutely giddy as you adjusted your white graduation dress and fiddled with the edges of your graduation cap. You heard series of yeses before you took a deep breath. You turned the corner and stepped foot into the kitchen, holding out the cap with your university logo bedazzled on top, when loud cheers broke out.

Luke was first to tackle you into a hug, his arms squeezing around you while he lifted you off your feet, “No fucking way!”

You laughed as you put your arms around him, “Are you surprised?”

“Hell yeah I am!” Luke grinned as he lowered you to your feet. His eyes looking at your chosen university logo again, Luke laughing in disbelief as he took hold of your cap and admired the large M bedazzled in maize and navy gemstones filling the rest of the empty space.

“This is so exciting!” Ellen gushed as she pushed her youngest son out of the way, “Oh my babies are going to college together!”

“Good for you, Bear!” Quinn congratulated you with a big hug with Luke and Jack joining in, “Michigan is lucky to have you.”

“Oh honey, I am so proud of you!” Mandy said with a hand on her jaw, “And you won’t be too far from home! You can visit whenever you’d like! This is so fantastic!”

Your dad hugged you tightly, “My babygirl is all grown up! It’s time to head out so you can graduate!”

The crowd was loud when it was your turn to walk the stage. You could hear Jack, Quinn, and Luke hollering and cheering when your name was announced. You smiled and gave a small wave before shaking hands with your principal and accepting your high school diploma. Your parents and the entire Hughes family were on their feet as they clapped loudly as you walked off the stage.

You met them outside once the ceremony ended, hugging your parents both right when you saw them. Mandy pressing multiple kisses to your head and cheeks as she gushed how proud she was of you.

“Congrats Bear!” Jack exclaimed, giving you a single arm hugged, “Super glad you have two working shoulders when you crossed that stage!”

You rolled your eyes playfully at the mention of your previous injury, “Oh shut up.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Luke said to you as you approached him and he greeted you with open arms. You embraced him, your cheek against his chest,

“Thank you Lukey”

Ellen fished out her phone and pointed at the two of you, “I need my two little graduates to take a photo! Both of you hold up the cap, show off UMich!”

You smiled, holding up one side of your cap as Luke took hold of the other. You were still tucked into his side with his left arm around your waist as the two of you smiled brightly at the camera. You tried to ignore the electric feel of his hand holding your waist while posing for pictures. He never moved that hand as Jack and Quinn hopped in for a few pictures, then the Mothers, and then the Dads.

The Hughes hosted the graduation party in their backyard, lots of the Hughes brothers’ friends attending, many which you were familiar with and a few of your close friends joining too. Ellen went full out with getting large balloons and setting up tables with various snacks and drinks for people to enjoy.

Happiness filled the air, with celebration of achieving a milestone with all of your friends and the buzz of summer without any responsibilities being right around the corner. You were currently catching up with Jack’s friends Alex, Trevor, and Cole — who you were more than familiar with after spending multiple summers at the lake house together.

Luke stood between Quinn and Jack, as they talked about their plans for the summer. But Luke’s attention was elsewhere. He was admiring the relaxed and friendly nature that you held while chatting with the three hockey players. He could see the relief of finishing high school written all over your face, the many nights you spent studying for tests or completing assignments which all paid off. Luke was there with you on those nights whether it be on FaceTime as he kept you company while laying in bed as you flipped through pages, or when you spent the night at his house. Where you sat at his desk, typing away at your computer while Luke rewatched his performance from his previous game and studied how to improve his game.

You were happy, and he swore you were glowing with how the sunlight shined on you.

“When are you going to tell her?” Quinn nudged Luke’s side, breaking his trance. Luke’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Quinn,

“Huh?”

Quinn chuckled, “Oh c’mon dude, you’ve been in love with her for years.”

Luke’s face flushed red, “I have not!”

His palms got clammy the second Quinn called him out. Luke knew he caught feelings for you ages ago, although he didn’t exactly know when. But he told himself that you would never see him the same. He buried his feelings for you to make sure that you or anyone else would never find out. Because as much as he loved you, he would rather just be your friend than to lose you.

“You don’t have to deny it,” Jack snickered at Luke’s obvious embarrassment, “We’ve known for the longest time.”

“And you two are both going to the same college, like bro you’re literally set.” Quinn added, while sipping his drink, “She loves you too if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Luke’s eyes widened even more, “She told you that?!”

Quinn shook his head, laughing under his breath, “No, but I- we can all tell.”

“I just don’t wanna make things weird or mess anything up,” Luke mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing over to you, “We’ve known each other for years and I can’t lose her.”

“You’re being so dramatic,” Jack groaned, “You’re never going to lose her unless you do something royally fucked up because you matter just as much to her.”

“You know her just as well as you know us,” Quinn told Luke, “You’ve got to feel something when you’re around her that tells you how she’s feeling.”

Luke sighed, looking back at you. Your eyes met his and you gave him a small look that was a silent message for, ‘my social battery is going and I need to take a breather’. Luke offered a small nod and his eyes flickered to the glass sliding door, “Sorry guys, hold on.” He quickly apologized to his brothers before leaving them.

“Whipped.” Jack laughed as he lowly shook his head with a small knowing smile on his face.

You had also excused yourself from Trevor’s conversation before meeting Luke by the door. He slid it opened and motioned you to go in, him following you.

“You okay?” Luke asked you softly with an hand on your lower back as the two of you walked towards the living room.

You let out a breath of relief, “Yeah, I’m okay! It’s just hot and lots of talking. I just needed to get away for a little bit.”

He wore a small smile, “Yeah I get that. Good turn out though, eh?”

You nodded, settling onto the couch, “Mhm, I’m happy everyone was able to come. I just can’t believe I’m officially done high school, like, that’s crazy to me!”

“Next stop is UMich,” Luke told you, his arm resting on the cushion behind your back as you laid your head on his shoulder, “Well, lake house summer first then we’re off to college.”

“Another adventure for us,” You sighed, relaxing into his side, “It’s going to be good, Lukey, I can feel it.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Cardboard boxes bumped against your knees as you shift your weight, balancing a duffel bag over one shoulder and clutching your welcome packet between your teeth. It was move-in day which meant it was hot, chaotic, and full of stressed-out parents and RAs with clipboards.

As you finally get the door to your dorm open and drop your stuff inside, a voice behind you called out.

“Need help, Bear?”

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know exactly who that voice belongs to.

“What are you doing here?” You said, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. You and Luke didn’t know which rooms you’d be in prior to move in day, so you were pleasantly surprised to see him.

Luke is standing in the doorway across the hall, holding a mini fridge like it weighed nothing. His curls were a sweaty mess from hauling his boxes upstairs, and there’s a little smile on his face, the same one he’s had since grade three when you two discovered that you would be in the same class together.

“I think we’re living across the hall from each other,” Luke said to you before he kicked his door open with his heel and disappeared into his room for a second before popping back out.

“You need any help?” Luke asked, “You know, since I have strong arms that can carry things for you.”

You wiped away some of the sweat on your forehead, “Oh shush, just because you were at the gym every day this summer doesn’t mean anything.”

Luke nodded, “Okay, let me know if you need any help though.”

“This is going to be so fun, Lukey. Living across the hall from each other.” You laughed, “We should get dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, for sure.” He nodded while shoving the doorstop under his door, keeping it open while he started to settle into his dorm.

You spent the next hour getting your half of the dorm room set up. Your roommate, Lexie, arrived halfway through unpacking with three suitcases, multiple tote bags filled with decor and multiple posters.

“I already stalked the floor on the group chat,” She confessed to you, fanning herself with a laminated packing list, “I think we’re across from some of the players of the hockey team. You know any of them?”

You hesitated slightly while halfway through folding your comforter, “Yeah, one of them.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, “Know him how?”

You shrugged, “We grew up together.”

Lexie paused, then peeked out the open door and immediately spotted Luke across the hall, UMich hockey shirt sticking to his back as he dragged a mattress topper into place.

“That’s Luke Hughes?” She whispered like he’s already a campus celebrity, “He’s on the varsity team. The girls have already been talking about him! Did you know his brothers are in the NHL, they’re like super hot!”

You snorted, shaking your heading slightly, “Gross.”

Lexie glanced between the two of you again, noticing how he gave you a small crooked smile when your eyes met, “You two have that energy, though.”

You put down your comforter and gave her a look, “What energy?”

“You know… the will they finally get together or friends to lovers but haven’t reached the lovers stage yet, kind.”

“We’re just friends,” You laughed as you turned your focus back to your bedding.

Lexie smirked, noticing how your cheeks were slightly pinker than before, “Sure, you keep telling yourself that, and I’ll keep your delusions safe under my pillow.��

Across the hall, Luke tossed a pack of protein bars that Ellen packed him into his desk drawer when his own roommate, Ethan Edwards, walked in. They met each other briefly at the hockey team’s orientation that same morning and they kicked it off.

“She’s hella cute,” Ethan said immediately, dropping his duffel bag and glancing across the hall to your door.

Luke doesn’t even have to ask who Ethan was referring to, “Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Ethan told him, “Girl next door vibes, have you met her yet?”

Ethan chuckled to himself after, realizing the unintended pun that he had just said.

“Yeah.” Luke replied with his voice trying to stay casual, “She’s… Y/N, we’ve known each other forever.”

Ethan eyed him carefully before looking back towards your room, “Forever like ‘same elementary school,’ or forever like ‘you were in love with her before you knew what love was’?”

Luke rolled his eyes at him, “We’re friends.”

Ethan raised both of his hands in surrender, “Dude, no judgment. I’m just saying, you keep looking at her like she’s your favourite highlight reel.”

Luke scoffed and tossed a hoodie onto his bed. But he doesn’t deny it, because Ethan’s not wrong.

Later that day after hours of setting up your rooms, you and Luke ended up in the hallway again. The both of you trying to order pizza while standing on opposite sides of the hall with your doors open.

“What are you getting?” He asked, leaning against his doorframe, with his phone in hand. Luke had his hood over his head like he typically did when he was tired.

“Pepperoni for you and I got veggie, don’t judge. I don’t want to hear your slander.” You mumbled before crossing the short distance to stand next to him. He put his arm around your shoulders as you peered over to look at his phone screen.

“I’m judging a little,” Luke chuckled as he scrolled through his reels, “That’s not real pizza.”

“Says the guy who puts pineapple on his,” You shot back, referring to the night he had requested Hawaiian pizza at the lake house before everyone started to flame him.

“Oh shut up,” He said, drumming his fingers against your shoulder, “That was one time, plus it’s really not that bad. You gotta give it a chance.”

“You’re insane.” You smiled up at him which he returned. Somewhere in the middle of the light and playful teasing, a silence settled, not necessarily awkward. More so the realization that you and Luke were officially living alone and outside of the protection of Jim, Steven, Ellen, and Mandy. You were adults now. You could do whatever you wanted, no one else really knew you two or the history the two of you had. You were just Y/N and he was just Luke. You both felt it, even if you won’t say anything about it.

You stay relaxed at his side, “Is your roommate nice?”

Luke nodded, “Yeah, his name is Ethan. He’s from Canada and he’s really cool, I think you’d get along.”

You hummed, “I’m so hungry.”

“It’ll be here soon, Bear,” Luke reassured you.

You and Luke were quick to fall into a comfortable routine that involved going to classes, him going to practice and team lifts, while you went to study at the library. College has been great, you loved your campus and all of your classes. You loved how you and Luke got to experience it together. He had introduced you to his teammates, Ethan, who you met already, Mark, Dylan, and Mackie. You got along great with them, given how you were used to hockey players from growing up with the Hughes and meeting all their friends. You would study together, attend his games, go to frat parties on the weekends, and grab meals together. It was different in comparison to high school, but a good different. You liked being able to spend so much time with Luke, he was your person after all. Around him, you could be yourself completely.

The late-night quiet of the dorm was comforting and peaceful, if you could ignore the muffled sounds of people laughing and talking down the hall. The clock on the wall ticked softly as you sat at the desk in Luke’s dorm room, your laptop open on one end of his desk, the glow of the screen lighting up the mess of papers and pens across the desk.

It was a familiar scene, one that you encountered on a regular basis. Luke, leaning back in his chair, looking over notes with an expression that could be described as borderline failing miserably but I’m drafted to NHL so my grades don’t really matter. You, on the other hand, are buried in your textbooks, trying to keep your concentration intact while you explain concepts for the tenth time.

You were used to this role, the one where you’re always the one to hold things together academically. But something about this time feels different. Maybe it’s because the room is so quiet, or maybe it’s because of the way his gaze drifts toward you, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something more than ‘help me with this’.

You glanced over at him, and he caught your eye. His lips quirked up into a lazy smile, the one that always managed to make you forget what you were thinking about.

“You look like you’re prepping to solve cancer or something,” He teased, his voice low but playful, as though the joke is the only thing keeping him from drowning in the pile of chemistry notes in front of him.

“Prepping for not failing,” You corrected him with a shrug, before writing down the answer to a problem in your notebook, “Which is more than I can say for someone whose flashcards say ‘thingy that explodes’ instead of ‘combustion reaction.’” You tried to keep your tone casual, but the playful jab has an edge of affection to it.

Luke looked down at his flashcards and groaned, “Hey, it works for me. You don’t see me freaking out over these equations.”

He picked up one of his cards, glancing at it with a concentrated expression, “Okay, so what’s this one again? The thing that goes boom?”

You suppressed a smile, rolling your eyes as you leaned closer to his side of the desk. “You’re hopeless,” You said, taking the card from his hand and flipping it around to show him the correct answer.

“I’m not hopeless,” He replied, dragging his hands down his face and across his jaw in an exaggerated motion. You gave him a small look while lowly shaking your head.

“I’m just… misdirected.” Luke told you while he held up his hands in surrender, mock-pleading, “Come on, save me from myself. Teach me how to actually learn this.”

You can’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Despite the fact that he’s one of the most athletically gifted people you’ve ever met, the way he struggled with academics was almost endearing.

“You know,” You started slowly, inching your chair closer to him, “You could probably ace this stuff if you paid attention to class and not only focused on hockey. I mean, you’re not stupid, Lukey.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your words, “Yeah? Try telling my chem professor that.”

“Your professor is a walking disaster,” You told him with a light chuckle, “And we both know that.”

Luke laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair again, “Yeah, she does tend to go on tangents in lecture. But you’re the one who actually gets this stuff. Seriously, though, how do you do it?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what he meant, “How do I- do what?”

“Get it all,” Luke repeated, waving his hand around the room as if the entire weight of your life hangs in the air. “School. Your friends. Family. Everything. You make it look easy.”

Your heart tugged at the sincerity in his voice. You knew Luke admired you in some way, but hearing it spoken out loud is different. It makes you want to say something, anything, because for a brief moment, you forget about the textbooks and the flashcards. All you can think about is him, sitting across from you like he’s waiting for some grand answer to his question.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I don’t make it look easy,” You told him softly, “I just… I don’t let myself think about it too much. I just do it.”

Luke studied you carefully for a moment. You catch the way his eyes lingered on your face, just a fraction too long for it to be a casual glance. He looks like he’s weighing his options for next words, unsure if he should continue this line of conversation or pull back into the comfortable space the two of you built over the years.

Before you can speak again, Luke cleared his throat and straightened his posture, his playful grin returning, “Well, at least someone here has their life together.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Okay, Mr. 4th overall NHL draft pick.”

His eyes had an unfamiliar glint in them when he looked back at you, his eyes flickered over your features before he turned back to his notes. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to focus on the study materials in front of you. You’re both avoiding the unspoken tension that’s been building between you for weeks now, maybe since the lake house. The tension that’s simmered under your friendly interactions, the flirty banter that’s lingered just a bit too long in the air, the subtle touches that became normal between the two of you.

