#but then she gets older and realizes it's not the same for them and starts doing it again herself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iluvbuckets · 1 month ago

Text

wild thoughts

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: paige had always just been your brother's best friend. your little brother's annoying best friend. on a typical summer trip to your family's cabin, you start to realize maybe paige isn't so little and annoying anymore.

warnings: lots of plot!, hella teasing, a little body worshipping, overstimulation, oral + fingering, thigh grinding, paige comes in her pants, switch!paige but bottom!paige would also be accurate, praise of course

word count: 9.3k

notes: this was NAWT supposed to be this long but i got carried away lowkey. i'm considering writing a part 2 for this bc i love this dynamic

song: wild thoughts by dj khaled, ft rihanna and bryson tiller ❝when i'm with you all i get is wild thoughts❞

read part 2!

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it was always funny when someone at your college found out that paige bueckers follows you on social media–the paige bueckers, star of uconn women’s basketball.

because to you, she was just paige, your little brother, elijah’s, best friend who was over at your house so often you had to wonder if she had her own. she yells at the television at three in the morning over video games, paces around your house over basketball games, and eats your snacks out of the cupboard. she had been around so long that she is practically your parents’ third child, and they never let you forget it. there were pictures of paige hung around the house like they birthed her, not just pictures of her and your brother either–her high school basketball pictures, her senior pictures, pictures taken at her tournaments, you name it. not only that, but your grandparents would ask your parents about her like she was a grandchild. she was always invited to family holiday celebrations and family vacations, and while she rarely came to the holiday celebrations in favor of her own family, she never missed a vacation.

you never had a problem with it per se, but she was just your brother’s friend, so she was annoying by default. your brother was annoying, therefore she was too. which, honestly, she was. she was loud, spontaneous, and maybe even exhibited some warning signs of ADHD, and did you mention she would eat your snacks out of the cupboard?

you remember the day elijah met paige, because you definitely did not want to be there. you were seven and he was five, and it was his first ever practice for basketball (well, actually for any sport). it was a small, co-ed recreation league, so they advised parents to stick around during the hour-long practice just in case. even though you had made a compelling argument that you were obviously very mature and old enough to be left alone, your parents forced you to tag along with them.

practice was running smoothly, elijah looked like a natural, until about thirty minutes in when he bumped right into paige, sending her to the floor. now typically, you would probably expect a little five-year-old girl to sit and cry on the floor after being hit like that, but not paige. she got right back up and shoved him as hard as she could onto the ground. clearly not expecting that reaction, the coach quickly grabbed paige to hold her back like it was a genuine fight (which maybe it was to her–she had definitely looked pissed). after a quick time-out, they forced paige to apologize to elijah, which she was clearly reluctant to do, but she did so she could be put back into the game. they hugged it out and have been practically inseparable ever since.

your parents loved to tell that cute story to anyone who would listen.

when it was time for them to go to kindergarten, your parents and paige’s parents made sure they were in the same class. they constantly got in trouble for talking without permission, going off topic, and playing pranks in the classroom. they would get disciplined, but it never seemed to work because it continued all through elementary school.

as all of you grew up, you didn’t hang out with your brother and paige that much. you were a whole two years older with your own activities, own friends, and own hobbies which didn’t really align with what they were interested in.

there was one day when paige was in fifth grade and you were in seventh grade, when you heard a knock at your door. you were sitting on your bed reading a book, though it was a homework assignment for class so you would’ve rather been doing anything else. you expected it to be your dad since he always knocked now that you were thirteen, but after you shouted come in!, you saw an eleven-year-old paige bueckers standing there. she was wearing a t-shirt from her basketball league, a pair of black basketball shorts, nike elite socks, and her hair was in a pink nike tie headband with a ponytail. she looked nervous, like she didn’t know how to talk to you even though you had known her for six years at this point–like she hadn’t slept at your house literally last night.

“some of the girls at school were making fun of me,” she said, playing with her fingers and not making eye contact.

you immediately closed your book so you could set it to the side, patting the spot in front of you as a gesture for her to sit down. she did it hesitantly, still not looking up at you.

“why?” you asked, like you were baffled that someone would do that. which you were. paige had always been sweet and kind to anyone she talked to, and never had a problem with anyone. if she did, it was probably basketball-related, and she would talk it out with them right after she got off the court.

“they were saying i act and dress too much like a boy so i couldn’t sit with them,” she replied quietly.

you sighed. “don’t listen to them, paige. kids can be mean. there’s nothing wrong with how you dress.”

“but i do dress like a boy,” she said, finally making eye contact.

“what does that even mean?” you ask rhetorically. “you got those clothes from the girls’ section, right? so how are you not dressed like a girl?”

“they all wear skirts and dresses,” she said like it was obvious. you knew it was true, but it wasn’t weird to dress like a tomboy. you had a tomboy phase growing up, but since you joined dance, you started being more girly.

“so what? that doesn’t mean anything. i don’t like wearing dresses either,” you laugh.

“yeah but–” she starts, pausing like she doesn’t know how to ask the question that’s sitting on the tip of her tongue. “how do i be more of a girl like you?”

your face contorts into a sad expression at the question, not really expecting it at all. “paige, you don’t need to change how you dress to please some girls at school.” like a lightbulb went off in your head, you had an idea to offer a solution without changing herself too much. “have you ever painted your nails?”

the answer to the question had been no, which you were expecting, so you did. you painted her fingernails a pink color to match her headband and hopefully help her feel a little more feminine. you wish she didn’t feel the need to change herself because of a couple of mean words, but growing up outside of the norm was hard so maybe it would make it slightly easier.

after that, paige slowly seemed to start talking to you more. she would invite you to hang out with her and elijah and she would ask if you were coming to their games. you often declined as you had your own practices, games, homework, and friends to hang out with. you had started playing school-sanctioned sports so your schedule was busy. you had decided to play volleyball and run track, and paige would often accompany your brother and parents to your games and meets.

following a particularly successful eighth grade volleyball season, you had decided to quit dance to focus on volleyball in high school. in seventh grade volleyball, the plays and positions had been very basic to get you used to it, but eighth grade was a whole new game. you weren’t particularly tall standing at 5’7, you weren’t short but definitely not as tall as most players. your coach tried you as the libero, and you fell in love with it. while this meant you were spending more time in the gym than you did before, it also meant that you had more free time to hang out with and support your friends in their own activities now that you weren’t going straight from the gym to the studio.

you attended every junior varsity and varsity basketball game of the season in ninth grade, which also meant you attended all of paige’s games. though she was only in seventh grade, her skill level had caught the coach’s attention, and she was playing with the junior varsity squad.

even though she was your little brother’s annoying friend, you had a sense of pride watching her play up two grades like that. the little girl who had grown up with you was turning into an unstoppable powerhouse. you shouted her name the loudest (well maybe her dad and her little brother, drew, shouted louder) when she would make her shots, and you would shout at the refs when you thought they made a bad call on her.

one particular home game, you were standing in the hallway talking to a couple of your friends during halftime, eating some popcorn near the concession stand. you couldn’t help but overhear a comment from a couple guys who were standing near you from the other school. one of them was talking about paige. saying she’s overrated and other mean things that you didn’t want to repeat. your friends had told you to let it go because they were just jealous, but you couldn’t. you spun on your heel, approaching them with a rage you had never felt in your life. before they could even greet you, your fist connected with the nose of the guy who had been talking about her. the guy didn’t fight back, but you were walking away before he even could anyway. luckily, no one saw and you didn’t get in trouble because the guy was too embarrassed to admit that it was a fourteen-year-old girl who did it.

when you got home and your parents noticed your bruised, swollen knuckles, they obviously questioned you. you lied at first, saying it was an accident and they just let it go, knowing you wouldn’t tell the truth. about ten minutes later, your brother came into your room to ask what happened. obviously, you told him the truth. he was so impressed, but you made him swear he wouldn’t tell your parents.

the next day at school, rumors flew about how you clocked a guy in the face. there were various reasons for why and you didn’t bother to clear them up, but paige knew the truth because your brother had told her.

you hadn’t thought much of any of it until your dad pulled came into your room after one of her games shortly after that one. it was after the first game that paige had asked if you could get a picture after. she was nervous when asking and you immediately called your brother over assuming that’s what she meant, missing the disappointed expression on paige’s face.