You glanced at him, and he caught you again. This time, his gaze softened for just a second before he stood abruptly, breaking the moment. “Alright, alright, I need a break. Let’s go get something to eat or something, does ice cream sound good?”

You blinked, surprised at the abrupt change in his energy, but you nodded, “Yeah, sure. Ice cream sounds good.”

Luke pushed himself out of his chair, stretching out his limbs from sitting too long before he grabbed his hat and placed it over his curls that have grown since the start of the school term. He goes to the door and holds it open for you. You follow, but your mind was still tangled in the brief flicker of vulnerability that passed between you just seconds before. You wonder if he felt it too, or if it’s just you. But either way, you’re both pretending it doesn’t matter.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The music is too loud, the kind of bass-heavy, thumping beats that vibrated through your chest. The floor is sticky beneath your shoes, and the air smells like spilled drinks and sweaty bodies. It's the usual college frat party vibe, fun, chaotic, a little messy, and everyone trying to forget about the homework that hung over them like an invisible blanket.

But you don't want to be here. Not really. The only reason you're even at this party is because Lexie convinced you to go, “Loosen up," She said to you while getting ready in your shared bathroom, "Get a little wild, do it for the plot, and it's the weekend."

She’d been pulling at you like that lately, trying to get you to flirt, to have fun. Especially after you told her that you and Luke are strictly friends and will never be more than that. Lexie could see how the built up tension between you and Luke recently has been bothering you, even though you refuse to do anything about it. Every time you spend time with it, the tension thickened where the two of you are both walking on a fine line between staying the same way you’d always been since babies, or maybe exploring something more. At least, that’s how you felt, no matter how much you tried to shove down your feelings.

And tonight, it’s not just that your gaze was drawn to him. It was something else, a sense of jealousy that settled in your chest when you saw him with her.

Luke.

And her.

The blonde. You don’t even know her name. But it didn’t matter. She’s the one hanging off his arm, where you usually stood, she was laughing way too loud at something he barely said. The way she leaned in close, fingers grazing his chest, tilted her head in that practiced way that’s designed to pull guys. You feel like you’re watching something that shouldn’t be happening.

Your stomach tightened as you forced yourself to focus on Dylan and Ethan, the guys from Luke’s hockey team, who were currently talking to you. They were talking, but you’re not really listening. Dylan’s words are a blur, the sounds of his voice blending into the background of your thoughts. All you can think about is Luke being across the room, standing too close to that blonde, his body language open, laughing at something she’s said.

Ethan frowned as he noticed the change in your behaviour. He’d become a close friend while being Luke’s roommate and teammate, meaning that you two had spent decent time together, “You okay?” He asked you over the loud music, his eyes flickered towards Luke’s direction.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrugged, attempting to stay unbothered by Luke and the girl but ultimately failing to hide that from Ethan.

You’re aware that it’s petty and that you shouldn’t really care. He’s allowed to have a life, to talk to whoever he wants. But a part of you, the part that’s been pretending for weeks that you’re okay with just being friends, wanted to scream. Part of you wanted to make him notice you, wanted to pull him away and show him how ridiculous this all feels.

You don’t. Instead, you shift uncomfortably, nodding along with Dylan’s joke, but it’s hollow. You laughed only because it feels like the right thing to do while you tried to distract yourself. It was obvious you’re not really paying attention to anything around you.

And then, of course, you met his eyes. His blue eyes.

Across the crowded room, through the colourful lights and the haze of smoke from people’s vapes and pens, your eyes locked. For a split second, time seemed to slow down. It’s just Luke. Just you. And the rest of the world is a blur. You swallowed hard, unsure of what he was thinking. His face doesn’t show surprise, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.

Then the moment’s over, Luke doesn’t look back at you again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the blonde, who laughed louder than before, and you feel something sharp twist in your gut. You forced yourself to look away, forcing yourself to stop thinking about how things used to be so simple between the two of you. How his attention used to be yours, how you didn’t have to share him with anyone other than his brothers and your parents.

Later into the night, when you’re getting another drink, you spot him across the room again. This time, he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, you could feel his eyes following your movements. His gaze is fixed on you, his expression was unreadable, but you can feel the weight of it on your skin. But you don’t go over to him and you don’t approach. You just stand there for a moment, breath caught in your throat, before you walked away.

You’re not sure how to feel, a part of you wanted to scream at him for even looking at her the way he does. For laughing with her and ditching you at a party. For acting like the last few months when it was just the two of you, sitting together in dorm rooms or late nights at the library, talking about everything and nothing, hadn’t been real. But another part of you, the one that really knows him, tells you it doesn’t mean anything. He’s just doing what he’s always done: being Luke. Being charming. Being the guy who has the drawing confidence that pulls people towards him without him even trying.

But then why was it hurting so much?

You hated the part of you that feels possessive, the part that wants him all to yourself. You never felt this way before, you always knew that he was there for you no matter what. You never had to worry that he would put someone else before you, because it had always just been you and Luke. Disregarding your previous boyfriends, Luke was always there to support you, keep you company, and to comfort you.

Does he even see you the way you see him?

You’ve never been good at saying what you feel, not when it matters or when it comes to big emotions like the ones you’ve been feeling. Maybe it’s better that way. Because if you let yourself admit what’s been building inside you for months, maybe it would destroy everything. Or maybe it’s already too late for that. Now, more than ever, you really wished that you could sit down with your mom or even Quinn to get their advice.

The week after the party feels like walking through fog. Everything is there, but it’s hazy, unclear, the edges softened by an almost unbearable sense of distance. You told yourself that it’s just because you’re both busy studying, he had hockey practices, socials that you don’t really want to go to, but feel obligated to attend. But the truth, buried beneath all the distractions, is that the distance is because of him. You’d been pushing him away because you were scared, after feeling the strong jealousy at the party and seeing him with another girl in his arms, you were scared. You still spent time with him but you kept a small distance, shorter responses, calculated laughs, and avoiding any intimate moments with him.

Luckily, Luke knew you and he kept his distance from you. He knew that you must’ve been going through something, but he wouldn’t pressure you into telling him. He knew you would come around eventually, so he let the distance between you two grow.

Every time you pass him in the hall, the hollow ache in your chest grows stronger, and no matter how much you try to bury it, the jealousy, the longing, it’s always there, just lurking beneath the surface. You see him in the distance, talking to a group of his teammates, laughing too easily with them, and for a moment, you can almost convince yourself that it’s just a harmless crush and how it’s just a phase that will pass. But you know better.

The sharp pangs of something more make it hard to breathe.

He’s so close, and yet, he's always so far away.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, when your feelings started shifting, when the walls you’d built to protect yourself started to crumble. Was it that first time he looked at you, really looked at you, like he saw you as something more than just his friend that he grew up with? Or was it the countless nights, sitting together in his dorm room, laughing over different stupid things, sharing moments you never let anyone else see? Maybe it’s the way his hand brushed against yours, a casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive, or the way his gaze lingered on you just a second too long when he thinks you aren’t looking that made your skin heat up.

The worst part of all of it, was that he seemed so unaware of it and of you. Of the way you’ve been falling for him, little by little, while he remained oblivious to the quiet chaos building inside you. And now, for the first time in your life, you’re not too sure how to act around him. You couldn’t just go back to being the friend you’ve always been, treating him as the same little blonde Lukey that you knew since you were in diapers, because he wasn’t the same as back then. You both grew up, with him becoming an elite hockey player that everyone knew on campus and you were just his childhood friend. But the thought of telling him what had been slowly eating away at you, felt like the most dangerous thing you could do. The risk of losing him completely terrified you.

Tonight was no different, you’re sitting in the library, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead barely enough to drown out the thoughts that were racing through your mind. The place is nearly empty, except for a few scattered students, their heads buried deep in their textbooks. You’re across from Luke again, his hockey gear bag sprawled carelessly beside his chair, his legs stretched out under the table as he typed away at his phone.

You hated how easily he could just turn off everything. He has this ability to compartmentalize, to separate the world from what’s happening in his head. He’d been like this for a while now, confident, composed, a natural at deflecting whatever chaos might be around him.

And you... you’re sitting here, fully aware that the only thing you can focus on was him. How his hair falls over his forehead, how he had been letting his curls grow out, how his shoulders slumped slightly in the chair, how he seemed so at ease even when everything feels like it’s falling apart for you.

Your eyes drifted over to him as he put down his phone, leaning back in his chair with a small sighing exhale. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he could see what you were feeling. But he just smiled at you, that easy, carefree crooked grin that he’s always had since he was a toddler. The one that makes your heart stutter and skip a couple of beats.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Bear,” Luke said, his voice low, but playful. He doesn’t seem to notice how much his words sting, how much it hurts to hear him act like everything is fine when it’s anything but.

You nodded, forcing a smile, “Just trying to get through this stupid twenty page reading, you know how it is.”

He laughed softly, the sound was familiar and comforting. However, there’s a sense of something off in his tone, a subtle edge to it that caught your attention, “I don’t know how you do it, with studying all the time and putting your life into school.”

Your chest tightened at the words, you wonder if he even saw what you’re really struggling with. How much you’re holding back just to keep up the act and how your recent hyperfixation on studying was only a way to avoid confronting your feelings.

“You’ve got other things to worry about,” You told him, forcing the words past the ball in your throat, “I mean, like being the best hockey player on campus?”

Luke smirked, a glimmer of pride flashed in his eyes, “I guess so, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count as an academic achievement. I’m lucky that my best friend is also my personal tutor.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful energy, but inside, you’re a mess. You wanted to tell him that it’s more than that, that you’re not just his best friend. But you don’t. You can’t. Not yet.

Instead, you settled into the silence between you, putting your focus back to your textbook, since it’s all you can do to keep your hands from shaking. He’s sitting there, so close, but it feels like miles of space is between you.

As if by some cruel twist of fate, you saw her again, the blonde. The same one from the party. She walked into the library, head held high, and as she passed your table, not even glancing at you as she offered him a flirtatious smile. He grinned back, a little too easily.

Your stomach clenched with the kind of discomfort you can’t ignore bubbling up, an unspoken reminder of everything you had been avoiding. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter, that he’s allowed to talk to whoever he wanted, that you don’t have a claim over him. But the jealousy still crawled up your throat, and it was thick and suffocating.

You looked away, pretending to focus on your MacBook, but all you could think about is how easily she can just walked into his world, how easily she could claim a piece of him, a piece of the person you’ve always tried to protect.

For a moment, you hated her. You hated how effortlessly she fits into this world that’s always felt just out of reach for you. How she didn’t have to worry about ruining a lifelong friendship and being able to have him as something more. You hated that you wanted to be the one who gets to talk to him like that. To have him look at you, like you were the only girl to walk the Earth.

The walls you had been building this time were crumbling, and the worst part was that you told yourself that it was all your fault. That you let yourself get this attached and that you let yourself care. But the more you saw him with other people, the more you realized that you didn’t even know who you were when you’re not with him. You didn’t know how to be just his friend anymore.

You wanted to say something, and you wanted to reach across the table and tell him everything you had been holding inside. You wanted to tell him how much it was hurting you and how it was slowly breaking you to pretend like you don’t care. But you couldn’t, not when you’re on the edge of something that could ruin everything.

You and Luke walked back to your dorms that night, in a comfortable silence. The February snow falling slowly and landing on your hair, “You okay?” Luke asked you, even though he knew you wouldn’t give him a truthful answer.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “Just been tired lately.”

He nodded slowly, “You’ve been a bit distant lately, you sure you’re okay?”

You hummed, “Just midterm stress getting to me, you know.”

Luke sighed, running a hand through the mess of his curls, “Okay, just cut yourself some slack and don’t overstres yourself, Bear”

“I know, Lukey.”

You said your goodnights before entering your dorm, you relaxed into your bed after getting ready for the night as you pulled out your phone and dialling the number to the person you’d been meaning to talk to, he picked up after the second ring.

“Hey, Quinn,” You mumbled, “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

He chuckled, “No, you’re good. I’m just making dinner right now, what’s up?”

You sunk further into your mattress, holding the phone to your ear, “Just need to talk to someone with emotional intelligence.”

“You okay?” He asked you, you could hear the tinge of concern in his voice, “Is this about Lukey? Or is there some other guy that I don’t know about”

“It’s about Luke,” You said, almost a wave of relief in your voice from finally being able to talk to Quinn, “I think I’m falling hard for him, and he’s been kind of seeing this other girl that he met at some party. And it’s been kinda killing me.”

You could basically hear the frown in his voice, “Lukey’s been talking to another girl?”

You hummed a small response, “She’s really pretty.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Quinn told you with amusement laced in his voice, “There’s no way Luke is actually talking to a girl who isn’t you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s had the biggest crush on you for years, he’s just been too scared to do anything about it,” Quinn chuckled, “I promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Bear, you both need to just take the leap of faith.”

“I just don’t want to lose him, Quinn,” You confessed to him, “He’s literally my other half, I don’t know who I would be without him.”

“And he feels the exact same way about you,” He reassured you with the same comfort in his tone that he always had when talking to you, “It will work out, Bear. Don’t stress yourself too much over it.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The night air was crisp, a slight chill that bit at your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable. Not when you’re wrapped in Luke’s UMich hockey hoodie that was a few sizes too big for you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faint scent of ice and detergent still lingered on the fabric. You sat on the same bench outside the Yost Arena, the one under the flickering streetlight. It’s always a little unreliable, flashing once before settling into its usual steady glow. The rink itself is quiet now, save for the hum of campus around you, like the calm after the storm of the game.

You spotted Luke before he saw you, his large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, curls damp from the shower, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of the game. There’s always an energy about him after a game, restless, electric, but tonight it’s different. Something else is weighing on him, and you could feel it, even from where you sat.

He didn’t notice you right away. His eyes scanned the area, distant, lost in his thoughts, until they finally landed on you. He hesitated for a second before his usual crooked half-smile appeared, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time.

“You made it,” He breathed out, his voice softer than usual.

You nodded with a small teasing grin, “Did you think I wouldn’t? I always come to your game, Lukey. I have to come support my favorite idiot.”

He chuckled, dropping his bag beside the bench near your feet, “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you’d come with the stress you’d been going through,” His eyes glanced to the ground for a moment, then back up to you, something in his gaze shifted, “You know, with midterms and being distant lately,”

You feel your chest tightened at his words, you’ve wondered for a while now if Luke’s had noticed you pulling away. How you were like a thousand miles away and lost in your own thoughts, even when he’s sitting right next to you.

He tried to ignore it, but it’s been hard. It’s like you have been retreating into yourself, and he didn’t know how to reach you. He worried that it was something that he did to you even though he couldn’t exactly put a finger on it… Until it sunk in, how he had been hanging out with that blonde since the party and how he caught your eyes from across the room and how he saw the wave of hurt wash over your face. How he had been spending time with that girl while you buried yourself in studying, just so that you could help him understand the class material better.

“I came because I still care,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

You’re not sure what you expected, but this didn’t feel like the conversation you had in mind when you showed up tonight, only expecting the typical small conversation about his game as the two of you walked back to your dorms like normal. The nervous energy that hung between you both is palpable, and you wonder if he could feel it too.

He ran his hand through his curls while he looked away, his jaw tightened, “I don’t know what’s going on with me and you lately,” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded slowly, the knot in your stomach tightening at his words, “I’m not sure if you felt it too but things between us have been changing,”

Luke looked at you again, his expression was unreadable, “I never meant to push you away or hurt you by talking to that girl, I just-” He hesitated, as if he’s weighing his next words in his head, “I didn’t know how to deal with everything I’ve been feeling and I didn’t want to risk hurting you or anything or losing our friendship.”

His words left you breathless, you knew that you had been distant because of your own feelings and you remembered what Quinn had told you over the phone but hearing him say it out loud makes the weight of it sink in.