“be nice to paige, okay?” he asked. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion because you were always nice to paige and had never really been mean to her to warrant a conversation like that. “i think she has a little crush on you.”

you hadn’t really considered that to be a possibility before, but now that it was pointed out to you, you were suddenly very aware of all of paige’s actions. her gaze lingered a bit too long, she laughed at all of your jokes, and you were the first person she looked at when she told a joke to make sure you were laughing. even though it suddenly seemed obvious, you weren’t sure if she even knew herself. she had never indulged in crushes or anything and had focused all of her attention on sports thus far. though, you did find it strange that she never seemed to have a crush on any of the boys in her friend group, but you figured that was just because she knew them too well.

you tried to keep a distance while remaining friendly to hopefully defuse that., and you hoped she didn’t notice.

by the summer before you were in eleventh grade, you had a boyfriend for an entire year. since it had been so long (high school relationship-wise), your parents allowed you to invite him to your yearly trip to your grandparents’ house, which was a cabin on the lake. of course, the invitation obviously included paige, elijah didn’t even need to invite her anymore because your grandparents did themselves.

you didn’t notice the way her jaw would clench when he would put his arm around you, bring you food, throw you in the water, or get near you at all. she tried to ignore the feeling, but she had an overwhelming sense of something when she saw it. she didn’t know what it was, but she knew she didn’t like seeing you acting like that with someone else. she didn’t say anything though, didn’t make it obvious to anyone except maybe your bother who definitely noticed. he didn’t say anything, either. she had never said anything to him about the possibility of liking girls, let alone his sister, so he chose to stay quiet and wait for her to tell him on her own time.

it was a long two weeks for paige, but she managed to get through it without losing her mind too much.

even though you loved that boyfriend and so did your family, shortly after the school volleyball season ended and club volleyball began, you broke things off. it wasn’t entirely mutual; he definitely didn’t want you to leave, but he understood where you were coming from. both of you were busy and were struggling to make time for each other. he was picking where he was going to college for track, and you had just signed to play volleyball for creighton.

when paige heard the news, she was ecstatic–internally, of course.

after the two weeks spent at your grandparents’ house over the summer and how she felt about you breaking up with your boyfriend, she had come to terms with the fact that she definitely was not straight and she definitely had feelings for you. it was a tough realization for her, even though when she tried to talk to her stepmom about how she was feeling, her stepmom made it seem like the most obvious thing in the world–like everyone already knew. it was a little comforting, but it was jarring at the same time. could everyone tell that she had feelings for you? she hoped people could only tell that she liked girls, not the girl she liked. even worse, she hoped you couldn’t tell because that would be mortifying.

she didn’t want to try anything either, knowing it wouldn’t be a good idea. you were older, more mature, and she wasn’t even sure that you saw her as anything more than a little sister or something like that. she just silently yearned, dreaming about what could happen if she told you. did you know? would you reject her?

not that it really mattered anymore, though, because for the rest of the year and through your senior year, you barely saw each other. you went to quite a few games in eleventh grade, but twelfth grade was packed with AP classes and volleyball practices. you tried to get to a basketball game when you could, but it was tough. you rarely left the gym and often times found yourself doing your homework late at night in the lounge area of it. you had something to prove in college, and you were working your ass off to get it. and paige was busy too. between playing overseas and out of state, she was rarely at school.

she managed to make a few volleyball tournaments, you attended a few of her games, and she attended your graduation, but other than that, time was passing fast, and you rarely stopped to take it all in. you had missed the family vacation that summer too. you were scheduled for summer training, but paige managed to go even after being overseas. she had sent you a text saying she missed you with a picture attached of her and your brother on the boat, which you responded back with something about how you missed her too and that you hoped she had fun with a selfie of you and your team in the school gym.

paige was giddy the entire two weeks about it.

your freshman year of college went as well as you could imagine. you were a starter for the team, you had bulked up in muscle, and you had a 4.0 GPA. and not only had you had a good year, but so did paige. you made sure to text her when she did something worth celebrating and she was always happy to hear from you. she did the same for you, making sure she never missed an accomplishment.

when she committed to the university of connecticut, your parents mailed you a uconn basketball t-shirt. you sent her a picture of you wearing it with a message saying “congrats, pretty girl <3 you’re going to do great things up there! i’ll be cheering you on the whole way”. of course, you didn’t think much of it. you had always seen paige as an extension of your brother, someone that you had always just been there, but paige thought her heart was going to fly out of her chest when she saw it. she hesitated to reply, but managed to send a quick and simple thank you back after a couple of hours. months later, you sent her another text with a photo of you and your roommates watching her play at the state championship on tv.

again that summer, you had to skip the family vacation, but she did too, so she wasn’t too beat up about it like the summer before.

through your sophomore year and her senior year, life couldn’t get any better for both of you.

until covid-19 lockdown cancelled paige’s final state championship.

she was distraught, rightfully so, at losing her chance to play in her final game for hopkins and for another chance at a championship. you sent her some apologetic texts and even a phone call because you know this meant the world to her, but it was hard to cheer her up. the future of her college career was uncertain at this point and so was yours. you had to come home from school suddenly, but luckily you didn’t have to miss any of your season.

to get away from it all, she had gone to virgina to spend time and quarantine with her friend azzi. the house was definitely quieter without her around. you thought that you would be happy to finally get to experience silence in your home, but it just felt empty instead. and your brother felt it too. one more than one occasion, he had come into your room seeking comfort about missing paige. it brought you two closer together.

as the world slowly opened back up and you were able to go to college again, you were ecstatic that this time, you would have a piece of you joining. your brother had decided to commit to creighton, just as a student though. even so, it made moving back to school away from home so much easier, and you could always trust that someone would be at your games. your parents had done their best before, but since elijah was still in high school, it was tough.

paige had an amazing freshman season and you texted her a few times to congratulate her, but you both were getting too busy to keep up like you used to. you didn’t really watch her games anymore and you didn’t text her for every game, but you managed to catch a few headlines about various awards she won.

that summer, the family vacation was put on hold. your grandparents were nervous about the pandemic given that all the kids were in college and could bring it back, so you stayed in omaha to work on your graduate school applications. your brother went back, though, mumbling something about not wanting to live in a house full of your friends or paying for summer housing.

and it was the same the next summer, too.

paige wouldn’t have gone anyway, after her injuries that season. you texted her about those, telling you how sorry you were. she didn’t get to come to your college graduation and she sent you a congratulations text to make up for it–for both graduating college and getting into the graduate program you wanted, but you understood.

and you ended up having to repeat that for her junior season. you had sympathy for her because she would have to miss out on her entire season twice in a row, something she was working so hard for.

you didn’t talk to her much beyond that, but you could imagine she was devastated.

luckily, her senior year went a lot smoother. she was fully cleared, and playing harder than ever before. after she announced that she would be returning to uconn for a 5th year, your dad called to let you know that you would be having a special family vacation at the cabin to celebrate. grandpa and grandma were healthy, paige was healthy, and it would be the first time in years that you would get to do the tradition–though it wasn’t much of a tradition anymore. you made sure that you could make it because you missed your parents, your grandparents, and truthfully, you missed paige. you didn’t have to miss your brother because you could visit him whenever you wanted, but you guess it would be fun to hang out with him just like old times.

the drive to the cabin in your parents' car was so nostalgic, you almost had the urge to cry. the familiar view of trees lining the road, though there were several new houses and stores lining the route. when you were younger, paige would ride along with your family, but this time she was driving herself. you couldn’t remember why, but you didn’t really question it.

when you pulled into the driveway, you saw your grandpa’s minivan and a brand new jeep in the driveway–a jeep you had never seen before. you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering who the hell was at your grandparents house.

your dad put the car in park, immediately popping the trunk to get the luggage out and inside. if there was one thing about him, he certainly didn’t waste any time getting settled in here. you got out too, looking around to take it all in. you had always loved coming here, this house had so many memories.

usually, though, your grandparents were rushing to the porch at the sound of the car door to greet you with a hug and a kiss, but they hadn’t come out yet. you tried not to think about it as you grabbed your suitcase and carried it inside. you left your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, not really feeling like carrying it up to your bedroom at the moment. you could see your grandparents sitting on the back deck laughing through the big windows of their living room, so you all walked toward the door to see what had them so occupied.

your dad was first, opening the door and immediately saying, “hey, what’s the deal?”