You tried to shake off the sudden rush of emotions in your chest, “For whatever it’s worth, I’m still here and been next to you since we were born,”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he gave you that small smile that had always been reserved for you, the one that has always made your heart race. He sat down beside you on the bench, close but not quite touching..

“Thanks for being here,” He murmured, “I don’t deserve it, not after putting you through that.”

You smiled, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over your hands for extra warmth from the chills of March, “You don’t have to deserve it, I’m here because I want to be.”

For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound is the soft rustling of branches in the breeze. You tried to ignore the tension between you, but it’s hard to shake. Luke seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the stone path ahead of you two.

Out of nowhere he spoke up again, his voice low but steady, “There’s this moment, right before a face-off,” He said, the familiar intensity in his voice, “Everything goes still. The crowd, the pressure, even your own thoughts. It all just kinda… locks in. You know something big is about to happen, like you can feel it.”

You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing. His blue eyes are intense, focused, but there’s something vulnerable about him tonight. He’s not the confident hockey player you’ve always known. Tonight, he’s just Luke, the same Luke that carried your backpack every day when you injured your shoulder, the same Luke that held you while you cried after being broken up with, and the same Luke that saw you for the first time in your prom dress.

“That’s how I feel right now,” Luke continued as his voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

The words hit you harder than you expected, you’ve never seen him this serious, you don’t breathe while you held the air in your throat.

He shifted, turning to face you fully, “We’ve been in each other’s lives forever, like since literal birth. You were there before the skates, before the first team tryout, before I ever touched a puck. You've seen every part of me, even the parts I wanted no one else to see,” He hesitated, his eyes never left yours, “And somehow, you stayed.”

Your heart was pounding, but it’s not from confusion or fear. It’s from something else, something you’re not sure you’re ready for, but it’s here, it’s real.

“I don’t know when exactly it changed,” Luke told you before taking a deep breath, “But I know what it is now and I think I’ve known for a while and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I love you, Bear. And not like a best friend, not like someone who’s always been around. I love you in the way that terrifies me, but also makes complete sense in my head. Like it is what I was made for.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words leave you breathless, and the world around you seemed to stand still. You’ve known Luke for so long, but at this moment, everything became so real. All the emotions and feelings that you had been running away from, shoving down, all of it came surging at once.

As if the words aren’t enough, he leaned in closer to you with his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m yours. Always have been, yours truly.”

The moment hangs in the air, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of everything he’s said, the vulnerability, the emotions, and the truth pressed in on you. You finally found your voice, your words soft and filled with a mix of affection and disbelief,

“You really are an idiot,” You said with slight amusement in your tone. Luke furrowed his brows in confusion, and you laughed, a soft and relieved sound, “I’ve been in love with you since you let me wear your jersey in freshman year of highschool and then acted like it didn’t mean anything,”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “Wait, what?”

“You thought you were the only one feeling like this?” You grinned, leaning closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”

Before he could respond, you kissed him.

It’s slow at first, like both of you are testing the waters, unsure but sure at the same time. Luke’s hand curled around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let you go. The kiss deepened and it’s messy, but it’s everything.

When you pulled away, your head spinned from the intensity of it. You rested against his shoulder, his arm easily slipping around your waist.

“Took you long enough, Lukey,” You teased but with affection.

He chuckled softly, his face buried in your hair, “Yeah, but I figured it out, didn’t I?”

And just like that, the world falls into place. The quiet is no longer waiting. It’s where you were always meant to be. The cold still lingers in the air, but it no longer matters. You’re wrapped in the warmth of Luke’s arms, his presence filling the space between you both in a way that makes everything else feel irrelevant. For a few moments, you simply sit there, letting the silence wrap around you like a blanket. The world feels far away and quieter now that the uncertainty that had been chewing away at you had been stripped away.

Luke’s arm is loosely around your waist, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles on your side. His warmth radiating onto you, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to pull away. The rush of everything that’s just happened is still swirling in your chest, but there’s something calming about being here with him now, like this was the only place you were meant to be all along.

“You’re quiet,” Luke mumbled after a while, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s still processing everything too, “I didn’t expect you to- well, I didn’t expect that after my game.”

You chuckled softly, your head still resting against his shoulder, your heart fluttering at the realization that he’s with you like this, “What? You thought I’d just sit here and let you confess your undying love without me saying anything?” You joked, but the words feel different now. More genuine and more real.

Luke shifted slightly, his face turning toward yours. The seriousness in his gaze hasn’t gone away, but there’s something softer in it now,

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way. I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes and your hands found his, intertwining your fingers together. His touch grounded you like always, even when everything around you is shifting.

“Of course I do, Luke,” You replied, “I always have.”

He looked at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he’s trying to make sense of it all. There’s a quiet relief settling on his features, and it makes your heart ache in the best way possible.

“I’m not gonna lie,” He said after a long pause, his thumb lightly stroking the back of your hand, “I’m scared. I’ve always been scared that if I let myself get too close, I’d screw it all up.”

You smiled, the warmth spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hand, “You’re not the only one. I literally had to call Quinn about this, I’ve been terrified of this too, Lukey. But I think… maybe we’ve been scared of the wrong things all along.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been so afraid of messing things up that we’ve missed what’s been right in front of us. We’ve had all this time together,” You chewed the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words, “And yet, somehow, we’ve always been too afraid to take the next step.”

Luke’s gaze softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you, “I don’t want to mess this up, either. I don’t want to lose you.”

You rested your forehead against his, the closeness, the rawness of the moment pulling at something deep inside you, “You won’t lose me, Luke. You’re not going to. But we can’t keep pretending this thing between us isn’t real. It’s been real all along. Even when we’ve been scared. Even when we’ve been apart.”

He let out a long breath that seemed to release some of the tension he’d been holding. He kissed the top of your hair, “I’ve been such an idiot,” Luke mumbled.

You laughed quietly, looking up at him again, “Better late than never, right?”

Luke chuckled, the sound light and easy. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve heard him laugh without the weight of everything else hanging over him, “Yeah. Better late than never.”

But then, his expression grew serious again, and he pulled back slightly, still holding you but looking at you with that intensity that you’ve come to recognized as the Luke who can’t hide his emotions, even when he tried.

“I’ve been thinking about going home this weekend,” He said, almost hesitantly, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I need to get away for a bit. Just to clear my head. But I want to be honest with you, more than I’ve been in a long time.”

You nodded, understanding where this is going, “You’re planning on leaving?”

He bit his lip, clearly conflicted, “I think I need to. But I want you to know, this… like us, it’s not going anywhere. I don’t want to go home and leave things unsaid between us. I need to figure out… well, a lot of things. But not because I want to walk away, I just- I don’t want to mess this up, not when it’s finally real, I just need time.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands to urge him to look at you, “You won’t mess this up, Luke. Not with me. I know it’s scary, but we’ll figure it out. We always have. And if you need to go home, then go. But I hope you know that I’m here for all of it.”

Luke glanced at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, and then he nodded, the weight of the conversation settling in. He pulled you into another hug, it’s firm and comforting. The embrace is a promise of things unspoken, of a future you both want to build. When you pulled back, your faces are still close, your breath dancing in the cold night air.

“Just come back to me,” You whispered, your voice barely above your breath.

“I will,” He promised, his forehead resting against yours, “I’ll always come back to you.”

The days after Luke’s confession feels like a quiet storm brewing. You’ve spent days texting back and forth, trying to find a rhythm again, but the distance he’s always hinted at is still there of being scared to commit to the full thing. He’d gone home for the weekend, as he said he would, and though you’re not surprised, it still feels like a void where his presence used to be.

You think about him often, about the way he held you under the dim glow of that streetlight, his words raw and honest in a way that shook you to your core, “I’m yours. Always have been. Yours truly.” You catch yourself grinning at the memory of it as his confession has been playing on a loop in your head since that night.

You sat in the small study area of your dorm, trying to focus on your biology textbook but found your mind wandering instead. It had been a few days off since the game. Your notes feel like a blur, and every text from Luke feels like a thread pulling you both back into a tangled mess of uncertainty. He’d become distant again, but this time, it felt different. He was holding back, not because of fear, but because he’s not sure how to navigate this new version of the two of you together. It bothered you a bit of how you two finally confronted your feelings but how Luke was so quick to run away from facing the future.

The door to your dorm opened and you looked up to see Lexie, your roommate, standing there, leaning against the frame with a look of amusement on her face.

“You okay?” She asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

You forced a small smile, “Yeah, just studying.”

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips, “Are you really studying? Or are you staring at your phone and thinking about someone in particular?”

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing. “Okay, maybe a little of both.”

Lexie stepped fully into the room and letting the door shut behind her, she sat across from you at the small desk.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but you’re both really not being subtle right now.”

“I’m just…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words, “I’m trying to figure out what this is, you know? I mean, we’ve been friends for literally forever and now things are different, but it’s not like I can just jump into a relationship. Not with everything that’s already happened.”

Lexie watched you closely as her eyes softened, “You’re both clearly so in love with each other, it’s almost painful to watch. Seriously, you said you’ve felt this way towards Luke since high school, and you two have been all flirty since we moved in. I don’t even know how many times he’s been here or you being in his dorm. What’s the hold-up?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I don’t know. I think we’re both still scared, Lexie. I mean, Luke’s been distant again and even though I get it, it’s hard. We’ve never been in this territory before.”

“I get it,” She told you, “But listen, don’t waste time. I can tell you this from watching you two since September, it’s been like eight months now: you are each other’s person. And sometimes the right person doesn’t make it easy, but they’re worth fighting for.”

The weekend passed slowly, Luke texted you a couple of times, letting you know he’s just spent time with Ellen and Jim, and how Mandy had stopped by to visit for a bit. He seemed distracted, but he assured you he was coming back soon. You responded, but each message feels like it’s adding more distance instead of closing the gap.

When Monday finally rolled around, you found yourself walking to Yost almost on autopilot. Your heart beated quicker with each step, you knew he was back today, but you’re not sure what to expect. What do you say after all the unspoken things that hang between you both?

You saw him before he saw you, like always. Luke stood by the rink, talking to one of his Mark and Mackie with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. The moment your eyes met, something shifted. His posture straightened, and his expression softened, but there’s a hesitance in his movements. Like he’s unsure whether to close the distance between you or keep his distance just a little longer.

When you walked up to him, he greeted you with a small smile, his voice laced with a little bit of uncertainty, “Hey, Bear.”

“Hey,” You replied, you paused for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. It felt like you’re both treading carefully, afraid of stepping on the wrong thing, “How was home? How are Ellen and Jim?”

“It was good, they’re good and said they missed you,” He said with his tone flat, “Just needed some time, you know?”

You nodded, a knot forming in your stomach, “I was worried about you.”

Luke looked at you, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes which you couldn’t quite read, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pushing you away,” He admitted quietly, his hands now out of his pockets, rubbing the back of his jaw awkwardly, “I just… I needed some space to think about everything, about us.”

You swallowed hard as you tried to steady the storm of emotions rising inside of your chest, “Luke… I get it, but you can’t keep pulling away like that. We both know we can’t hide from this anymore.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, “I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve screwed up.”

You reached out to him and placed a hand on his arm, mainly to ground him and maybe to ground yourself, “We don’t have to fix everything right away. But we can start with being honest with each other. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re not scared.”

Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration, but there’s a shift in him, something opens up in the way he looks at you, “I don’t want to mess this up again. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, I’ve said this to you before,” You told him, your voice firm and steady now, “But you can’t keep pushing me away, Luke. We’re both here. We’ve always been here.”

He stepped closer, the space between you both shrinking until his breath mingled with yours.

“I’m scared,” He said to you with raw honesty in his voice striking you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, “But I’m willing to figure it out. I’m willing to try, if you are.”

You smiled softly, your chest fluttered at his words, “I’m always going to be here for you, you know this.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re finally both on the same page, facing the unknown together. Whatever happens next, you know this, this is real. The days after that conversation feel different and almost lighter. The weight of everything unspoken seems to have shifted off your shoulders, and though the air between you and Luke is still thick with emotions, it’s a good kind of tension now. No longer is it the uncertainty of what could be; it’s the anticipation of what will be.

You saw him more now around campus, on the rink, in the dining hall and every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged with something new. Every glance lingered just a little longer, every smile felt a little deeper. Luke was trying, and you’re starting to believe in him again.

It was a Saturday afternoon when it finally happened. The weather is crisp, with the kind of chill that bites at your cheeks but feels refreshing on the skin. You sat on a bench near the Yost arena, waiting for Luke to finish practice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced at the screen to see a text from him.

Lukey: Meet me outside in 10? I have something to say.

Your stomach fluttered with the sudden nervous excitement that you’ve been trying to suppress all day. You typed a quick response,

Bear 🧸: is this a “big talk” or more of a “let’s just hang out” thing?

You don’t expect him to reply fast, but less than a minute later, another message from him popped up.

Lukey: It’s big. So I guess we’ll see if you’re still willing to hang out with me after I say it.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You tossed your phone in your tote bag, standing up as you tried to shake off the nerves. A part of you wants to believe it’s going to be something good, but you can’t shake the uncertainty creeping in. What if it’s not what you think?

You don’t have to wait too long before you spot him walking towards you. Luke’s dressed in a sweatshirt, his hockey bag still clinging to him, his eyes locked on you like he’s been waiting for this moment too. When he reached you, there’s no hesitation in his movements. He stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace before you could even speak.

“Hey Bear,” He said, his voice softer than usual, “Are you by any chance still mad at me?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure?” He questioned and pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his brow furrowed in that worried way.

“Yeah,” You replied as you smiled at him, “Just trying to figure us out.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath. There’s a pause, a moment of silence that feels like it stretched for just a little too long, before Luke took your hands in his, holding them firmly, like he’s not going to let go until he’s said everything that’s been weighing on him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” He begins, his voice steady but quiet, “About us. About what happened before I left. And I’ve realized that, all this time, I’ve been too scared to admit it,” He hesitated, swallowing hard before looking at you, “That I want you. I want this with you. No more pretending.”

You could feel your heartbeat against your chest, the words you’ve been waiting for, hoping for, finally spilled from him. You tried to meet his gaze, but it’s hard with your heart pounding so loudly you felt like he could hear it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Luke continued, his hands squeezing around yours, “I want to be with you, for real,” He finished, the words slipping out with a kind of finality that makes your heart soar, “No more playing games or playing it safe, no more holding back.”

You blinked a couple of times as his words sank in, your chest full of emotions you can’t name. Your heart swells with relief, with joy, and with a kind of peaceful certainty that you never thought you’d get.

He stepped closer to you with his face inches from yours now. He paused, looking at you with a softness that’s unlike anything you’ve seen in him before.

“So,” He said with a slow smile forming, “Will you be my girlfriend? I know it’s a big question, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The word you’ve been waiting to hear. The official title. And all you can do is smile because, in that moment, nothing else matters.

“I’ll say yes,” You answered with a firm voice but filled with all the joy you can’t contain, “Since it seems to matter a lot to you.”

Luke grinned and rolled his eyes playfully, his hands slipped to your waist as he pulled you into a kiss for the first time since the two of you had initially confessed your feelings. It’s soft at first but then, as if something inside both of you clicked into place, it deepens, the kiss becoming more urgent, more sure, like this is the moment everything shifted. You’ve both crossed that line, the one between friendship and an official relationship, and neither of you were planning on looking back.

When you pulled away, breathless, Luke rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this, after everything.”

“You’re not the only one,” You mumbled, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “But I’m glad we are.”