“oh, shit! you’re already here!” your grandpa laughed, pushing himself off out of the chair to give your dad a hug. your dad quickly bent down to give your grandma a hug as she stayed seated in your chair.

“paige got here early! we must’ve gotten distracted talking about how amazing she is,” your grandma explained.

then your dad turned, opening his arms wide. “paige,” his voice was soft, “it’s so good to see you again, kid.”

she stood, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “i’ve missed you.”

when your dad stepped away, you were able to catch a glimpse of paige, and you swear, time stopped for a few seconds. she looked wildly different than the last time you saw her in person, and the livestreams and photos didn’t do her any justice. she looked grown up, like an actual adult rather than the little girl you remember running around your house. her hair was pulled into a messy low bun, probably because of the heat, and she was wearing a gray fitted tank top with black shorts and sneakers. you noticed she had definitely been spending time in the weight room by the defined muscles in her shoulders. her features were sharper, face slimmer.

you were snapped back to reality when it was your turn to hug your grandparents, giving them quick hugs before turning to paige. you tried not to make it obvious that you were feeling a whole different way for your brother’s best friend than before as you said a hello and gave her a quick, probably too quick to not be obvious, hug.

you knew it was going to be a long two weeks.

and the first week only proved that.

you found yourself staring at paige when she was doing anything–swimming, playing pickup basketball with your brother, sitting at the breakfast bar, playing cards with your family. and she definitely noticed. you made eye contact almost every single time. at first, you would immediately look away, but you started testing the waters and holding it. she almost always broke first. you hoped no one else noticed because you couldn’t help it. the veins in her hands, the accentuating lines on her abdomen, the new curve of her ass–they were all distracting.

she started getting bolder too. touching your waist or back just barely whenever she went by you, bringing you snacks or drinks, and making sure to always be on your team when you were playing games. your dad and your brother would snicker quietly, clearly assuming paige’s crush never subsided.

it was friday night, and your grandparents had invited a few of the other families that lived close to come hang out a few hours ago. it was normal, you knew all the families that were coming, and so did your parents. your dad had grown up in this house, so they had all known each other for years. you had been talking to one of the girls for a while, trying to catch up, but you could feel paige’s eyes trained on you.

she was sitting across the deck from you at the table with your brother and a couple of the other kids from the other families. you didn’t know what they were talking about, but paige didn’t seem too interested at all. the only thing that was holding her attention was you and the seltzer she was holding in her hands.

after around twenty minutes, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. only, you didn’t even really have to go to the bathroom, you just could feel yourself getting antsy under the intense stare.

paige excused herself too, mumbling something about how she needed another drink. your brother didn’t see you go inside, nor was he really paying attention, so he didn’t even say anything as she chugged the rest of her seltzer and pushed the back door open.

you had gone to the bathroom upstairs to splash some cold water on your face and give yourself some light affirmations in the mirror about how you would be able to get through this week without any issues or slip ups. it wasn’t really convincing, but you managed to peel yourself away from the bathroom to join your family anyway. you knew that if your dad even suspected that you irish-goodbyed him at his own childhood home, he would come searching for you to drag you back out–especially since he had been drinking. you took a deep breath before you started down the stairs, trying to calm yourself down so paige didn’t notice she was getting to you.

when you got to the bottom of them and walked down the hall, you saw paige in the kitchen leaning against the counter. she was gripping it like it would run away, her head hung between her arms like she was struggling with something. with the way it made her muscles pop, you wouldn’t be surprised if drool started dripping from your lips.

“hey,” you said casually as you entered the kitchen.

her head immediately snapped up to look at you, and she seemed stunned for a few moments, too shocked to even reply. she shouldn’t have been, she knows you are here and she followed you inside. you visibly chuckled at her, but she just watched you as you moved past her to grab a drink from the fridge.

“need another?” you asked, grabbing a random can from the shelf and holding it out for her. she stared at it for a few seconds before slowly reaching out for it.

“thank you,” she said quietly.

you cracked your own can open to take a drink, holding eye contact with her while doing so. she held her breath, clearly nervous about where this was going but you had a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“i’m glad you’re here,” you say, leaning your hip next to her hands against the counter. “i was beginning to think i’d never see you again.”

she pushed herself off, copying your position while facing you to use the height difference to her advantage. holy shit, when had she gotten this tall? well, she had been that height since high school, but the new body made her seem more powerful in her stance. she used to be a lanky kid who grew too fast for own body to keep up. she seemed to have gathered her composure as she smirked.

“are you saying you missed me?” she asked, seemingly assuming that she could make you nervous. you were a little nervous, but you knew you had the upper hand in this situation.

you tilted your head flirtatiously. “yeah, i did, but i didn’t expect you to look so...” you paused like you were coming up with a word to use, “different.”

she raised her eyebrows in shock, struggling to swallow from nervousness as her lips parted. you glanced at them then back at her eyes, knowing what you were doing. she seemed to be searching any part of her brain for a coherent reply, but was coming back with nothing.

you just smiled, taking a step back and walking back onto the porch to rejoin the conversation you had abandoned. and for the rest of the evening, you could feel paige’s eyes on you again, but you made zero effort to give her a glance back.

after the party had died down and it was far later than you intended to be awake, you sat in one of the chairs that had been left out with a drink in your hands, watching the water. you were below the deck, so just slightly out of the line of sight from the house so no one could see you and come interrupt your moment. that is, until you heard paige walking down the rickety old wooden steps. she jumped a little, like she had not expected to see someone there, but quickly recovered. you watched her for a moment before gesturing to the chair next to you in a silent command for her to sit down. she did, of course she did.

“what are you doing awake?” you ask in an accusing way, like she was in trouble.

she laughed at your tone. “trying to figure out what different means.”

admittedly, you were not expecting that answer or even anything similar to it. it took you a little off guard, but you were able to not make it obvious. she sat back in her chair casually, staring at you with intensity, waiting for the answer, and you did your best to match it.

“what do you want it to mean?” you asked.

“i don’t know,” she shrugged. “you’re the one who said it.”

you chuckled and looked away, nodding at her words. she obviously had an answer she was searching for, and you had one that probably aligned with it, but you did not want to give it to her right away.

“you’re not gonna tell me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

you shook your head stubbornly, making eye contact with her again. “i think you know.”

the air between you two was suddenly loaded, tiptoeing over the line that had never been crossed. you both knew where this was going, and you could cut the tension with a knife. though, she didn’t seem very patient to get the answer.

her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. she hesitated for a moment, suddenly aware of how close your chairs were. “i want you to say it.”

you pretended to think about it for a moment, even adding a little hum for dramatic effect.

“nah.”

you figured that would be the end of that, that you had made paige just nervous enough to back down. she would go back into the house and overthink this interaction. but she didn’t. she leaned in toward you, her eyes shifting to stare at your lips instead. she stopped just before your noses were touching.

“c’mon,” she murmured, brushing your noses together. “tell me.”

you consider giving into her game. you consider closing the gap and pressing your lips together in the kiss she’s obviously baiting for, to give her exactly what she wants. what she’s been waiting for.

but you don’t.

you bite your lip, turning your head forward toward the water.

“shoot,” you say as you stand, “i’m beat. think i better get to bed.”

she stares up at you with parted lips in shock, thinking she was going to finally get what she wanted. and she will, you intend to, but not right now. you want to tease her, string her along a bit more, make her desperate for it. but you didn’t have much time left to do so.

you walk back up the stairs of the porch without looking back at her, proudly smirking to yourself like it was an accomplishment. she stares at you as you do, not even able to be annoyed at how that played out. she doesn’t know why. she always gets what she wants, so she didn’t know why she wasn’t angry, let alone annoyed.

when you made it up to your bedroom, you closed the door softly to not wake anyone and flopped onto the bed. you stared at the ceiling with your arms crossed across your chest, thinking about how you were going to approach this. part of you wishes you had just given in and gotten what you both wanted, but this was fun. it was fun to know that you had power over her, the girl who would call herself the ultimate rizzler. maybe she was back at school, but you had yet to see it. here, she was all nervous smiles and glances and gentle touches that could be mistaken for something else. you had been the ones leading the conversations that were loaded with anything but friendliness.

even though he made jokes about it sometimes, you wondered if elijah would be mad about this. apparently, he used to love telling paige that you were home or that you’d be at a game to test her and see if she would react. she tried not to, but everyone could see right through it. which you had just learned this week from your dad after he had a few too many drinks. paige tried to play it cool, but you didn’t miss the blush that rose to her cheeks as he told the stories.

well, even if he would be mad, it’s not like you have to tell him. it’s not like you’re asking for her hand in marriage. you doubt that paige would tell him anything because why would he want to hear that stuff about his sister? you definitely wouldn’t want to hear about him from girls that he hooked up with.

the sound of a door closing in the hallway broke you from your thoughts. you knew it was paige’s, that she had finally come inside for the night. even though you wanted to keep her waiting longer, your body betrayed you as you pushed yourself off the bed and walked to your door. your hand hesitated on the knob for a second, because really, what were you doing? but you opened it nonetheless.

unfortunately, paige’s door was directly in front of yours. to make up for it, you stood stupidly in front of her door, contemplating just turning around and going back to bed. you didn’t know what to say or do once she opened it–if she opened it anyway. you almost wish she wouldn’t.

before you could even convince yourself not to, you knocked on the wood twice in an attempt not to wake anyone else up. you could hear shuffling from within the room, making your mind wander to what paige could be doing in there. you didn’t have too long to think about it before the door was creaking open, though.

her expression was a mix of emotions–both surprised and not surprised to see you standing there. surprised that you were standing there knocking on her door in the middle of the night, but not surprised because you were the only other person awake. she stared at you for a few moments, not really knowing what to say.

you didn’t know what to say either, but it didn’t matter. you reached your hand out to fist the collar of her shirt, pulling her down to your height and crashing your lips together. she made a surprised sound in the back of her throat, but quickly recovered to kiss back with an open-mouthed, heated intensity that you weren’t expecting. her hands flew to your waist, using them to tug you into the room. you used your other hand to close the door, so she took advantage of the opportunity to press your back against it, pressing your bodies together. you didn’t even realize that your hand had released the grip on her collar and had a light grip on her throat.

you must’ve accidentally squeezed because she whimpered against your lips, snapping you back to reality. you pulled away breathlessly, a look of disbelief in her eyes. you just smiled, leaning forward to give her another peck.

she tried to chase you, but you just whispered, “goodnight, paige.”

and with that, you spun on her heel, opening the door and closing it behind you. your heart was racing from what you just did, and you almost wanted to skip back to your room from the giddiness. that wasn’t even your intention, but you knew it would definitely linger in her mind.

behind the door, paige was staring at it in shock. her hands were still in the same position they were in on your waist and her jaw dropped. one, because she couldn’t believe that actually happened. and two, because you really did her like that. like, what the actual fuck? she had half a mind to march her ass across the hallway and give her a piece of her mind.

she didn’t, though. she did exactly what you wanted–didn’t sleep, just stared at the ceiling wondering if she was hallucinating.

you thought that you would probably do the same, but as soon as you laid down, you found yourself falling asleep.

at around 10am the following morning, there was a knock at your door. you groaned loudly, extremely annoyed that someone decided to wake you up from the best sleep you had in months. they were polite, at least, because they were waiting for you to answer instead of barging in (so it definitely was not your parents). you huffed as you sat up in bed, throwing the covers dramatically and padded over to the door.

you turned the knob and pulled it open to see paige standing there with a disheveled bun like she had been tossing and turning all night, and a blank look like she was trying to mask how she was really feeling. it woke you up, suddenly remembering what you had done to her last night. before you could even say anything, she was using one hand to push you back into the room and closed the door behind her, eyes on yours the whole time.

“good morning to you, too,” you laughed.

“you think this is funny?” she deadpanned. it definitely caught you a little off guard, and had you wondering if she was genuinely angry at you. you definitely wouldn’t blame her if she was, but you also didn’t really think it was that serious.

“maybe a little,” you shrugged nonchalantly. though, you didn’t really feel nonchalant at the moment. your heart was pounding against your ribcage and you were struggling to control your breathing, but you hoped it wasn’t obvious to her.

she blew a laugh out of her nose, clearly unamused, and rolled her eyes. you watched as she bit the inside of her cheek, but you couldn’t tell if she was trying to figure out what to say next or if she was genuinely upset.

“y’know what you do to me?”

you tilt your head slightly, raising your eyebrows like you’re confused–playing dumb. obviously you do, you both know that, but this was unclaimed territory. you had never really been friends, let alone anything close to where you are now, and everything changed last night. you would never be able to take back the one thing that completely changed the trajectory.

“tell me,” you say so softly it was almost a whisper.

“i think you know,” she replies with a smirk, copying you from last night.

you hesitate for a few moments to weigh your options on where to go from here. you know you could keep asking and she would probably tell you, but she’s even more stubborn than you. you could leave her hanging for the third time in twenty-four hours, but what’s the fun in that?

“i do.”

she swallows hard, clearly not expecting an upfront answer like that. she completely expected you to dance around the subject like you had been–to keep her wondering and hanging onto an idea that she wasn’t even sure was real. not that she had a reason to doubt anymore after last night. her face was unreadable, but you could tell that she was nervous now. she didn’t expect that answer, and now wasn’t really sure what to do. she didn’t think she’d get this far, to be honest.

instead of waiting for her to make the first move like you planned, you put your hands on her waist, fisted her shirt, and backed her against the door like she did to you last night. her breathing sped up enough for you to see the shallow rise and fall of her chest, relishing in the power you had at the moment. you pressed your bodies together and brushed your noses together, not wanting to close the gap yet. her lips parted as you did so, her eyes closing in anticipation.

a smile rises to your face when you decide to pull away again, loving this game you were playing. she seemed to not return the feeling, though, because she automatically reached out to grab your throat and crash your lips together again. you expected it to be intense and fast like last night, but she kissed you slow and sensually like she was trying to savor the moment–like she didn’t know if this would ever happen again.

you loosened the grip on her shirt to press your hands on the small of her back and press your bodies impossibly closer. she tangled her other hand in your hair, but didn’t pull.

“you’re drivin’ me crazy,” she whispered into your mouth, but didn’t give you any time to reply.

the heat of your lips and bodies pressing together was more passionate than you had ever felt in your life. you didn’t know what it was–if it was the anticipation or the amount of want between the two of you. she was definitely still holding back, and you wanted paige to let her guard down fully.

the hand she had on your throat slid down slightly to your chest, using the position to lightly push you backwards. you didn’t even take the time to think about what she was doing, but her intentions were clear when the back of your legs hit the bed. she gave you a light shove so you fell backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress with a soft thud. she didn’t waste any time grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head as she smirked down at you, exposing her black nike sports bra.

you figured she would immediately crawl on top of you to continue kissing you, but she sank to her knees in front of you. you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch her curiously. she held eye contact as her palms smoothed over the skin of your legs from your ankles up to your knees. then, she leaned forward to place a soft kiss along the inside of your knee, trailing up your thighs slowly with close-mouthed pecks. when she reached the hem of your shorts, she placed a kiss to your other leg and trailed back down to your other knee, her hands coming up to smooth over your thighs.

wetness pooled in your shorts at the touch. even though you would be content going slow if you were in her position, you wanted her to speed up and move to where you wanted her the most. it was only okay when you teased like this.

and you thought she was going to give in as you watched her face get closer, but instead, she used both hands to push up your t-shirt to expose your abdomen and placed a kiss just above the waistband of your shorts. she started to trail her kisses up your stomach toward your breasts, but you interrupted her.

“paige,” you groaned in annoyance, trying to resist the urge to push her head down.

she just laughed against your skin. “what?” she asked with a combination of amusement and innocence dripping in her tone.

you rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh. honestly, you had no right to be complaining after last night, but that was your game to play. you were supposed to be the one in control of the situation, not her.