The weeks after you and Luke officially got together are nothing short of magical. Every day feels like you’re discovering a new piece of him, and he’s doing the same with you. It’s not the whirlwind passion that you see in movies, it’s more like two best friends who’ve found their way back to each other in the most perfect of ways. It’s soft, slow, and steady.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you find yourselves in his dorm room. You’re sprawled across his bed, watching some random movie that neither of you really cared about. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist, and every now and then, his fingers lightly brushed against the bare skin of your side. It’s a touch so gentle it could’ve been accidental, but it sends a shiver of warmth through you every time.

Luke’s got a half-grin on his face, eyes flickering back and forth between the screen of his laptop and you, “You’re not even paying attention,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes but didn't move to correct him, “I’m watching, I swear.”

“You’re really not,” He paused the movie and turned to face you, his hand resting on your hip, pulling you just a little closer, “What’s your favorite movie then, and why are we not watching it?”

You laughed, glancing at him, half-cocked in mock exasperation, “You know that my favourite movie is Tangled, but we’ve already watched it this week. We’re not doing that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, “We could watch it again. I wouldn’t mind seeing you quote all the lines before the characters do.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you implying that I’m predictable?”

“No,” He replied, grinning wider now, “I’m saying you’re adorable.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and without thinking, you moved closer, your lips brushing lightly against his. It’s a soft, quick kiss, the kind that doesn’t need words. Just the closeness, the quiet moment between two people who’ve found their way to each other and are content in this simple intimacy.

He pulled away just barely, his smile never fading, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good,” You teased before you laughed.

“Very funny,” He deadpanned, “No, seriously. I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

Your stomach did a few flips in your gut, “What do you mean ‘all over again’?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “I mean, I’ve been in love with you since high school, but somehow, even though we’re finally together, every day with you feels like the first time I’m falling for you all over again.”

You smiled softly. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“I try,” He said before a sudden burst of confidence he added, “But seriously, I’m falling in love with you every single day, whether you notice it or not.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I think I notice. In every little thing you do.”

Luke pressed play on his movie, his fingers skimming your sides but he could feel your gaze on him,

“You’re staring at me,” He told you, not even looking up away from his screen. He doesn’t need to, he knows you too well.

“I’m not staring,” You replied, trying to hide your smile, “I’m just… admiring.”

His eyes flickered down to meet yours, “Admiring what, exactly?”

“You,” You said with your voice quieter now, “Everything about you and how easy it is to love you.”

His expression softened and for a moment, he looked a little caught off guard. But then the corner of his mouth curls up in that signature crooked grin, “You’re gonna make me blush,” He teased, though there’s a glint of emotion in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“I’m just being honest.”

“I like when you’re honest,” He mumbled, “You’re the only one who really gets me. And it feels like you always have.”

You stared at him, taking in his curls that were once blonde fall over his forehead, his blue eyes that felt like home to you.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” He whispered and in this moment, with him holding you close, you know that love is made of the smallest, sweetest things.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You’ve never seen Luke look so relaxed.

One hand is loosely resting on the steering wheel, the other draped over the center console, fingers gently tangled with yours. The road stretched ahead in long, lazy lines of sun-drenched pavement, the kind of empty two-lane highway that hums like summer itself. His truck windows are rolled down, the breeze warm against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.

Your feet are tucked up on the seat, his hoodie wrapped around you despite the heat. You’re not cold, you just like how it smells like him. His cologne, the faint trace of detergent, the lingering scent of the rink, even now.

“You know we still have two more hours of this, right?” He said as he glanced over at you with that slow grin that made your stomach flip in the best way, “You’re gonna be sick of me before we even get to the lake house”

You scoffed, leaning your head against the window, still holding his hand, “Impossible. I have life long experience with putting up with you.”

“Putting up with me?” He faked offense, “I’ll have you know I’m a delight.”

“You snore.”

“You drool.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s a low blow.”

He squeezed your hand gently, “Just keeping us humble.”

You laughed as you settled deeper into the seat. The playlist you made together is shuffling through songs, some throwbacks from high school, some new favourites, and a handful that make both of you smile because they only make sense to the two of you. You hummed along to one of them, and Luke started to tap the steering wheel in rhythm, occasionally stealing glances at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

It’s been three months since you got together, even though it has felt so much longer. Since that night under the flickering streetlight outside the Yost, where he finally told you he was yours. And somehow, things haven’t just stayed good. They’ve grown. You’ve grown together. The rhythm you’ve fallen into felt easy now, almost natural. Like every version of your friendship would always just lead to this.

“So,” You started, glancing sideways at him, “You think the Mothers are going to be weird about us sharing a room?”

He raised a brow, “Jim let me start using the truck when I was sixteen. I think they trust us.”

You smirked, “They shouldn’t.”

He laughed with his tone being deep and genuine, the kind of sound that makes your chest feel lighter, “You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace,” You replied.

That shuts him up in the best way. His smile lingered but his eyes softened, and his hand tightened around yours again. You don’t need him to say it, you could feel it.

The miles roll on like memories stitched together, stopping for gas at some random station with sticky floors and surprisingly good coffee, singing loudly and terribly to the songs on your playlists, and debates on whether hot dogs count as sandwiches. He tried to distract you each time you attempted to read the GPS on his phone, and you retaliated by playfully swatting his exploring hands away. At one point on the drive, he pulled over on a scenic overlook just so he could kiss you under the blue summer sky.

Eventually, the trees start to thicken, the air shifting from sun-warmed highways to something cooler, quieter. The lake isn’t in sight yet, but you can feel it and smell it in the pine needles and the earthy scent of the woods. It feels like the world is exhaling, and you’re part of that breath.

You looked over at him again, and for a moment, you didn't say anything. You just look. He has a faint sunburn along the bridge of his nose. His curls are messy from the wind but tucked away under his cap that he always wore. His t-shirt fitted his muscular chest and arms deliciously, and his mouth was curved in a quiet, content line. He looks so perfectly Luke.

“What?” He asked as he glanced at you.

You shook your head, “Nothing. Just… happy.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Luke doesn’t look away, “Me too.”

There’s a long, warm silence that follows, the full and comfortable kind that only exists between people who know each other’s rhythms down to the pause between words. You reached over and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then rested your head there, letting the hum of the road and the quiet promise in his voice settled around you like a blanket.

Luke’s truck rolled slowly up the winding driveway, tires crunching over the familiar gravel path that leads to the lake house tucked deep in the woods of northern Michigan. The air smells like pine needles and sun-warmed water, like every summer memory you’ve ever had stitched into one quiet, golden moment.

You spotted the house just beyond the clearing, same soft blue siding, same sagging porch swing, same wind chimes dancing in the window. But today, everything feels more alive, because this time, you’re showing up not just as his childhood best friend.

This time, you’re coming as his girlfriend.

And both your families already know it, they saw the pictures you had posted on your Instagram.

The truck came to a gentle stop, and Luke killed the engine. He glanced sideways at you with that half-crooked grin that still makes your stomach flutter.

“You ready?” He asked you softly.

You nodded, “Are you?”

He exhaled, then smiled wider, “Yeah. Kind of feels like the end of one story and the start of the one we were always meant to be in.”

Before either of you can open your doors, the front screen door slammed open with a bang.

“They’re here!” Ellen called out with her voice familiar, warm, and joyful.

She’s already moving across the porch with her arms wide, your mom just a few steps behind her, equally glowing.

“My girl!” Ellen beamed as she pulled you into a tight hug that smells like lilacs and lemon and like the childhood you’ve known, “You finally made it.”

“You act like I haven’t been here every year since I was five,” You laughed, burying your face in her shoulder.

“But this is the first time you’re showing up with my Lukey’s hand in yours,” She whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, “It’s about time, sweetheart.”

“I’m not crying,” Mandy said behind Ellen, “I’m just so happy.”

You turned to hug her too, both of you laughing through the swell of emotion.

Jim and Steven come down the steps next, grinning like they’ve already had money on this (which all the parents did). They shook Luke’s hand, clapped him on the back, and pulled you both into what can only be described as a team huddle.

“Welcome back, Bear,” Jim said to you, “Your room’s still upstairs unless, of course, you two are bunking together now?”

“Dad!” Luke choked out which made everyone laugh at his bright red cheeks and ears.

“Don’t worry,” Your dad added, “We all knew this was coming. Your mothers started planning your wedding back in grade ten.”

You groaned and hid your face in Luke’s shoulder while he muttered, “We should’ve eloped.”

The door bursted open yet again and Luke’s brothers came storming out, both already shirtless and halfway through their beers.

“Look who finally figured it out!” Jack yelled, arms wide as he pulled you into a hug.

Quinn fist bumped Luke and then pulled you into a hug, “Happy for you guys.”

“Seriously,” Jack grinned, “The entire family knew this was coming before you two did.”

You glanced at Luke, who was just standing there, hand in yours, cheeks still flushed, watching everyone welcome you like they always have, but now with a tinge of celebration. Because this has always been the hope. The quiet, patient maybe someday that lived in the hearts of everyone who watched the two of you grow up side by side.

By the time the sun was low on the lake and dinner’s sizzling on the grill, you were barefoot on the back deck with a glass of lemonade in one hand and Luke’s fingers loosely twined through your other. Both families are mixed around the kitchen and patio, all joking, retelling old stories, stealing glances at the two of you that are so full of affection it almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

Later, when the stars came out and the lake smoothed over like glass, you and Luke sneaked away down to the dock. The same dock you’ve both jumped off a thousand times as kids. The same one where, last summer before the two of you moved to UMich, he nearly told you how he felt before backing out.

He sat beside you with an arm around your shoulders, the night humming soft and easy.

“Feels like this was always waiting,” He said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded while resting your head against him, “Feels like home.”

And from the porch behind the two of you, your parents and his, laughing over glasses of wine, watching the stars and admiring how the two of you sat on the dock together, they always knew the ending.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The atmosphere is electric. The crowd’s energy is a living thing, a pulsing mass of anticipation, and you can hardly believe you're standing here. The sound of the crowd, the flashing lights, the energy in the arena, it’s all so much bigger than you imagined. It’s real, and you’re here for it. For Luke.

It’s his first game in the NHL, and you’ve never been more proud of him. The guy you’ve known since birth, who had always dreamed of this moment, was finally living it. You still couldn’t quite wrap your mind around it. Luke, in the big leagues even though Jack and Quinn were already in the NHL. It felt like only yesterday you were with him as he practiced on the ice in his backyard with Quinn and Jack, where they were dreaming of this exact moment.

Your heart beated faster as you glance around the arena of the Prudential Center, the excitement practically buzzing through the air. The rink is perfectly lit, the ice shining beneath the lights, the players skating in warm-ups as the crowd cheers, eager to see the first puck drop.

You spotted Luke on the ice, skating effortlessly, with his new red jersey rather than the maize coloured one that you grew used to. His number, forty-three, stood out proudly on his back. You couldn’t help but smile, a deep sense of pride swelling inside you.

“You okay?” Ellen asked you, giving you a nudge as she watched you watch him.

You blinked and laughed softly, still a little in awe of the scene, “Yeah, just trying to believe this is real.”

She grinned, “I bet, he looks like he’s in his element.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so focused,” You admitted with your eyes never leaving him. There’s something about seeing him out there, doing what he’s always loved, that makes you feel like your chest might burst with pride, “He’s been working his whole life for this.”

“I bet it’s a little surreal for you, huh? Seeing him in the NHL after everything you’ve been through?”

You glanced at her, trying to find the right words, but all you could do was nod. It is surreal. But there’s also something comforting about it. This is Luke. The same person who used to steal your snacks and drag you into late-night study sessions. Now he’s here, in the NHL, and he’s still your Luke.

Before you can say anything more, the arena erupted into cheers, signaling the start of the game. The lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice rings through the speakers, introducing the teams. You stand at the edge of your seat, trying to steady your breathing as the players line up. Your stomach flips with nerves on his behalf.

“Number forty-three, Luuuuuke Hughes!” The announcer called out, and the roar of the crowd was deafening.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hands instinctively clasping together as you cheered with everyone else. Luke skated onto the ice, looking confident in his gear, but his eyes were searching the crowd. And when he found you, your heart stopped.

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes locking with yours across the rink. In that instant, the whole arena fades away, and it’s just the two of you. He’s here, doing what he loves, and you’re here, cheering him on like you always promised you would.

You couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of emotion that crashed over you. This is his dream, and you’re living it with him.

The game begins, and the action is intense. The sound of skates carving across the ice, the thud of sticks on the puck, the roar of the crowd, it’s all part of the symphony of professional hockey, and you’re right in the middle of it. The energy in the arena is electric, and yet, you find yourself focused solely on Luke.

Every time he touches the puck, your heart sped up. Every time he makes a good play, you can’t help but cheer louder. And every time he glances over to where you’re sitting, a little smile creeping onto his face, you feel a warmth spread through your chest, a reminder that no matter how far he’s come, he’s still your Luke.

It’s nearing the third period, and the game is close. The tension could be cut with a knife, and you’re on the edge of your seat. The Devils are ahead by one goal, but the other team is pushing hard. You can see the sweat on his forehead as he skated up the ice, determination in his eyes. He’s everywhere on the rink, fast, sharp, and focused. He’s in his element, and it’s breathtaking.

And then, with a swift pass, the puck lands right on Luke’s stick. There’s a fraction of a second where everything feels suspended. Time slowed down, and all you could do was watch him. You knew he’s about to make something happen. You knew he’s about to score.

The crowd goes silent in that split second. Then, as if on cue, Luke releases the puck with a clean shot, sending it sailing past the goalie and into the back of the net. The arena exploded in cheers.

You jump out of your seat, your hands clapping and your throat screaming with excitement. The announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Goal by number forty-three, Luke Hughes!”

You watched as Luke skated back to his teammates, his eyes searching for you again. When he sees you, he gives a small wave, his smile widening. It’s like he’s found you in the chaos of the game, and that makes your heart swelled with happiness.

The game ended with the New Jersey Devils winning, and the crowd was on their feet, applauding the team’s victory. You feel like you’re floating, the adrenaline from the game mixing with the joy of seeing Luke’s hard work come to life.

After the game, you managed to get down to the lower level, waiting for him just outside the locker room. You’re still buzzing with excitement when the door swings open, and there he was sweaty, tired, and but grinning from ear to ear.

He spotted you almost immediately and, ignoring the stream of reporters and fans, made his way toward you.

“You were amazing,” You breathed out, your voice catching in your throat as you took him in.

“Couldn’t have done it without you here,” He told you as he pulled you into a hug, his arms strong around you as he lifted you off the ground in a moment of pure joy, “You know how much this means to me, right?”

You nodded against his chest, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. His success was your success. This victory isn’t just his, it was yours too. The years of support, the quiet moments, the late-night phone calls. You had been with him every step of the way, and now, you get to see him standing here, living his dream.

Finally, you pulled back to look at him, grinning up at him through happy tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “You’ve always believed in me.”

“Of course I have,” You said with your voice thick with emotion, “And I always will.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly, the taste of victory still fresh on his lips. In this moment, with the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears and the world around you seemingly quiet, this was exactly what you waited for in life and Luke Hughes was yours truly.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nj devils x reader

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slmckle · 6 months ago

Text

jj fingering you faster when you say you’re not about to cum :((

(uhmm i got carried away…oops!)

idea inspired by this (that is a p!link don’t open in public lmao)

warnings; NSFW MDNI 18+, p in v, unprotected sex (NOOO), pussy slapping, thigh and ass slapping but only like once, squirting, creampie, praise kink if you squint, this is filthy, jj says mama multiple times, thats abt it i think bbys :)

pink: jj

purple: reader

red/other: my thoughts and apologies (only happens once lmao)

he has you laid on your back, on his bed. your legs are spread and his fingers are so deep inside of you. you can hear the wet sounds of your cunt fill the room, along with your moans and whimpers. he smirks as he sees the pathetic look on your face, he leans down to speak to you, “you gonna cum, mama?” he says with a smirk as his fingers fingers continue their slow, agonizing pace in and out of your cunt, with his thumb circling your puffy clit.

upon hearing these words, you shake your head, voice trembling. “no…” you say, wanting to last longer but you know you’re about to cum. jjs smirk widens as he speeds up his fingers, them plunging in and out of you with ease due to you being so, fucking, wet.