“i thought you were patient,” she accused playfully.

“i never claimed to be,” you replied, but you knew exactly what she was referring to anyway.

she shook her head, a light chuckle leaving her lips. one of her hands traveled from your shirt slowly down your stomach to your shorts, teasingly tracing over your clit through the fabric. the sensation was more intense than you thought it would be due to your lack of underwear. you expected her to move her hand again when she noticed, just to keep you waiting, but instead, she lowered her hand and mouthed over it through the fabric. you sighed, placing one of your hands on the back of her head.

her pointer finger hooked around the waistband of your shorts to tug them down. you lifted your hips directly into her face to assist her, causing her to laugh, but you didn’t even think about it. you just wanted her to stop wasting time, to stop teasing. once your shorts are off, she doesn’t do anything for almost an entire minute, just stares at you to take it all in. she almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

“paige,” you impatiently groan again, “seriously.”

without any hesitation, she leans forward and flattens her tongue to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit while making sure she’s holding eye contact the whole time. you bite back a moan, not wanting anyone in the house to hear you. but when she starts to circle your clit with her tongue at a fast pace that you weren’t expecting, you can’t hold it back. her hips buck forward slightly and thighs clench together at the sound, loving that she is the one making you feel like that.

you should’ve known she would be good at this. you’re sure she has all the girls falling to her knees back in storrs, connecticut. she probably has so many girls crying over her, wishing they would be next, and you say a silent thank you to whoever taught her to do this so you could experience it.

one of her fingers traces your entrance lightly causing you to grasp her hair, probably messing up her bun, but neither of you care. she pushes two fingers inside you and your back arches off the mattress. they curl inside you as she pumps them in and out slowly. the contrast of her tongue quickly circling and her fingers moving slowly makes you buck into her face, and she moans against you. you can’t help the way your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling.

she pulls her mouth away to gauge your reaction, speeding up her fingers and using her thumb against your clit to make up for it.

“does that feel good?” she asks lowly, but you couldn’t help but notice that she sounds genuine too. like she isn’t confident in her abilities–her amazing abilities, mind you.

you open your eyes to meet hers, seeing a genuinely curious glint in her eyes. “so good, paige. you’re doing so good for me.”

her eyes widen, hips bucking forward again. you hadn’t even touched her yet but she was having to squeeze her thighs together to keep from coming in her pants. she couldn’t help it though–the teasing, the sensual kisses, your moans caused by her. it was shocking too, she doesn’t know if she has ever gotten off this much and this fast just from pleasing someone else. maybe it’s because it’s you, the girl she’s been waiting for to finally look her way.

her mouth is back on you again, but this time, instead of her fingers moving slowly while her tongue quickly swirls, her fingers are moving fast too. they’re curling inside you desperately trying to find your spot. it’s so much, and you can feel the pressure building in your stomach already.

“shit,” you moan, trying to hold back your release. “fucking me like you were made for me.”

but then she moans against you again, and that’s all you need before your stomach tenses and you’re coming on her fingers. she keeps the pace, working you through it relentlessly which drags it out much longer than you expected it to last.

you twitch as you begin to come down, but paige doesn’t stop.

“w-wait–fuck, paige,” you stutter out. your hips attempt to buck away, but she throws her arm across your hips and squeezes to keep you in place, and your unoccupied hand presses against her forehead. you apply a little pressure, but not enough to actually push her off. it’s too much but it feels so good–you can’t decide if you want her to keep going or stop.

“i’m not done,” she murmurs–or maybe whimpers is the more appropriate word.

you moan loudly as your thighs clench tightly around her head, but she doesn’t care. she continues to fuck her fingers into you at an intense pace, circling her tongue like she wasn’t losing any stamina. it only takes about a minute before you’re falling apart again, but you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it.

with your head thrown back against the mattress, you don’t even notice the way she’s clenching her thighs to hide her own orgasm.

luckily (or unluckily), she slows her pace this time to help you work through it. when you finally came down, she pulled her fingers out causing you to wince at the sudden emptiness. then, she slowly stood, trying to cover up the way her legs were shaking a little bit. she sheepishly bit her lip, hoping you didn’t notice the way she had just came in her pants in a touchless orgasm.

you do notice her legs shaking, though. you sit up, placing your hands on the sides of her thighs and smoothing over the skin.

“you’re shaking,” your voice is soft as you say it, and she can’t meet your eyes.

your hands quickly move up to tug her shorts down her thighs. when she realizes what you’re doing, she scrambles to help you. after she steps out of them, you move your hands to her hips to tug her into your lap. she complies, straddling your thighs awkwardly. clearly, she didn’t do this often either. you groan when she settles herself down completely, feeling the wetness through her underwear brush against the muscle of your thigh. not only that, but the way her clit is pulsing too.

“fuck, paige,” you moan, looking up at her with amazement, “did you come already?”

“no,” she replies a little too quickly. but you don’t miss the way her cheeks turn red.

“you’re so cute,” you laugh, leaning forward to press your lips together.

she cradled your face in her hands as your lips move together slowly. you used the placement of your hands on her hips to grind her against your thigh.

“is that okay?” you whispered against her lips.

she started to grind her hips slowly on her own, then whispered, “yes.”

“i want you to make yourself come again.”

you pulled your lips away from hers to kiss down her neck, nipping at the skin while making sure you didn’t leave any marks so she didn’t get in trouble with her coaches. she threw her head back in a moan at the feeling.

“you look so good in my lap like this,” you reply. “so desperate for me.”

her head drops to bury itself in your neck, a whimper leaving her lips. one of her hands gripped at the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling slightly. you couldn’t help but smile at her even though she couldn’t see it.

“feels so good,” she whispered hesitantly like she was nervous to say anything. “never want to stop. i could fuck you all day.”

you moan as your hips bucked up to meet hers causing your thigh to press against her harder.

“fuck, i’m gonna–” she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before she was crying out and coming hard on your thigh, still sensitive from her orgasm earlier.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me,” you say, smoothing your hands over her back in a comforting way.

when she came down and stopped twitching, you wrapped your arms tightly around her waist and pulled her back as you allowed your back to meet the mattress, her lying on top of you. giggles erupted from her lips at the action which caused you to laugh at the adorable sound.

“we should do that again sometime.”

#paige bueckers x reader #wlw smut #wcbb x reader #wbb x reader #sub!paige bueckers

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gl1tchxr · 2 years ago

Note

Paradox and Hex info? A smidge of lore for me?

They aren't technically siblings, but Paradox became an orphan at a very young age and Hex's parents took him in, so they're siblings in every way that matters. Hex, in the way some older siblings do, hated him for things that are natural for a child or even completely out of his control, like being annoying and taking attention away from herself. So he was bullied by Hex and her friends throughout childhood.

To escape from it all, he developed a habit of running off into the woods, already a crime in itself, and later "corresponding with the enemy" by making friends with a kid in a similar situation as him just from a rival country. Hex was the one to discover he was doing this and tattle to their parents. Paradox ended up banished by the next morning.

Although Hex fully intended to get him in trouble, she greatly underestimated the severity of the situation. She never would have wanted this. It weighed on her heavily. For all she knew, Paradox could be dead. Even if he was alive, he could never go home. And it was her fault.

Between the guilt and the grief, her grades fell and effort dropped. Once the prize pet to show off to all the other high-class parents, Hex became something of an embarrassment to her family. At the slightest transgression, a trip to apologize at the spot where she caught Paradox's crimes in the woods, no less, her parents practically leaped to have her banished as well. Better to have no children than a failure of one, in their eyes.

At first, Hex wanted to find Paradox, but with the entire world to search and no way of knowing if he was even alive, she quickly gave up on that. So she did what she had to do to survive. Her skill with conjuring illusions, learned from the classes made mandatory thanks to her country's anticipation of war, was put to use as a travelling magic act. It didn't pay much, but it let her see the world.

One day, however, there was someone familiar in the crowd. Paradox. Alive. And watching her show! Hex was overjoyed, but only until she saw his face.

Ever since the night she broke what little trust he still had for her, Paradox hoped and hoped that she would face the same punishment he did, no matter how slim the chances. And here she is, the perfect, favorite child, cast out to die just like him. And all he can do is laugh.