“no, baby? you’re not?” he says, with a condescendingly sweet tone of voice as he hears your shaky voice. his fingers increase speed as they scissor through your aching cunt.

you cry out as you feel him speed up. "jj! fuck, baby!" you whine as he speeds up. your core throbs as you look down at him and see a shit eating grin on his face.

at the sensation, you involuntarily close your legs around his hands. we can’t have that, now can we? he tsks before pulling out of you completely, spreading your legs and pinning them to the bed. he pulls off of your legs and sends a sharp slap against your sensitive clit, causing you to scream.

“don’t hide from me, baby. you know better than that.” he says sternly before sliding down the bed and pressing his hot tongue against your pussy. the sensation of his tongue, spit, and your throbbing, aching clit colliding causes you to arch your back and send your hand down to grip his long, blonde hair.

the taste of your arousal and the feel of your hands in his hair causes him to moan, sending millions of little vibrations to your pussy. you shriek at the feeling and begin rocking and grinding your hips against his tongue, taking what you want.

you swear you can feel him smile against you as his right hand comes up to rub on your inner thigh before pressing a sharp, mean slap to it. you yell and your legs twitch at the pain, he then brings his hand back to softly rub over the red mark now forming on your thigh, soothing the pain.

he takes his fingers back down to your pussy to press into your entrance, causing you to let out a pornographic moan as you feel the familiar intrusion. he begins moving his tongue faster against you, licking, sucking, and nipping at your clit as his fingers fuck you at a ruthless pace.

“fuck, jj! im close, baby.. m’so close..” you whine as your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing him to groan against your pussy. he smirks against your pussy as he keeps the same fast, orgasmic pace. the pace that he knows you love, the pace that causes you to clench around his fingers and moan louder than ever.

he mumbles some words into your pussy that cause you to tremble and whimper at the vibrations. “c’mon, pretty mama. give it to me.” he coos as his hips begin rutting into the mattress, trying to find his own relief.

“i’m cumming, jj~!” you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your legs shake. he pulls away from you completely, letting you come down on your own. and thank god he does, or else he would’ve missed the absolute fucking show you’re putting on for him right now.

he watches you moan, writhe, and squirm against the mattress as clear liquid spurts from your pussy. he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes along with a smirk before speaking up,

“look at you, baby!” he teases as he sees the embarrassment on your face.

you lay there, spent, and sweaty. he looks at your form on the bed before slowly undoing his belt. you hear this and groan sleepily as you look at him and start to protest, but he stops you.

“shh, baby. let me do all the work. let me take care of you.” he says softly as he takes his shirt off, his body completely bare as he looks at you with a soft look, silently asking for permission.

once he sees you nod softly, he moves next to you, putting you in a spooning position as he holds your leg up, providing enough space to slip his fat cock in between your folds.

you moan as you feel his cock run between your folds, teasing you. you gasp out as you let out a breathy plea. “please, jj..”

he kisses the back of your neck before slipping his cock into you slowly, whimpering in your ear as he feels your wet, warm, and soft pussy clench around him. he stills his hips giving you a minute to adjust. but once you give him that signal that he can move, he’s not stopping. he slowly pulls himself from you before snapping his hips into yours, causing you to scream.

he moans as he speeds his hips, the sound of skin slapping against itself fills the room, along with both of you guys’ moans and whimpers. he brings his hand to wrap around your front, rubbing your clit in circles that are perfectly timed with his thrusts.

“you’re so fucking perfect, you know that, baby?” he praises in your ear as his hips slam into yours. you can’t answer due to your brain completely shutting down because jjs just fucking you so good you just go cock dumb :(. slobber dribbles down your chin as you begin incoherently babbling. (gross!)

“oh, my poor girl, huh?” he purrs as he feels your pussy clench around him, signaling that you were close. he kisses your shoulder before turning you on your tummy, his knees resting beside your legs as he pushes your head into the pillow.

“can’t even speak because this cock is so good, huh?” he chuckles darkly as his other hand comes to grip your hips, almost leaving bruises.

you manage to let out a strangled “m-mhm..!” as his long, thick cock slides in and out of you. you feel his hand slap your ass as his other hand that was pressed on your head, comes to press onto your back, forcing your chest into the bed.

“i- jj..! so good…” you mumble as you manage to turn your head to look at him. he coos as he looks at you.

“i know, baby.. i know.” he coos before starting again, “but you can take it, yeah?” he groans as his thrusts get sloppier and he notices your moans getting louder, letting him know you were close.

“cum on my cock, baby.” he moans as he brings both hands to grip your hips, thrusting faster into you as you feel his heavy balls hitting your clit.

you moan loudly into the pillow as your pussy spasms around his cock. he moans when he sees the white ring around the base of his cock as he thrusts into you.

“i’m gonna cum, baby..” he says before letting his cum fill you, his moans shaky and his hips stuttering inside of you, causing you to whimper.

he pulls out of you and flip you to your back, forcing you to look at him. “you did so good, baby.. m’so proud of you.” he says as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before laying his head on your chest.

“i love you.”

sorry this would’ve been better if i didn’t have to rewrite it THREE TIMES. FUCK U TUMBLR GRRR.

tags: @maybanksprincess (wrote a special part in here for u mama 😼)

#jj maybank #obx season 4 #outer banks #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #rudypankow #rudy pankow #jj obx #obx x reader #smut

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mytherapyisreading14 · 6 months ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Spencer gets jealous when you work together with a police officer on your current case.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Angst and Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, making out in public, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!spencer (kinda)

Word Count: 6,5k

Author’s Note: I spent the whole week writing this one even though I should be studying for my final exam next week (not stressed enough to study yet oops) and don’t really like how it turned out even though I don’t know why. I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m just gonna leave it like that.

Spencer sits at his desk, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on the situation happening in front of him. It looks like a normal day at the office — the sounds of keys being typed, phones ringing, and the hum of the coffee machine. But at that moment, Spencer is oblivious to all of it. His gaze is fixed on the table next to the window, and he can’t take his eyes off the scene.

A police officer, a young, good-looking man named James, is having an animated conversation with you — his colleague, friend, and the woman he’s been in love with for years. The conversation seems relaxed and full of laughter, as if you two are sharing funny stories from your personal lives. You laugh again and again, a gleam in your eyes that he knows all too well.

But that’s not all. James reaches for the documents he wants to hand you, and as he does, his hand touches yours for a moment. The touch is fleeting, almost accidental, but Spencer feels an uncomfortable sensation spreading through him — jealousy. “She’s laughing... he’s making her laugh,” Spencer mutters grimly to himself, still staring at you.

"What's wrong?" he suddenly hears Luke’s voice, who sits down at his desk with a smile. Luke has been watching Spencer for a while without him noticing. Spencer tries to concentrate, wiping his hand over his mouth as if that would drive away the thoughts. But it doesn’t help.

"Nothing," he grumbles, not moving. “Oh yeah?" Luke asks, grinning crookedly. "You know, you look like you're about to explode with anger at any moment. Can't you see you're driving yourself crazy?" Spencer was about to get upset, but he decides to stay calm.

“I... I'm just concentrating on my work," Spencer mumbles, his gaze constantly drifting toward you. Luke grins, knowing exactly what’s going on. "If you really want her, you'll have to do more than just watch." Spencer blinks. "What?" he asks. “You have to show everyone that she's no longer available. Put a ring on her finger, and the officer won’t come near her anytime soon," he says to tease him.

Spencer feels his throat go dry. Ring? That is the point where he perks up. He is about to say something else when suddenly a new laugh from you reaches him. James just made a joke — and you are laughing again. Spencer can no longer just watch. Hearing you laugh at something he said feels like a punch to his stomach.

“That's enough!" he growls, standing up abruptly, anger boiling up inside him. Luke raises an eyebrow and watches him. "Are you all right, man?" Spencer walks over to you without further ado. You are sitting at the desk, James just left to get more files, and your eyes are fixed on the stack in front of you. Spencer steps in front of you with firm steps.

“Do you have a minute?" he asks, his voice much calmer than he feels, while he tries not to make the words sound too harsh. He tries not to let jealousy flash in his eyes. You look up and smile at him, completely unaware of what is going on inside him. "Sure, Spencer. What's up?" you ask. “We need to talk." The quiet jealousy inside him is like a cold, steady pressure.

It isn’t just the flirting between you and James. It’s the way he looks at you, the way you react to him — having a conversation with the only woman he really wants. Spencer takes a deep breath and keeps his gaze on yours. “In private,” he adds when you make no sign of standing up. You look at him, confused. “Uhm… okay,” you say, and follow him.

Spencer and you are now standing behind the closed door of the small office. The room suddenly seems much smaller than it usually does. The air is heavy, almost uncomfortable, and Spencer has already turned around, his gaze returning to you. “So, how far along are you with the files?" Spencer asks harshly, phrasing the question less out of interest and more like a challenge. The words come quickly, almost too quickly.

“We're halfway through," you answer calmly, as if you don’t even notice the tension. “Halfway through?" Spencer’s eyebrows furrow, the lines on his face stiffening. "Damn, we should be much further along! We barely have any time left, and you're spending all your time with him instead of focusing on work!" You blink in surprise. "What are you talking about? James? We're well organized and work together. What's going on now?" you ask, confused.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer continues, now visibly upset. “The guy isn’t even interested in working on the documents. He’s just using the whole thing to flirt with you. It’s all just a game for him. And you’re falling for it!” He clenches his hands into fists. “He’s only doing this because he wants to get you into his bed, and he has no idea about the work we’re supposed to be doing here!” Spencer shouts.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. A spark of anger shoots up inside you, and you take a step closer to him. “That’s not true, Spencer,” your tone is sharp now, the words harsh and disregarding the tension between you. “We just get along well, okay? That’s all!” you say.

“Oh, really?” Spencer snorts derisively and shakes his head. “You know exactly what he wants. And it has nothing to do with work, you can be sure of that. He talks to you, flirts with you, and you let it all go like nothing’s happening!” He spits out each word as if he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

You feel your heart rate increase. You clench your fists now too. "You have no idea, Spencer!" you hiss. Your anger continues to grow the more you hear his words echoing in your head. "You have no idea what's really going on here, and most importantly, it’s none of your business, okay? You are not my boyfriend." You secretly hope that he will object and tell you that this is what he wants, but he just keeps looking at you.

The air between you is electric, so thick and charged that it almost feels like it could explode. Spencer stares at you, his face tense, but you can see a mixture of anger and... disappointment in his eyes. But when you said that it was none of his business, it seemed as if something inside him was breaking. You can see it in his eyes.

"I understand..." he says with a bitter smile, but it sounds more like disappointment than an answer. You can’t stay in that place any longer. You want to get out of that room, away from him, from this tense situation, from his accusations. You just leave him standing there, without another word. You open the door and quickly leave the room, heading back to the office, where the rest of the team is still going about their daily lives.

Spencer sits at his desk, his eyes fixed on the maps in front of him, but his thoughts are everywhere — except at work. His gaze keeps drifting to the desk where you are sitting with James. You’re speaking to each other; he says something, and you laugh. Again. Spencer can’t stand it. The thought that this guy is getting closer and closer to you burns inside him like fire.

The moment you left the small office is burned into his memory. Your words, his reaction — it had all been a blow to him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He felt hurt, disappointed, and even though he buried it deep inside, he knows that something inside him had broken.

At that moment, Luke appears again. He leans casually against the table, watching Spencer for a while before breaking the silence. "You look like you’ve just been through some personal drama," he says with a crooked grin that lightens the atmosphere but doesn’t obscure the seriousness of Spencer's face. "What happened, man? What’s wrong with you? Is it because of these two?" he asks and points over to you and James.

Spencer sighs and wipes his hand across his face before slowly turning back. "Nothing. It’s nothing." But even he knows he can’t hide behind that answer. “Come on," Luke urges, sitting down on the edge of the desk and leaning back. "I saw that. You’re not just annoyed. You look like you’ve just been through an argument. What happened?"

Spencer slowly turns Luke and shakes his head. "It’s... nothing important." He feels like admitting it would only weaken him further, so he continues in a short, clipped tone, "She’s just... she doesn’t understand me. I told her not to talk to the guy. And she... she doesn’t want to listen. So what?” Luke looks at him in silence for a moment. Then he snorts softly.

“You know, Spencer," he begins in a serious tone, "you both just have to stop ignoring what’s obvious." Spencer stares at him, unsure of what to say next. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer says. “Oh, come on," Luke says, looking straight at him. "You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. You two are just ignoring it like a couple of idiots."

Spencer blinks, his eyes widening for a moment as if the thought of Luke saying that caught him completely off guard. "What?" he blurts out. "What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’m not in love with her. I’m just trying protect her from getting hurt by that idiot.”

Luke leans in closer. "You look at her like she could change your life, and you roll your eyes every time James or another man is around, like it’s a personal attack on your precinct. And her? She’s just as torn, but she won’t admit it." Luke takes a moment before adding, "You two act like you're untouchable, like it’s just a working relationship, but that’s not true. You want each other. So stop lying to each other’s eyes."

Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something, but then nothing comes to mind. What should he say? It’s the truth. But admitting that feels like losing all control. He feels weak and hurt, and the thought that Luke could see through it so easily doesn’t make it any better.

"I..." Spencer begins, but stops before he can reveal anything else. Instead, he turns back to his map and stares at the documents in front of him. He can’t look at Luke. "Just let it go," he says finally, his tone harsh. "I have to keep working; there’s still a lot to do." Luke sighs and shakes his head as he steps down from Spencer's desk. "You’re a stubborn man sometimes, you know that?" he says with a grin that shows no joy. "But if you keep getting in your own way, it’s no wonder you're wearing yourself out so much."

Spencer hears Luke walking away. But even now, Spencer can’t free himself from the thoughts that torment him. All this time, he believed he could control his feelings for you. But now that Luke brought it up so directly, he became painfully aware that he had become embroiled in something far more complicated than he had ever wanted to admit.

He looks back over to your desk, where you and James are still talking, but this time in a more relaxed manner. Spencer can almost feel the look James is giving you — and it’s driving him crazy. He snorts and tries to focus back on his work, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. You are in his head, over and over, always have been. And the more he tries to ignore it, the stronger the feeling becomes. He can’t escape it.

At the end of the day, Spencer and you avoid each other. Spencer sinks back into his work, conversations with you are kept to a minimum, and at some point, you and James disappear together into a meeting that Spencer doesn’t even try to follow. It’s as if they are the only two sharing the room, while Spencer is lost in the loneliness in his head.

When all the work is finally done, the team decides to go to a bar to end the evening in a relaxed manner. Luke is now trying to persuade him to come along. "A little relaxation, a beer – that's good for everyone," he says. “Come on," Luke says. "You've been thinking about her and your stupid fight all day. A little fresh air, a beer, and a few relaxed conversations – that will do you good. And besides... it's always better to hang out with us than to sit around alone, right?" he asks.

"I don't know, man," Spencer grumbles as he stares at his book. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to people today." Luke shakes his head. "You say that every time. Come on. I'll get you a beer, and then we'll talk about something else. Otherwise, you'll go crazy!" Spencer sighs and looks at Luke.

"Will she be there too?" he asks, and Luke nods. Spencer knows you’ll still be mad at him, but he's a little relieved because it means that if you’re at the bar, at least you won't be spending the evening alone with James.

And even though Spencer doesn’t really want to be around, it’s way better than sitting in his room, thinking about you. So he gives in. "Okay, okay, I'll come with you. But if it gets too much for me, I'll leave," he says. “All right," Luke replies, immediately setting off and clapping his hands happily.

When they enter the bar, the mood is relaxed, and the music in the background isn’t too loud. It is a nice place – exactly what Spencer needs to clear his head. The stress of the day is suddenly far away, and he feels a little bit better. But when he looks around the room, he pauses for a moment.

At a table at the back of the bar, there are all the people from the police team they are working with on the current case. Spencer stops abruptly when he spots them. And to his horror, he notices that James– the guy who had been getting on his nerves all day – is there too.

But that isn’t the worst part. What upsets Spencer most is the sight of you. You are sitting right next to James again. He has a charming expression on his face as he explains something to you, and everything about his body language screams, "I'm interested in you." Spencer feels the wave of jealousy and frustration building up inside him again. "What the hell...?" he mutters quietly as he turns to look at Luke. "What are they doing here?"

Luke, who is heading towards the bar, looks around in confusion, then at Spencer. "What?" he asks. “All the people from the police team... and James. Why the hell are they here?" Spencer snorts as he tries to stay calm, but anger is seething inside him. Luke blinks and then looks around at the faces as well. "Uh..." he finally says, scratching his head.

“I didn't know they were invited too. I thought this was just for us. Really...?" He is visibly surprised. "That's weird. Well, whatever. We're here, they're here – it's not the end of the world, is it?" Luke says. “At least not for you," Spencer says and rolls his eyes. “I didn't know, man," Luke says apologetically. "If you want, we can leave. But I thought you wanted to distract yourself a little. Come on, it'll be fine."

Spencer really just wants to get out, but he knows he can’t just disappear without being noticed. The whole group already saw them, and it would be even weirder to just turn around and leave. So he takes a deep breath to stay calm. “I'm staying," Spencer finally says, even though the thought of just standing there almost drives him mad. "But if that guy talks to her like that again, then..."

"You're exaggerating," Luke says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to drink first, okay? That will make it easier to bear." Spencer nods, even though he feels the restlessness inside him. “I urgently need something to drink.” Luke grabs two beers for them, while Spencer just stands there, trying hard not to look in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting.

But every time his gaze happens to wander there, he feels his muscles tense. James is still talking to you, and this time he seems to be paying particular attention to you. Spencer can practically feel Jame’s gaze – the gaze of a man who wants more. “Man, you really have to relax. Running around like a caged tiger all the time isn't going to help you,” Luke says.

“The problem is, I don’t want to see him making out with her,” Spencer admits. “I mean, what the hell? We're working on the same case, and he..." He exhales sharply. "That guy is the last person I want to get along with."

Luke shakes his head, but his grin slowly disappears. "Okay, I understand. But if you really want to prevent him from getting involved with her, you have to pull yourself together, otherwise everything will just revolve around him. Just relax. Drink something, talk to the others. And if you really want to change something, you have to do something instead of just staring."

Spencer nods, but the restlessness inside him remains. While Luke puts the beer in front of him, Spencer continues to stare in the direction of the table where you and James are sitting, while an unpleasant feeling does not leave him alone. When Luke goes over to sit down at table next to yours where Rossi, Matt and Tara are sitting, he follows him lost in his thoughts.

Your POV

The evening in the bar is slowly dragging on, and you try to relax as much as possible. But despite the conversations and the more relaxed mood, there is this one constant feeling that you can't shake off: Spencer's gaze. You feel it all the time – not directly, but still clearly. Again and again, you notice how his eyes fix on you from a distance, every time you laugh or get into a conversation. And you know it isn’t a coincidence.

The jealousy in him is almost tangible, but you can also see his insecurity. It’s as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. He keeps clenching his fists, as if he can’t control the situation. And while you are angry at him – at the way he behaves, at the way he’s closing himself off from his feelings – you also feel some pity for him.

You are both caught in this kind of self-denial. You think that he might feel as much for you as you feel for him, but he just never really dared to admit it. He had always been a little distant at times – almost as if he didn’t want to get too close to you. Perhaps out of fear of admitting to himself that he felt more for you. And you? You aren’t much better. You never address your feelings for him directly, for fear that he wouldn't return them, or worse, would just ignore them.

When James had shown interest in you, it had been a painful but somehow useful moment. The sudden attention he’s giving you seems to be working – at least in theory. Penelope and Emily advised you to use the opportunity to make Spencer jealous. It’s a risky gamble, but you know it might be the only way to get Spencer to come out of his shell. You hesitated at first, but over time you realized that you had to at least try.

James is funny, has a quick quip on his lips, and manages to make you laugh. And while you get along well with him, you feel Spencer’s gaze only getting more intense from one moment to the next. It’s almost like an invisible competition – James is flirting with you, and Spencer is watching from afar without lifting a finger. Why is he doing that? Why can’t he just walk up to you and show you what he really feels?

Every time you notice Jame’s gaze on you, you also feel Spencer withdrawing more and more into himself, his eyes lowering to the table and occasionally playing with his hands. He seems to be struggling to pull himself together, but you know he’s seething inside. And you... you are angry at him, yes. Angry that he never made the first move, angry that he doesn’t dare to show you how he feels about you.

But at the same time, there’s also a little bit of pity, because you know how vulnerable he really is. He doesn’t want to admit that he feels the same way, and it’s easier for him to watch you from afar rather than face the fear that his feelings for you bring with them.

And then... the moment when James turns back to you and puts his hand on your arm as he whispers something in your ear – a joke, a charming compliment that you can barely hear - you see Spencer’s look out of the corner of your eye. He stares at you, his jaw clenched, and you can see the anger and jealousy building up inside him.

For a moment, you feel... powerful. And guilty at the same time. Is that really the right way? Is there really any point in provoking him like that? “You can calm down,” Penelope whispers to you as she sits down next to you. “He’s been looking at you like that all evening, and we all know he’ll have to make the first move at some point. He won’t be able to ignore it forever.”

You take a deep breath and nod, even though you are torn inside. What if it just doesn’t work? What if he never dares? And what if he just wants to keep you in the friend zone without ever crossing the line? You look over to Spencer again – his eyes are still on you, but this time there is something different in his gaze. Doubt? Hurt?

“He just needs to see that you’re no longer available,” Emily says, as she advised you. “And then he’ll react. It’s just a matter of time.” James asks for another drink and turns back to you with a charming smile. Spencer’s gaze continues to burn into your back. But now that you’ve dared to use the situation to your advantage, you know: It’s a risky game, but perhaps the only thing you can do to bring the truth to light. You didn’t even know he would get this jealous.

But you can’t bring yourself to spend the whole evening here and continue to be stuck in this tension. It’s too much. “I’m going to the bathroom for a minute,” you say with a slight smile that is more polite than genuine joy. You turn to James, who is about to lean toward you again. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and gives you a meaningful smile. “Sure, take your time. I’ll wait for you here.” You stand up, run your fingers through your hair, and walk toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more to scan the room behind you. Your eyes immediately find the one spot that turns your stomach: Spencer.

He is still sitting in his seat, and you feel the atmosphere between you thickening. He has seen you. And you cannot miss his eyes – they are burning in your direction, as if they are blocking out everything else. It’s that look that you’ve felt from him too many times – a look that doesn’t let you go, a look that is full of anger and uncertainty at the same time. And yet, there is something else.

You pause for a moment when you notice that he’s watching you intensely. A brief hesitation, then you give him a look – almost like a small awakening between the two of you. It’s the moment when everything around you seems to go quiet. A moment that only exists between you and him.

Luke, who had been following the whole scene with a watchful eye, turned to Spencer when he noticed you moving away from your seat. “It’s now or never, Spencer,” he says, his tone serious. “If you really want her, now’s your chance. You have to do something. Otherwise, she’ll go back to him.”

Spencer glanced nervously in your direction as he saw you heading to the bathroom. For a moment, he just stared, then he abruptly stood up, dropped his beer back on the table, and walked in the direction you had disappeared.

You are washing your hands when the door opens behind you and Spencer appears. He walks towards you, his gaze hard and determined, but also somehow… vulnerable. The determination in his eyes reveals that he hasn’t come here without a conversation.

"Spencer?" you ask, and he takes a deep breath. Then he says in a tone so hard and yet so quiet that you can practically feel the inner conflict within him: "I don't want you to go back to him." You look at him, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events. Your eyes narrow slightly as you consider the words. "What?"

Spencer seems to force himself to repeat it again as he takes a step closer. "I don't want you to go back to him," he repeats, and this time it sounds final.

"Why?" you ask challengingly. Now that he said it like that, he sounds even more jealous than he did this morning in the office.

"Because I want to be the one," he finally says. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I want to be the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who touches you, who tells you... things you want to hear. Not him. Me." For a moment, there is silence between the two of you. The words he had just said hang in the air.

You look at him—really, for the first time in a while, you see him clearly. Without the wall of insecurity and reserved distance that he had always built around himself. Without the anger that he had shown you again and again since he came back from prison.

"Why didn't you say that earlier? I could never be sure. I tried to talk to you but most of the time you were so distant," you finally say. “Because I... because I didn't know how," Spencer says. "I didn't know what you really felt. And... I didn't want to lose you. After everything that had happened with Maeve, then my time in prison... I was just afraid that you would be taken away from me too."

You look deep into his eyes. He loves you. For a long time. But he never admitted it to himself. He let himself be too guided by the fear of having lost too much if he had said it. And you? You hesitated just as long. But this moment... this moment is the turning point. Now you know.

"I don't want to lose you either, Spencer," you say quietly. For a moment, he just stands there and looks at you, but then he takes a step closer, and suddenly the distance between you is gone. Without another word, he pulls you towards him. His lips find yours, and in that kiss is everything you've ever wanted.

You run your hands through his hair, something you always wanted to do, and press yourself closer against him. He kisses down your neck, grazing a spot with his teeth before he bits down, leaving a hickey. Then leans closer to your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. In that moment, when the two of you finally give in to your desires, something snaps.

“You were driving me crazy today, angel. I had to hold myself together all day while he was busy flirting with you. But you’re mine.” He goes back to kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue and biting down on your lip. You press even closer against him. “Touch me, Spence, please,” you whisper, but he pulls back and chuckles. “Now you want me to touch you? After you spend the whole day hanging out with this idiot?” he says, not giving you what you want right away after what happened today.

“Yes, please. I only want you,” you say, roaming your hands over his body but he turns you around and your back presses against the wall. “Woah, Spence,” you squeak but he shuts you up by pressing another kiss to your lips. His hands begin to slowly trail underneath your top and squeeze your breasts through your bra. “We’re leaving. Now. I waited way too long for this. I’m not going to fuck you in a bathroom, at least not now,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you clench your thighs together in excitement.

He leans down to place one last kiss on your mouth before he takes your hand and pulls you out of the bathroom after him. He doesn’t even bother to tell the others you are leaving now, the only thought in his mind being you. To your advantage, the hotel is almost directly across from the bar. It's only about a 10 minute walk, but this time it feels even shorter as Spencer takes long, quick steps to get there as quickly as possible.

When you stand in front of the door of his room Spencer let’s go of your hand to reach for the keys in his bag. As soon as unlocks the door he pushes you in and closes the door before pressing you against the next wall. You can feel how hard he already is. His mouth is back on your neck in instant, kissing the spot where he left the hickey.

His hands trail back under your top again, but this time he immediately unclasps your bra. He squeezes one of your nipples before tugging at your top to show you that he wants it off. You help him and begin to open the buttons of his shirt too before it joins your top on the floor. While kissing you Spencer guides you to the bed and when your knees hit the bed frame you drop with your back on the bed.

Spencer takes the opportunity to take off your jeans and underwear in one motion, taking a step back to admire you from afar. “You’re so beautiful. And all mine,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. He comes closer and leans down, placing kisses all over your body and you keep running your fingers through his hair. It’s even softer than you thought. When he leaves another hickey you tug at his hair, earning a groan from him.

To hear this sound coming from him turns you on more than you could’ve imagined and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. Spencer’s head is now going down, in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs before running a finger through your folds. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, slipping a finger inside you. “Only for you, Spence,” you moan, lifting your hips to show him you want more.

But he stops and pulls away from you. “No, you’re not allowed to move,” he says with a smirk on his face. “Why not?” you ask, eagerly waiting for him to continue his actions. “Because I said so,” he simply says and then you understand. He wants to make you wait and even more desperate for him. It’s some kind of power play, he wants to show you that he’s the one who is in charge.

“Listen to me and I’ll give you what you want,” he says while his finger slowly trails circles on your clit. “Do you understand?” he asks, locking eyes with you. “Yes, I understand,” you say. All you want is for him to keep touching you, it’s addictive. “Good girl,” he says before slipping his fingers back inside you. You shiver and he immediately notices the affect the words have on you.

“Interesting. You like being called a good girl, am I right?” he asks, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. “Ye - yes,” you whisper. “I can’t hear you,” he says while you try to hold yourself back to not arch into his touch like he told you to. “Yes, I - I like it,” you say. He seems satisfied with your answer and adds another finger. You feel the pleasure shoot right through you and you’re afraid you’re are no longer able to control your body.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whimper but he stops again. He‘s definitely driving you crazy. “No. I want you to come on my tongue,” Spencer says and leans down, immediately licking a stripe up your pussy before sucking on your clit. “Oh…” you exhale at the warm feeling of his tongue. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says. You feel him moaning against you and a shiver runs down your spine when he swirls his tongue around your clit.

His hands push into your thighs, making sure to keep them apart to keep on eating you out. Then he adds a finger and your entire body is on edge. You start to lose yourself in the pleasure and when you look down and see his head buried between your thighs, diving restlessly into you, you start to lose yourself.

“Spence, I - can I -“ you are no longer able to form a sentence, far too lost in the pleasure already. You’re glad he decides against teasing you for it this time. “Come on my tongue, angel,” he says and sucks on your clit to set you over the edge. Your orgasms crashes over you and you keep moaning his name when you come. Spencer chuckles and comes up to kiss you, giving you a moment to recover. You can taste yourself on his lips and push your tongue in his mouth.

“Need you now, Spence. Please,” you whisper in his ear. “What do you need, angel? You have to tell me,” he says. “You Spence - I need you inside me.” His hands reach for his belt and he unclasps it before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. He pulls is pants and boxers down and your gaze wanders down his body and your eyes widen when you see his cock. He is bigger than expected, his tip already glistening with pre-cum.

He begins to stoke his cock lazily, enjoying the look you give him. “I don’t have a condom,” he says when he leans down to you. “I’m on birth control,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to give him a kiss. You can feel how he lines your cock up your entrance, slowly sliding through your folds and over your clit to tease you.

“Spence, I need you inside me now,” you say and lift your hips again but he gives you a disappointed look. “I thought I told you not to move?” he says, pressing you back down with one of his hands. “I - I forgot. And it’s not fair when you drive me crazy the whole time,” you say and he chuckles. “Look at you, so desperate for my cock. Well, if you don’t want me to drive you crazy then I’m going to fuck you stupid, is that what you want?” he asks. “Yes Spence, please, fuck me,” you breath out and he finally pushes inside you.

“Fuck,” he sighed when he feels you clench around him. “I can get used to this.” You never felt so full before. He starts to thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot. You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even deeper inside of you. “Harder,” you beg him and his thrusts become more intense as he fucks you faster and deeper. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm, just for me. Tell me, who does this pussy belongs to?” he says and grabs your hips harder, his fingers digging into the skin, leaving bruises there.

Your mind is going blank at the pleasure and you’re not able to answer him. But then one of his hands leaves your hips and grabs your hair, pulling your head back. You moan and open your eyes to see Spencer looking down at you. “I asked you a question. Answer me,” he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. “You - belongs to you, Spence,” you moan and grab his back to hold your shaking body steady. You’re close now, Spencer can feel it too.