#ghost post #paradox #hex #ANON I OWE YOU MY LIFE #I LOVE THEM SO MUCH #they should love each other but situations keep getting in the way #when youre a little kid and an even smaller little kid gets thrust into the family and your parents start paying attention to them #instead of you thats gonna make you mad at the younger sibling instead of the parents cause you dont know any better #(said with love to my older sister who did this exactly to me <3 we're good now dont worry)#when parents treat siblings unfairly and she keeps rubbing it in your face youre gonna get mad at her and not your parents #when theyre finally removed from the situation is when hex realizes that hes not the one to blame #and paradox should have realized the same thing abt her except he has a world record in repressing everything #its hard to love your sibling when your shitty parents keep pitting you against each other #AS WELL AS the country dont forget about that #pov you're trying to have a normal childhood but your horrible government is shoving war propaganda down your throat #its when they meet up post banishment that they can finally have some semblance of a normal relationship #but it takes time to get there cause of all thats happened #paradox not thinking about it for years and then when he does hes still in the same mindset as when it happened (which is retribution)#and hex going through years of grief only to find out it was for someone who wants her dead #i need to draw them together #reminder for anyone who got to the end of these tags that my inbox is always open for oc asks or any asks in general #request a drawing. suggest a situation to put them in. even just scream their name into my inbox and ill tell you about them. go wild

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lilhughesy · 2 months 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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jjjjisun · 4 months ago

Text

My Playmate, My Sister

Hanni X Male Reader | 8566 words

TW: Incest

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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Book commissions here.

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I'll be honest, growing up with a sister like mine was no cakewalk. It was abundantly clear that my sister, Hanni, was destined for some form of modeling from the moment she started developing her killer body in her early years. All throughout high school she had the attention and longing gazes of every boy, man and even some women there. As I went through my freshman year, lusting after any bit of female I could grasp, I was constantly teased about my senior sister's looks and how much every one of my friends would love to "bang her."

Now I won't lie and say I didn't notice; after all, I was in the peak of my sexual desires too. However, my thoughts never strayed beyond the occasional hope to see her coming out of the shower or undressing in her room. I did get a peek every once in a while, but it was all innocent and never got out of hand. Luckily for me, Hanni was incredibly wholesome and modest about her looks, having a few lucky boyfriends here and there but largely displaying her beauty in tolerable amounts. So even though I had to stare down or ignore someone for the occasional comment about Hanni's "hot ass and tits," I never felt embarrassed by any of her actions.

I suppose I should probably tell you what she really looks like. Aside from a body that looks to be sculpted from marble, she is about 5'3" weighing just over 100 lbs. She has 24" waist and from inspecting some of her more seductive lacey bras in the laundry is done I know her breasts measured a full 32C which I wanted nothing more than to at least any chance I could get. She has the most gorgeous eyes, more green than hazel, framed by a cute, freckled face and tiny chin. To top it all off she has the perfect shade of blonde hair with dark streaks, which she wears in a variety of styles mostly with long bangs swept across her face.

Unfortunately, in high school I was a shrimpy little kid, never really breaking 130 lbs. until my senior year, when I finally came into my own. So when Hanni brought her usual slough of beautiful friends around, I was always just her little brother to them. It didn't matter to Hanni though, she was a bit nerdy like me and was always willing to play a video game or two or watch a movie late at night. She even got me with a few pretty girls if she knew their older sister or invited me to a party she could maneuver me around. She and I got along well, and even though we didn't interact much at school, we have always been good friends. After she went away to college across the country we separated a bit, but whenever we were both together we were thick as thieves.

But things changed for her early in Hanni's Junior year of college. As I walked through a convenience store on my way to the train home from school, I caught the top of a Playboy on the clearance rack behind the counter.

"I'll be damned if that doesn't look just like Hanni's face," I thought, not even realizing what that would mean if it really was her.

I asked for the copy, and after I showed my 19 year-old driver's license to the cashier and a sideways glance, he handed it to me. The photo on the cover, now many months old, was definitely in Playboy's usual style, airbrushed and photo-shopped to an almost unrecognizable degree, but I was 95% certain it was my sister. She was body-painted in the same colors as her college, Oregon State, and displaying what I had always known to be her fan-fucking-tastic form. I had no time to dwell on it, however, as my friends were all waiting so I shoved the Playboy into my backpack, paid and headed outside. I could barely focus on getting to the train and then home, and I don't think I said a word for the whole ride to my stop 30 minutes away.

I was in shock; "would Hanni really do that? She's always been adventurous but this is totally different," I thought.

When I finally got home I made for my room as fast as I could after a quick catch-up on the day with my Mom. As I pulled out the magazine and that's when I knew for sure, the beauty on the front cover was my sister. I thumbed through the pages and opened up to a her spread, not even thinking of the taboo implications. There she was, for all the world to see, and what a sight it was. She was going by the name Hanni Jean Underwood, obviously not the same as our family name. She was every guy's wet dream, clearly the best looking in the entire magazine, and she was my sister. I had to say it in my head a few times before it really set in, and after a cold shower I pulled out my phone and decided to text my sister.

"Hey Hanni, anything new," I wrote.

A few long minutes later, I received:

Hanni: "Nope, nothing really, I'm coming home Friday, a week early for summer, though!,"

Me: "That's cool, is something going on?"

Hanni: "Just felt a little overwhelmed is all."

Me: "Anything you want to talk about?"

Hanni: "We can catch up when I get home in a few days, okay?"

Me: "Sure, I miss you."

Hanni: "Miss you too!"

Soon enough it was Friday and I was nervous to see my big sister so soon after the recent development. I decided to do a little research online, and I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see. A quick search of her name brought a whole bunch of results, at least three photo shoots - all stemming from the fact that she had apparently been crowned playmate of the month in July. I clicked on each gallery and scanned the page, seeing my sister laid out in a bunch of unbelievably sexy poses in all states of undress. I couldn't help it, the pictures were turning me on. I imagined her laid out on the window-bench in my room, looking at me straight in the eye as she pulled her top off, light glancing off her just like it did in the pictures. In my daze I didn't even hear the sound of my sister clamoring up the stairs, and then standing at my open door, seeing clearly what I had found.

"Okay, now I know what that text was about," she said as I clicked out of the browser at the speed of light. "No point in pretending now, we obviously are going to have to talk about this."

I just stared at her, she was different than the last I saw of her about 8 months before that. She was tan, her hair was better than it had ever looked, and she was in the best shape of her life. Even her clothes were thin and more revealing than ever, and after looking at the pictures on my computer, I realized I would never see her the same again.

"Come here and give me a hug first, I've had a long day of travelling," she said with fatigue thick in her voice.

At 19 years old, I was a full 6'0" and taking good care of my body had left me at 180 lbs. with a decent shot with women. I walked up, towering over her now, and she sank into my arms. Maybe it was what I had just seen on the computer, her clothes, or maybe it was something she was doing on purpose, but every part of her seemed to be pressed against me. I could feel the swell of those amazing breasts pressing against my chest, and my hands around her felt a toned backside most girls dreamed of.

"You've really grown," Hanni said, leaning most of her weight into me as she ran her hands innocently over me.

We hadn't seen much of each other the previous summer as she was working (at Hooter's I later learned) near her school in Oregon. That and the 8 or so months of school had given me plenty of time to grow, gaining an inch or two and a ton of manly muscle, if I didn't say so myself.

She moved away from me and looked into my eyes, saying "I need you to be calm about this, and to please not talk to Mom or Dad about it until I'm ready."

Still slightly aroused, I pulled myself together, "Okay, but you have to tell me all about it at least."

She eagerly agreed. We sat in my room, the loving brother half of me paying attention to her story of how she was found in a little Playboy talent search I had seen on the cover of that fateful magazine and how the feedback on her first photos was so good they decided to make her Playmate of the Month. The other half of me could not stop thinking of what I had seen and how this beautiful specimen in front of me could be seen by anybody in the heart-stopping galleries online, and that she was my sister!

"...so what do you say?" I snapped back in. After a short pause she knew I hadn't heard the question.