“Yes, all mine. I’m the one who gets to fuck you,” he says and he thrusts so deep inside you that you can’t help but arch your back. Spencer can feel that you’re close and he starts to circle your clit with his thumb again. “I want you to come for me, now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasms hits you and you moan his name when you come, feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he finishes too.

He pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed. He places a gentle kiss on your head. “Are you okay?” he asks. You nod, still exhausted and not able to form any words. He pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your hair. “I’m glad you’re all mine now,” he says and you turn your head to look into his eyes. “My heart always belonged to you, Spence. And that will never change,” you say, cuddling closer to him. “I love you so much,” he says and strokes your cheek gently.

You lean forward to kiss him. “I love you too, especially when you get jealous,” you say with a smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes jokingly and he pokes your ribs, causing you to giggle. “Hey, stop that!” you say, trying to hold down his hands, effortlessly. You’re underneath him in a heartbeat and he starts to kiss down your neck again. “I’m far from done with you tonight, angel.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #post prison reid #spencer reid fluff

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nympheagain · 2 months ago

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Perv!Mark Pt.2

Summary: Perv!Mark sees you with your zipper open and has a whole ordeal

Lol got this idea when I realized my pants zipper was open all day 😔😔

Perv!Mark who’s never seen a vagina, not IRL at least. So he’s almost foaming at the mouth when he can see your lacy panties through your open zipper as you sit with your legs spread.

You were probably tired, poor you, so tired you couldn’t even wear your clothes properly! Perv!Mark would never let you get that exhausted. He’d take care of you, real good.

Perv!Mark who was so glad that you both took the subway home. You got off a few stops after him, but he always pretended to get off after you, just to watch you longer, it wasn’t a problem anyway, since he could just fly home.

Perv!Mark who can see the colour of your cunt from the mesh fabric of your panties, who’s already letting his imagination run wild, thinking about how easy it would be for him to just rip them off you.

He’d keep them as a souvenir of course, pocket them when you weren’t looking and sniff them deep as he tugged his hard leaking cock.

Perv!Mark who was so pathetic, so desperate for you that he doesn’t even need to imagine much more other than the sliver of your panties peeking out from your trousers, you wouldn’t even have to take them off, he’s thinking, maybe he could just slip his dick right through?

Then he’s imagining fucking you right there on the subway, just bent over in one of the carriages, fully clothed as he fucked you senseless. It wouldn’t be very hygienic, he knows, but he’d hold you by the throat and keep you close to him, keep you nice and snug and safe.

As for everyone else, well, he supposed they could just watch.

Perv!Mark who’s so engrossed in his fantasy that he almost doesn’t realise when you’re getting off at your stop, smiling sweetly at him and whispering a “Bye, Mark.” Like you knew the effect you had on him.

Perv!Mark who’s looking down at the large tent he’s sporting in his pants, realising, oops, you just might.

#nympheagain #invincible x you #invincible smut #invincible x reader #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x you #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

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I love your work, and I’ve been creeping on your master list and it’s so good 😭❤️❤️❤️… pls do one with Azriel and AFAB reader who finds out first that they’re true mates but says nothing at all, too scared that he’ll reject her cause he’s in love with Elain and she witnesses the whole necklace gifting/almost kiss between them and runs away, tries to avoid both of them for days and gets sick or injured or something and that’s when Az realizes it too and smut ensues 🫶😭❤️

Since You Have A Lover

pairing : azriel x afab!reader

warnings: angst babe, torture too (oops👀🤣), not proofread, swearing, probs typos, mild smut at the end, testing out the longer fics and then we’re gonna figure out if longer or shorter is better 🫣

thank you for the request bean! i switched it up a little to add some much needed angst but i’m so happy you’ve been enjoying 💗💗

oh and…educate a girl. wtf is afab?👀 respectfully ofc

—

Deep breaths and a lowered gaze is how you make it through family dinners as your stomach lurches uncomfortably.

The feeling never got easier, even after months of enduring the debilitating emotions that ensued from watching your mate love another.

It’s instinctual to be jealous—to compare yourself to Elain when Azriel refused to tear his eyes away. He was supposed to be your equal and yet the longer dinner went on with overhearing their hushed conversation and not-so-sneaky touches under the table; you felt anything but suitable in comparison.

Drowning those thoughts is surprisingly easy, a plethora of wine bottles are scattered about the table and not a single person bats an eye when you snatch one up for yourself. They’re too caught up in each other to realize you’ve slipped away; abandoning the suffocating love that permeated from every direction besides your own.

Fresh air helps a little, the stolen bottle of wine aiding in keeping you warm from the unforgiving nighttime chill. Eventually the cool bite doesn’t send shivers down your spine and you barely even flinch when bare skin meets cold stone, your gaze dipping down to lively town below.

Time moves too quickly as the observer, seconds bleeding into minutes until hours have passed and the bottle has nothing left to offer. There’s a brief moment where your foggy brain contemplates the effort it would take to retrieve another when your solitude is broken.

Two bodies burst through the balcony doors on the furthest side, mostly concealed by trees and flowers but you’d recognize those wings anywhere. A hand smacks over your mouth to conceal any sound, body freezing in place as you witness Azriel press Elain into the wall, his hands cradling the sides of her face lovingly.

A part of you shatters when you catch that sparkle in his eye, the eagerness in his movement to have her closer until her cheeks go flush and thick lashes flutter closed in preparation for the sweet kiss Azriel is sure to grant her.

You’re unable to stomach another moment and neither of them even flinch when you shuffle from your spot and make a bee-line for the exit. Tears cloud your vision, shoulders shaking and steps unsteady as you all but run through the halls, darting up the stairs and colliding right into another body. “Oh,” The startled sound is all but whimpered out of you and red eyes and splotchy cheeks are the first thing Nesta sees as you look up. “Gods, I’m sorry.” You scramble to your feet, retrieving the book she’d dropped in the collision. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching here I was going.”

“That’s not like you.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of your mouth, unbound hair in unruly strands down your shoulders. “I’m not quite myself at the moment.”

Nesta hums in response, slender arms crossing over her chest and the fabrics of her nightgown shifts with the motion. Her gaze is scrutinizing, picking apart the truth from the lies and you’re infinitely grateful that she doesn’t call you out on your state of disarray. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

“No.” You whisper, hastily wiping your cheeks and attempting to smooth down stray hairs and wrinkled silks. “No, I think I’m going to go for a walk instead. I could use the fresh air.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

Nesta's neck cranes, slowly turning on the balls of her feet as you swiftly slip past her and make way for your chambers. Perhaps, it's the defeated slump of your shoulders that catches Lady Death's attention; that emptiness in your eyes that couldn't even be filled by the overflowing tears that stained your cheeks.

She considers waking Cassian--he always was better equipped to handle the emotions of others but you're already gone, disappearing behind the door without even saying goodnight. Something about the interaction forces her to linger, smutty book long forgotten as she waits to see you creep out that same room ten minutes later.

You're dressed to better accommodate the weather now. Thick leathers insulating body heat while subconsciously providing much needed compression--the tight fabric mimics comfort in its attempt to hold together the broken bits of you shoved inside.

Nesta's lips part, a million possible words resting at the tip of her tongue but you're quick to intercept, tone numb and alarmingly empty. "Don't wait up."

Being alone was supposed to be relaxing.

Distracting, at the very least.

But, all you could feel was the cool prickle of awareness at the back of your neck the whole time you sat at the edge of the mountains that overlooked the Sidra. Each time you'd slow your breathing and attempt to regulate the unusual beat of your heart with the captivating view of Velaris at night. While most were inside, the homes that resided there were full of life; lights glowing golden through their windows, laughs ebbing through the woodwork and creating a sense of serenity that refuses to wash over you as well.

Eyes narrow, shoulders squaring and fingers twitch for the sharp daggers strapped to your thighs. The thick trees you’d come through seems far less attractive now, branches craning out like grabbing hands with gaps of murky darkness that resembled giant mouths waiting to swallow you up. “Nesta?”

The chuckle that breaks through the clearing is anything but feminine. “Not quite.”

It happens too fast--the hand that smacks over your mouth to mute the startled scream that rips free. You push against the solid wall of a body stationed behind you, attempting to sway his stability in order to break free but a sharp sting in your neck renders you still.

The burn that follows is instant and before you can stop it, the unforgiving darkness becomes all you know.

The palpable tension at breakfast is suffocating.

Azriel's seething brood casts angsty shadows along his strong build, creating a visible wall between himself and his High Lord after the stern conversation he was forced into the night before. It runs on repeat in the shadow singers mind, the order given to back off on his affections towards the middle Archeron sister.

It seems cruel. A sick form of punishment that Azriel can't quite wrap his mind around because who was really in charge of the tragectory of his life? Azriel ? Or his High Lord?

The mere thought has his teeth grinding in silent contempt, his gaze flickering around the table before landing on the bare spot directly across from him. His brows furrow, confusion briefly sweeping away the rage as he considers the time--your usual schedule and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. "Where is she?"

A brief pause, the casual conversation slowing to a halt until Azriel catches a glimpse of something on Nesta's face--a strain of guilt he'd seen a million times on a trillion different faces. "Left earlier this morning." Polished silverware scrapes at fine china, pushing aside food that her body refuses to indulge in. "Said she was going for a walk."

Discontentment settles into Azriel's bones--a feeling he struggles to understand and Nesta's answer only exasperates the unsteady sensation.

"In this weather?" Grey clouds are thick in the sky, shades of slate and granite completely masking the sun as relentless rains pour down from above. "When was this?"

"Around three."

Cassian swears lowly from beside his mate, a sturdy hand resting at her shoulders but the regret lacing his features speaks plenty about the decision to stay quiet for so long. It was too dangerous, especially after the last few meetings Rhys had with Kier in Hewn. Change took time and the Steward and his men were complaining about that change taking too long. Hateful words were thrown in the name of the people of Hewn City and how they had desires too; dreams of a better world for themselves and their children but the High Lord’s better judgement rose question to the other consequences that could arise from giving what they were asking for. "Ness that was nearly eight hours ago."

The screech of Azriel's chair draws attention, a sudden boost of fuel being injected in his veins. "Did she tell you where she was going exactly?"

Nesta’s tone turns into vitriol, a subconscious reaction to the guilt that gnawed at her bones for not seeking for you sooner after finding you in your state. The reminder of tears streaming down your face flashes behind her eyelids; the choppiness of your words through labored breathing. How desperately you’d attempted to wrangle it together just long enough to make it to your room and suddenly the eldest Archeron feels that familiar uselessness creep beneath her skin. “She didn’t leave me a map with a drawn out route—she just said she needed air.”

“While crying?” It wasn’t intentional, Rhysand seeing the flash of memory that Nesta had unknowingly projected; her mental walls caving for just a fraction of a minute before the iron doors had regained their formidable security. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Silverware clatters against the table, staining table linen in strawberry jam but no one seems to give a shit when the severity of the situation behinds to settle over the room. Nesta runs a hand against the material of her dress, smoothening out wrinkles and creases in order to avoid all of the eyes settling over her face. “I was just going to the library to read and we bumped into each other. She came from the balcony—I offered to walk her to her room but she just…” A sigh pulls free, jaw setting tightly. “I let her go.”

“Nesta.” Feyre’s slow shake of her head holds enough disappointment to have Nesta’s shoulders squaring on the defensive.

“I’m not some evil bitch, I waited up!” She seethes, the beginnings of those silver flames lapping at the steely grey of her eyes but the fight within isn’t truly directed towards Feyre or anyone else but herself. Because she’d felt the exact moment that you walked from the doors and winnowed away, that she’d made a grave mistake. Nesta’s shoulders sag, fingers bunching unforgivingly into the inky linen cloth until she felt the tips of her nails digging into the polished mahogany underneath. “I waited.”

Azriel’s already out of the room without a word.

He didn’t have a right to shame her because Azriel had a feeling he knew what sent you running.

His teeth grind together when thinking back to the night before when he and Elain had scuffled off onto the balcony at the witching hour; hoping their sins would be shielded by the dark cast of night. Too caught up in one another to consider another already occupying the space.

And, no matter how many times Azriel brushed his fingertips over the soft curve of Elain’s cheeks or vyed for a fleeting touch when passing in the hallways—the kiss he thought he wanted lacked the spark he was sure would flicker to life when lips grazed.

He’d pulled away so abruptly, brows furrowing in a stark line discontentment that was visible to anyone with eyes and then he heard the broken whimper of a gasp.

It’s been too easy to pass it off as Elain and far easier for him to forget about it altogether after Rhysand had found an embarrassed Elain rushing back to her room with flushed cheeks and an unsteady gait. He’d never heard his brother shout so loud, the veins in his neck protruding as he ordered Azriel to never even look her way again. That if a quick fuck in the dead of the night was what he desired then Azriel should wander along the cobblestone streets of Velaris and find himself a suitable pleasure house and pay for it.

The words act as fuel, Azriel’s senses working on overdrive; shadows scrying for information faster than ever before until they’d returned with something he could work with.

Dropped neatly in his palms were the cool steel of your twin blades that never left the secure holsters forever strapped to your thighs.

And they were soaked in your blood.

—

You recognized the suffocating dank smell that tended to fester when stuffed so far beneath the earth—the perfect dungeon.

One you’d been in countless times before, wearing that shadowy mask of indifference when masquerading as the soulless monster that became necessary to survive while in Hewn City. It took decades of assistance by Azriel’s side; an apprentice of sorts when the bounds of your affections had just begun testing its limits—wondering to see just how far you’d go just to be near him.

To get him to notice you. Your mate. Yours. Yours.

All of that seems so foolish now. Insignificant compared to the dire situation you’d found yourself entangled in.

Sharp twinges of pain throb up your neck, aches settling in from the uncomfortable position and it’s a strain when you shift in attempts to take in your surroundings. Fear lurches in your chest when your hands don’t move, restrained by chains that had you hung up like a prized hog after a fresh hunt.

Not good. Not good. Not good. So, not good.

“I always did love that look.” Immediately your spine goes ramrod straight, fingers clenching into fists over the cool bite of the chains as that voice washed over you like a bucket of water. Refreshing on your own terms and a horrible wake up call when it wasn’t. “When panic shifts into realization—truly a sight worth capturing. Especially when attached to such a delicate disposition.”

Delicate?

You’d never once used that word in ordinance to yourself.

Hearing it now, under such circumstances makes your heart lurch, it’s beat untamed against your ribcage and it takes every bit of strength left to smooth that look of utter calm across your features. “Come a little closer, let me show you how sweet I can get.”

The underlying threat is easily palpable and Kier is wise not to follow the bait; aware of the wounded animals ability to put up a considerable fight and he’s too coward to brawl fairly. “As tempting as that is, it won’t be me who plays with you tonight.” Your teeth bare into a snarl, pure promise rumbling from your chest and the sound encourages a chuckle from the male.

He’s not close enough to injure; to swing the brunt of your weight around for a well-timed kick that you knew would disable long enough to figure a way out of these damn restraints. But even with the distance between you, the resemblance between this male and Mor was striking. She’d inherited the shape of his lips, even if the words she spoke were far sweeter than the shit spewed from her predecessor. More similarities are spotted during your scrutinizing evaluation of him; the line of his nose, the shade of his hair, the confident air that oozed from his form—no matter how misplaced it was.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a finger on me.”

“So much fight in you,” Kier all but croons, his eyes raking across your body in a way that was less than savory. “I can’t wait to see how long it lasts.”

Breathe.

Years of training beside the spymaster had prepared you for this very moment and it’s easier to drift back into the memory of just another session; before things had gotten so complicated and he’d just been a friend eager to teach if you were willing to learn. Countless times you’d been in a similar situation—you, waking up tied up to some chair with ropes securing every possible joint in place and Azriel would leave you there as long as it took for you to figure your way out of it.

Allow the thrum of your heart be the beat that keeps you focused.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The cell wasn’t very large, four stone walls covered in grime and mildew with just enough space for two grown men to fit semi-comfortably. No windows. One door with a thin slot at the top large enough for two eyes to peer inside. No fire. No light. No warmth. No breeze, just stale, dank air that tasted of iron when your breathed in too deep.

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“What do you want from me?”

Kier inhales a greedy breath, his chest expanding in the ornate armor worn. It glistens even with no light—proving that even with his privileged title, he was never the one who got his hands dirty. “Many things,” He finally confessed, the words airy and nonchalant. He’s too cocky. Too comfortable. “But first, I want you to tell me about the Cursebreakers sisters.” He dares a step closer, arms crossed casually behind his back as a dark look begins to worm its way into his eye. “I want you to tell me everything you know about the Made ones and the power they stole from the Cauldron.”

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A smile works its way across his face—one so familiar it taints good memories with its stain. “I hoped you’d say that.” Kier walks past, the smell of his cologne burning your nostrils and you couldn’t imagine ever smelling tobacco and ash, bergamot and oakmoss without gagging ever again.

One knock on the thick steel door and slender male with hair like soot and eyes like a raven enters.

Your face remains a blank slate. Even as you take in the rubber material of his apron and the sturdy material of his leather boots. Well used gloves cover his hands and tucked under his left arm is a rawhide holder filled to the brim with all kinds of terrifying treats.

Breathe. Focus on your heart beat. Stay alive.

“Who are you?”

He takes his sweet time answering. Making a show of neatly setting down the holder and undoing the braided leather straps holding it in place. “You can call me the Butcher—everyone else does.”

“How original.” A thick swallow to quell the nerves; to shove away the shake that threatened to disturb your carefully curated cadence. The chains rattle as you shift, the tips of your toes just barely skimming the cool ground beneath you but not quite enough to relieve your wrists of the burden of bearing the entirety of your weight. “Well, Butcher—come make yourself useful and loosen my chains, will you? It’s starting to chafe a bit.”

His head shakes in his denial, barely acknowledging the departing Steward and the heavy thud of the shutting door—a lock sliding into place. “You don’t really want me to do that.” For donning such a threatening title, the Butcher is deceivingly soft-spoken. It sends your nerves into a fritz, triggering your fight or flight and for the first time since your eyes had opened and the darkness had waned; that delicately woven web of control slips from your grasp. “If you’re as stubborn as I think you are,” The sharp ring of metal twangs through the air and in his grasp is a perfectly polished knife a little too curved to be considered a scalpel. “You’ll need something to hold onto. It helps with the pain…for a time.”

Breathe.

“Then let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Butcher chuckles low under his breath, full lips concealed by an ever fuller beard—the only thing about him that wasn’t perfectly trim and proper. “Not a fan of foreplay?”

Fingers curl around the cool bite of thick chains, your chest rising and falling in a steady pattern as you began to dissociate. An attempt to keep your mind as protected as possible from whatever was to come. “I’m more of a rip-the-bandaid kind of girl.”

Death clings to the pristinely polished rubber of his apron, the creak of his gloves filling the space as worn fingers ready around the hilt of his weapon. “You know,” Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Disappear off into that numb place deep, deep within your mind. Ignore the bite of the blade poking around already sensitive wounds. “Under entirely different circumstances, I think I might’ve actually liked you.”

The switch flips so fast—too fast for you to catch but it’s impossible to miss the devastating burn that ripples through you as flesh is severed, muscle flayed and so, so much blood spilled.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time passes down here without access to windows and you’re certain that it’s intentional, aiding in the psychological aspect of their torture.

Relax and take in your surroundings. Notice things no one else thinks is important because that could be the one thing that keeps you from an untimely death.

The masculine baritone of Azriel’s teachings repeated like a mantra in your mind until it becomes the only thing distracting you from the sound of your flesh tearing, your blood drip, drip, dripping a misshapen puddle beneath you.

You force yourself to keep conscious, mentally noting anything your eyes are able to latch onto. Insignificant things; ebony hair, umber skin, a brand burned into the middle of Butcher’s left wrist in a symbol half-obscured by his gloves.

There’s a block on your powers, not quite faebane in its most lethal dose but paired with the wards humming against the walls, you knew using magic wouldn’t be an option for you. “Tell me about the Made ones and I can stop.”

“I don’t know anything.”

Just stay alive long enough to get help.

“You live there with them,” Butcher goads, crooked teeth exposed when gritted into that grimace of a sneer. Leather creaks under the playful twist of his wrist, the sharpened blade carving at muscle and obliterating sinew until you swear it reaches bone. “You share drink and food, you fight beside them in battle and you expect us to believe that secrets aren’t shared as well?” Every breath is ragged, a sheen of sweat coating your skin and unruly hair sticks to the curve of your neck. “Tell me what you know before I decide to get a little more creative in my methods.”

“Even if I did know anything, why the hell would I tell you? What would Hewn scum do with such knowledge?”

Your words have nicked a nerve, robbing the Butcher of that soft-spoken charm and replacing it with something more sinister. “You say the same thing to that bastard Illyrian you’re always seen around?”

A brow quirks, furrowing ever so slightly as it became more and more apparent that this was more than some spur of the moment kidnapping. Their questions, the desire to keep you immobile and battered but not enough to render you unconscious—not enough to be fatal. For whatever reason, they needed you alive and judging by the desperation that claws its way to the edges of Butchers voice, his curses and demands falling on deaf ears as your mind runs on overdrive to accumulate all the information you could before it was too late.

Each breath grows more labored, lashes fluttery and thick with exhaustion but just when it feel like too much—when you feel like giving up and succumbing to the sweet oblivion.

The rake of talons brushes against your mental walls. A cautious prod, testing your durability and utter relief washes over you when that feline lilt floods your consciousness. “We’re coming, just stay awake.”

The syllables barely reach your ears, sound faded by the obnoxious ringing that refused to subside—a side affect from all the fucking screaming and shouting. Swears slurring together the longer you snapped at the male before you, knees jerking and wounds barking in agony when the heel of your foot smashes so hard into his nose, his skull caves in; limp body dropping to the floor with a thud.

It’s all the strength you have in you and the death-grip you have around the chains is released all at once. Time moves in slow motion as you dangle there, vision darkening at the edges and that thrum of your heartbeat loud enough to distract you anymore. “Rhys they want— they want…”

So much blood oozes from your wounds, drenching your leathers all the way through and you were definitely feeling the affects. Your vision blurs, lids going lazy with just enough time to hear that voice—Azriel’s voice bellowing your name. “Stay alive.” He mutters over and over and over when he’s finally reached you, adrenaline pumping so high that he breaks the chains from their bolt with nothing more than his bare hands. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

You swear you try to obey the command, desiring nothing more than to keep Azriel's attention after finally being front and center in it. But it just felt so safe held in his grasp, tucked so close to his chest while he rids you of your restraints and applies pressure to gaping wounds.

All you wanted was one second. If you closed your eyes just for a second to gather your wits then you'd wake up and everything would be okay.

It sounds like a good idea-- so good that you allow the peace to wash over you like a cool tide washing over the shore in the early days of the burning summer; ignoring the desperate shouts from a vignette of voices that fades in the background like the haunting final notes of a song.

—

Confusion crashes at you in unforgiving waves, memories --or were they dreams?-- flash behind your lids with each blink. A dull throb pounds behind your lids, aggravating your mental shields to the point where you feel them wobble with each breath.

"You should stay still." Azriel's saying without giving you time to clear through the dense fog plaguing your mind. Instead, he busies his hands with fussing over your blankets, carefully tucking bare toes and pressing a five finger grip on your sternum when you attempt to rise from the soft cushion of a mattress that certainly did not belong to you. "It took Madja a while to get you all stitched up. Are you in pain? She left ointments and a few tinctures."

He's graceful enough not to mention the owlish blink of your eyes and their befuddled examination of his room until the crackly rasp of your voice cuts through the space; both of you refusing to address the elephant in the room. "My head hurts a little."

"Yeah," Shadows fuss with warm rags, sweeping it over your forehead and dabbing it along your cheeks while others occupy themselves with filling a glass of water to offer. "Rhys will be by later to apologize for that, I'm sure."

Your brows furrow deeply, nose scrunching when you sip your water. "Apologize for what?"

"You were in distress. We thought you were going to--" Azriel abruptly cuts himself off, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Rhys went in your mind, said that before you'd gone unconscious that you were trying to tell him something that seemed urgent enough to bypass the usual request to wait for permission."

Your heart begins to pick up speed in your chest and suddenly the desire to rise from this bed and run away was becoming horribly intense. Legs shift under the weight of a duvet that didn't belong to you, attempting to hide the way your sore muscles sink into the overwhelming scent of night-chilled mist. "Okay...and what did he see?"

"He saw you get taken," Azriel turns his back to you, expertly avoiding your eyes but the nervous energy buzzing off his skin was unmistakable. "He watched them carve you up and torture you for information about Nesta and Elain." The stabilizing breath he takes shakes his shoulders, the strong line of muscle barely concealed by the tight stretch of his leathers--leathers still stained in the blood of those who'd spilled yours, no doubt. "Rhys said that you didn't say a word. You didn't give them a thing."

"That's good, right?" A pillow is fluffed behind you, shadows doting on every need. "Then, why do you sound so upset?"

"Why do I sound so upset?" Azriel cruelly mocks, his aurate gaze positively smoldering with rage when they land on you. "Because, you almost died! You almost died in my fucking arms before I ever got the chance to—. What the hell were you thinking?"

The beating you'd endured does nothing to quell your fiery spirit, eyes lighting with life and lips running a mile a minute—too fast for your logical brain to keep up with. "I was thinking that they wanted information on your precious, little girlfriend." You all but spit out, childishly pushing away the comfort the duvet from your legs as you attempt to shuffle from Azriel's bed without disturbing the tight wrap of your bandages. Why the hell were you in here anyway? "I was thinking that maybe, it'd be easier for them to fucking butcher me rather than watch what would happen to you if it were Elain there in my place."

Silence stretches along the hardwood floor, cloaking up the length of the walls and muting out the low crackle of the fireplace; its flame gentle and calm in the midst of an emotional storm. "I almost wish you would've let it be her." Azriel fills the void, finally mustering up the courage to face you. "I could've survived that and whatever consequences came along with it because my mate takes precedence above all."

Just like that, all the spitfire you’d prepared in retaliation absolutely dissipates after hearing those two words. “Your mate.”

Azriel doesn’t confirm with words. Instead, he searches inside for the humming gold thread wrapped taut around his ribs, just above his heart and pulls. Fucking yanking at it with all his might and something sparkles in his eye when your body jerks in retaliation.

“You know?”

“How long have you known?”

Your heartbeat hammers against your ribcage, threatening to carve out a hole if that’s what it took to get to its other half. “A while.”

“And you’ve said nothing.” He says, tone sounding almost defeated. “Why wouldn’t you have said anything?”

“Because, Az,” The shadows have seized their tireless caretaking, sliding back into place beside their master as you lose the ability to accept the tender affection. “You wouldn’t have chosen me. Not before Mor and certainly not before Elain.” You’re quick to bristle over that part, not leaving any room for the spymaster to interrupt no matter how expressive his face became. “Besides, the bond is a choice not a burden and that’s what it would’ve been for you if I spoke up about it.” Pure determination is what allows you to bear the brunt of your weight , willing yourself to appear strong in the face of the male who could render you to cinders if he so pleased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to shower the dungeon smell off of me.”

A childish whine of a noise is ripped from your throat when Azriel huffs out a breath, murmuring something about you being stubborn as hell before carefully picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. It's embarrassing, a furious blush burning at the apples of your cheeks as he starts the shower, adjusts the temperature and slowly sets you down. "Thank you for that but you don't have to do this. I can handle cleaning myself."

"You can barely stand on solid ground on your own."

"I'll manage."

"I know. What I'm saying is that you don't have to." You nearly faint on the spot when Azriel crouches down in front of you, his hands shaky but sure when unlatching the difficult ties of your fighting leathers. His teeth grit together when the fabric is loosened and carefully worked down your thighs, over your knees and tugged away from your ankles. "Just let me help."

Azriel is nothing short of respectful, you notice. He doesn't sneak salacious peeks at the endless expanse of bare skin that he exposes. Doesn't once mention the tremble of your breath or the way your fingers seem to bite into the flesh of his arms whenever a new article of clothing is removed and dropped to the floor. Even after he's eased you into the shower stream; standing before him, perfectly presented on a soaking wet platter—he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

Shadows thicken over sensual bits, providing a shield between you and the male diligently applying soap to rag. Each drag of the slightly rough material against your skin releases a tension you hadn’t noticed you’d been carrying and all you can do is watch as he rids your skin of the thick film left behind when magic was used to clear away muck.

Eons must past before words are spoken, a this time Azriel is more intentional when he chooses them--more intimate when he relays them. "I'd always hoped for a mate. Ever since I was a boy and my mother told me stories about two halves scouring the world to finally become whole again." You're malleable under his care, pliant when he lifts your arms to scrub underneath and damn-near boneless when he turns you with slippery hands to slowly work the knots from your back. "I had always hoped that one day, I too, would find my equal." Azriel clears his throat, returning back from whatever memory he'd been sucked into but the massage doesn't stop; it only drags lower. "Then so much time had passed and I started to wonder if I couldn't find them because I wasn't being forward enough but that only lead to misplaced affections and unfulfillment."

"Azriel, I'm not sure if I really understand--"

"I felt something for you—something stronger than friendship but I pushed it away. I ignored it and looked elsewhere because I can bare not being as close with Mor and it’s as easy as breathing to never see Elain again but losing you—ruining the peace I feel when I’m with you would’ve broken me.”

Tears well in your eyes, a thickness welling in the back of your throat and your skin burns where his fingers touch, lingering near the dip of your back and just barely curling around the curve of your hips. “Az, you don’t have to say any of this to make me feel better. I just wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“Then, please don’t reject it.” His warmth ripples over every inch of you, your neck craning to make room for the forehead he helplessly drops in the crux of your shoulder. The perfect line of his nose drags along the curve of it, inhaling the soothing notes of your scent mixed with his body wash. “Don’t reject me—this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Finally his fingers curl around your hips, the grip gentle but oh, so claiming. “Can’t you feel it? This rightness.”

Raw emotion swims in the amber tones of Azriel’s eyes when you turn in his arms; searching within those rich shades to find any detection of a lie.

Not one reaches your radar.

The line of your vision drops, creeping down his nose until it fixates on the plush pink of his lips. Instinct takes over, offering a gentle nudge until the space between two is eaten up and breath becomes shared as a line was about to be crossed—a prophecy fulfilled.

When Azriel’s lips finally brush against yours, it’s like a coil snaps, unleashing an animal he hadn’t known existed. Sure, he had plenty of experience with childish crushes and boyish infatuation. But this, Cauldron, it nearly takes his breath away with its intensity—the burning desire that rips through his veins like a forrest fire.

One kiss bleeds into two hands desperate to acquaint themselves with your body until all that mattered was you, your spymaster and the sentient shadows protectively surrounding you both. “Azriel,” You all but keen in his ear, chest heaving and hips rolling into the hardness of him pressed against you.

“Mate.”

A whimper cuts through your throat, neck craning to make space for the perfect bruises he was sucking into the skin there. “I want you.”

“You have me,” He promises over the frantic beat of your heart, tongue laving over the soft fat of your breasts. “Even when my bones are rotting in the dirt, I’ll belong to you. My mate. Mine.”

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