"I know this is a lot to handle, but let's just do our best to act normally around each other, okay Oppa?"

I agreed of course, and she hopped out of my room, her sculpted little butt swaying a bit as she turned and shot me a slightly mischievous smile.

All things considered, it was pretty normal around the house for the next few days. Our parents were rarely around, busy with their work or fairly hefty social lives, so I didn't have to deal with blurting out our secret to them. Hanni was out visiting friends during the weekend and I was studying for finals, albeit occasionally distracted by the fact that I had a Playboy Playmate living under the same roof. One night as I studied for a relatively easy exam the next day, Hanni came in and we talked for hours, her in tight white tank top and some tiny shorts, teasing me, maybe not so unintentionally, the entire night. She told me she had dropped out a few months ago because things were going so good with Playboy. Then she began to talk about her love life, something that had never really been off limits with us. It was obviously different now to talk about love and relationships and sex, for my mind kept straying to what a man might do with a girl like my sister in the privacy of their own room.

"I can't relate to any of the guys I am meeting, they all are kind of slimy and just want me because of my photos. I miss being with a guy who might actually care about me, and I miss the sex too," she said, blushing and looking down, missing the wide-eyed look I had on my face.

I told her about some of the girls I had dated, and even noted a hint of bitterness as I named a few girls she apparently didn't approve of. She curled up in my arms as we talked through all of the changes in both our lives and we fell asleep together, laying a comfortable distance apart.

When I awoke I felt like a million dollars, warm and cozy and ready to get up and shower before my test. Slowly waking I realized the coziness came from the gorgeous girl I was now tightly spooning and who had wrapped herself around one each of my arms and legs. It was both loving and arousing, and I realized my hand was gently resting in the middle of her perfect chest. I tried to slowly move out of position but she only latched onto me more, pushing my hand further into her soft, cotton-covered breasts. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before I hardened fully and she would easily be able to feel it. That worry disappeared as she closed the space between us and nestled her tight bottom right over my shaft.

"Mmmmmh, good morning Oppa," she said softly, wiggling a bit as she turned her head to look at me.

It was excruciating to resist the urge to thrust forward between her cheeks. There was that suggestive smile again.

"I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time, I am so glad to finally be back," she whispered.

"How long will you be staying? Are you going to have to leave for any more shoots soon?" I asked quietly, trying not to move or address the fact that I was aroused by my sister.

"Actually, there is talk about making me Playmate of the Year, but I don't think I stack up to the competition. Either way, I have another shoot in a few weeks," Hanni said, turning to face me and finally relieving the pressure on my growing problem.

I paused, appearing deep in thought, "Yeah, I wouldn't count on it." I said sarcastically, making a funny face at her as her mouth dropped, insulted.

In mock anger she rolled on top of me, battering my chest with playful blows as she straddled me, both of us laughing as I grabbed her wrists with one arm and tickled her always sensitive sides with the other. As she twisted to avoid my prying fingers, her hips ground lightly down on my still slightly enlarged member, and I could hardly focus on the tickling for all of the pleasure it was causing me.

The wrestling intensified, both of us breathing hard between laughs and feeling her lithe body against mine. Our play continued, and I rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed with her hands above her head. Her tank top had ridden up by now, revealing a mouth-watering abdomen and her bottoms were scrunched up towards her waist. She panted beneath me and arched her back, trying to push me off of her and once again forcing herself against my engorged cock. Still holding her down I moved my mouth to her abdomen and blew, making a funny sound like I used to when we were just kids. The subtle scent of her body wash and perfume lingered and she squealed as I rubbed the morning whiskers of facial hair on her smooth skin.

Displaying that she had obviously been working out, she somehow gained leverage over me and flipped back on top, her legs interlocked with mine, straddling my thigh. I could swear I felt faint yet rhythmic thrusts against my leg with her nimble frame squashed against my chest. I could feel her warm breath on my ear and she finally sat up raising her arms in victory as I gave up, exhausted. If I hadn't been so entranced with our arousing battle, I might have noticed her nipples standing proudly and entirely visible through the soft cotton of her tank top.

Our horseplay ended, and as I looked up at her with her abdomen and firm breasts heaving from our tussle, I knew then that she would undoubtedly win Playmate of the Year. It was almost as if she read it on my face, because she gave me a little peck on the lips and hopped off, maintaining the innocence our little slumber party had began with. She had the walk of an angel and she once again smiled at me as she bounced out, swinging around the frame of the door and out of sight. I laid there for a few minutes, trying to pull myself together and shake off any further thoughts of the hottest woman I had ever laid eyes on; it was no easy task.

As I worked through my exam, my thoughts occasionally strayed to Hanni, wondering what was going on and if I was out of my mind for thinking of her as any more than a sister. The exam was as easy as I thought it would be, so I finished and returned home early. When I got back my sister was at the fridge, deep in thought, biting on her finger as she always did. Dressed in tiny jean shorts and an oversized football jersey, tied at the waist and hanging slightly over one shoulder, I thought of she now seemed to know exactly what to wear to complement her figure. I scolded myself inwardly for then thinking it would be better if she wore less.

"Oooh, you scared the shit out of me," she said as she jumped and the jersey fell the rest of the way down her shoulder, revealing the strap of a black bra beneath.

I wanted to ravish her on the kitchen table right then and there as she turned her head and cocked her hips, playing at my desires.

"I was just going to make us both lunch, how did your test go?"

I told her about it as I sat at the table and she prepared lunch, slapping my hand away a few times that I reached for some little morsels.

"I've been taking cooking classes," she told me, "It's funny because I'm finally doing all the things I want to do, maybe I wasn't cut out for college anyway."

"You're nuts Hanni," I fired back, "you have always been the smartest girl I know, and are probably still the only female who can beat me in any game on the Xbox.... you're amazing."

She glowed in response to my comment her striking eyes locking onto mine, "I love you so much Oppa."

We ate and chatted about this and that, and I realized that even though Playboy Playmate status had taken her from a hot young girl to a to-die-for image on the page of a magazine, we still got on as well as ever.

"So I was thinking," she interjected, "I've got to go to this club tonight and shake hands with a bunch of the higher-ups of Playboy here, but I don't really want to go alone. They might be a little weirded out if I brought my brother, but do you think you might want to go as my date?"

"I mean, sure, if you think that's okay," I fired back, excited but nervous.

"Of course it is," said Hanni happily, "I'd just love to have someone to hold on to, it can be kind of intimidating considering the nature of the work."

She told me a little more about the night and what was in store, some dancing, some drinking and of course some more playmates - which I obviously couldn't complain about. The rest of the day went on with little consequence, we watched a movie together and caught up on some work individually.

After I had thrown on a nice button-up and dress pants I went and sat on the couch and waited for Hanni, who was never on time. When the doorbell rang and I hopped up to answer it, I was surprised to see a expensive-looking limousine sitting in the driveway.

"We should be going sir, wouldn't want to keep Hanni's employers waiting." said the driver.

Just then, the click of heels on hardwood alerted us that Hanni was finally ready to go. As I looked up I nearly collapsed, and so did the driver. Hanni wore a red, slightly shimmering dress, cut low between her breasts and high on her thighs. Her cleavage was so perfect I could die happy right there, the dress seeming to be holding on to it for dear life. It clung to her form and I couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight. As she gracefully stepped down the stairs in her simple but sexy black heels, the driver struggled for words.

"Good e-evening Miss Underwood, I am d-d-david, your driver for tonight."

Hanni was a good sport and thanked David as we walked out the door. As I took the first step out the door, Hanni stopped me and whispered in my ear, causing a tingle to run through my body,

"I think he saw something he liked."

Not to be outdone, I turned and whispered back, "He wasn't the only one."

She squeezed my hand and after she got in the limo, David, who was holding the door said, "You are a lucky man." I knew I was.

Hanni sat close to me the whole ride there and her presence was intoxicating. The night pretty much went as Hanni had described, we sipped on drinks while meeting a whole bunch of people who pretty much jumped over me to get to Hanni as she answered their questions. When all of the connections were finally made, Hanni dragged me toward the bar and said

"I need a shot or two, I almost couldn't stand it anymore."

I agreed and we both winced back two shots of something that was way above my budget, apparently free of charge. Then came playmate introductions. Some were scattered about the dance floor, others at various bars about the classy establishment. I recognized some from television but most were gorgeous and unknown to me. I did, however, notice that almost every one of them paled in comparison to Hanni.

Hanni dragged me onto the dance floor among the beauties and we were innocently spinning each other around and sharing the occasional close moment as the alcohol began to work its magic. Then, as if in a dream, Jessica Burciaga, a crush of mine with whom I had spent a little time flirting with earlier grabbed me for a dance. The beating music, dark atmosphere and ever-present buzz of the alcohol had me confident and forward as the tanned, Latina beauty pushed against me. She was beginning to really get into it, grinding her hips against mine in away only a fiery girl like her could. I was in another universe, doing what every guy always dreams of, and with her hands on top of mine I felt every inch of my long-standing playmate crush.

I obviously wasn't paying attention to much else because it took me a while to notice that Hanni, who was nearby, had found a guy and was dancing against him too. I tried to disregard the immediate pang of jealousy I felt, but it would not go away. Jessica was now doing her most seductive dancing, pulling my body into hers, our breath heavy upon each other, but it wasn't enough to keep me from stealing a glance at my sister across the way. Her dress was catching the little bit of light on the floor and her body was unfathomably sexy as she moved to the music. Once more I looked, and I saw on her face the same jealousy I had felt. Our eyes locked. We stared at each other as the music seemed to get quieter, and our dance partners continued their movement around us. I knew she wanted to be dancing with me at that moment, and I, with her. At the end of the song we thanked our partners, and Jessica planted a kiss on my lips, slipping a note into my pocket and whispering for me to call her.

I approached Hanni, who was now glaring at me and leaning on the bar a few feet away.

"Looks like somebody is having a good time," she said with a bit of an attitude, "you can take the limo home with her if you want, I'm sure I can get another ride."

"Hanni, don't be like that," I said with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster, "I got carried away, besides, it looks like you and Mr. Hands over there were getting along just fine by yourselves."

She loosened up a bit at that comment and looked at me sideways, smirking, "alright, just promise me at least one dance before the night is up killer," she requested with a sweet look on her face.

"Hanni," I said with a hint of seriousness in my voice, "I don't want to dance with anyone else tonight if that's okay with you."

Instead of voicing her approval, she stood on her toes and planted a kiss right on my lips, holding my head in her hands as she did. It only lingered a second, but I saw stars as she pulled away and motioned to the bartender to make us two seven-and-sevens. She leaned over the bar a bit, and the bartender ogled her cleavage as I, on the other end was helpless to the view of her backside, the red cloth stretched thin over it. I wondered if she was wearing any underwear, "maybe not," I thought mischievously.

We took our first sips silently as she batted her eyelashes at me, somewhat embarrassed from the kiss.

"I hope that wasn't your best effort out on the dance floor Hanni," I said with a hint of arrogance, "I don't think Playboy would like it if they knew their new protégé danced like she was at a junior high mixer."

Hurt, Hanni quickly shot back, "oh and I suppose you would have me shaking my ass like that little tart you were dancing with?"

"I'm not saying I wouldn't like it..." I trailed off.

Hanni quickly set down her drink and grabbed my hand as if to say, "I'm done talking about it, let's dance."

She dragged me deep into the crowd of people; it's amazing how you feel more private when surrounded by thick swells of human beings. At first she just pushed me back, swaying to herself and running her hands seductively up and down her flowing curves. My head spun as I watched and I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or my hot older sister moving like she was in front of me. Then she approached me and I wrapped my arms gently around her, careful not to break the rhythmic surging of her body. I began to move with her, running my hands more daringly around her, and I heard a quiet moan into my neck.

She gracefully grabbed my arms and spun herself around, facing away from me and keeping herself enveloped in my grasp. Her style was entirely different from Jessica's, and I couldn't get enough. I savored the feeling of her petite form against mine as she ground he firm ass slowly against me. There was no question why dancing like this had become so popular, her undulations and grinding aroused me more than if she had instead turned and grasped my shaft with her nimble little hands herself. I was no amateur myself, and I moved easily behind her, touching her in all the right places, proud to see many people watching us dance so well together.

We were lost in each other, our heads buzzing from perhaps one too many drinks. I buried my head in her fragrant blonde hair, blowing softly on her neck - a move I had successfully used in the past. We were both so aroused about the fact that nobody knew our true relation that we nearly forgot it ourselves. She leaned back and looked deep into my eyes, my gaze confirming that I felt as strongly as she did. As she turned her head I boldly pressed my lips against hers, tasting a hint of cherry on her lips. I was not entirely surprised when she opened her lips a bit, and her tongue darted out to touch my mine. We broke the kiss about as soon as it started - locking our eyes together as she turned toward me and hugged her close once more.

Then after a few seconds that felt like hours, we ended our pause and were making out like a couple of teenagers. She jumped gracefully into my strong arms and we battled our tongues to see who could display the stronger desire. We were hidden from the outside world by the surging crowd but I could swear our passion caused a good number of couples around us to start engaging in the same activity.

After we were both out of breath and tired of pounding music, we broke our kiss and I said with a witty smile, "what do you think about getting out of here and going back to my place?"

She showed me that beautiful smile of hers and grabbed my hand once again, dragging me outside. I held her in my arms as we waited for the limo, and once inside we made sure the divider was up and she jumped in my lap like there was no time to lose.

Now that we had room to move about our kisses were practiced and still overflowing with desire. She thrust gently against me as I ran my hands up and down her sides, then lightly resting them against the breasts I had so dreamed of seeing. I ran my fingers in circles around her nipples which were protruding stiffly through her red dress. She moaned into my mouth and continued grinding herself against me as she straddled my lap. Not wanting her to do all the work, I gently laid her tiny frame down on the seat and hovered over her.

I teased her, putting my lips just millimeters away from hers and as she snapped up to try and lock hers to mine, I pulled away, concentrating on my hands moving firmly from her legs all the way up to her face. When they reached their destination, I grasped her neck and finally locked lips once again, this time lightly pressing my leg between her thighs. She moaned enthusiastically, barely able to maintain the kiss as I pressed hard and then eased over and over. My fingers moved just below the fabric next to her generous cleavage, wishing my hands were unhindered by the dress. She swelled back against my leg and I continued to massage her body and breasts. Just as she took a deep breath in anticipation of impending orgasm, there was a knock on our tinted window and we realized we had been stopped for some time. I looked down at Hanni and collapsed, both of us laughing at how our arousal had caused us to lose all track of time.

"Not fair," Hanni said, gasping and visibly pissed to be withheld what would have been a fantastic orgasm.

I pulled her up, also unhappy to be leaving the privacy and comfort of the limousine's cabin.

As we left vehicle, the driver said "Goodnight to you Miss Underwood, and to you too sir," giving me a knowing look.

Hanni was none the wiser as she sauntered toward the door, still moping about her suspended pleasure. I thanked the lucky stars that my parents were spending the weekend on a sailboat with friends and I would have the house, and Hanni, all to myself.

When we finally got inside and I shut the door, Hanni pushed my body against it softly with her own.

I looked at her and started in a concerned tone, "Hanni..."

But Hanni put her finger over my lips and stopped me, saying, "I want this, and I know you do too. I am your older sister, I can make my own decisions. Yes, this is technically against the rules, but so is looking at those pictures of me online little brother."

I thought about it for a second, "You've made a few good points."

"Now," she said, a little more demanding than I am used to, "I am going to go upstairs, and if you know what's good for you, I suggest you grab us something to drink, preferably without alcohol, and follow me up in five minutes."

With that, she turned and headed up the stairs without looking back.

I was stunned, and more than a little turned on. My sister had never been so forward in her whole life, but I loved the new her. I grabbed two waters and stood at the counter in the kitchen, taking hold of reality and reveling in how lucky I was. I knew that when I walked up those stairs, I would be spending the night with the most beautiful girl I'd probably ever come across, let alone my sister and a Playboy Playmate unlike any other. With that, I knew that there was no decision to make and my feet took me up the stairs like they had a mind of their own.

Taking a drink, I opened the door and for the second time that night, my sister blew me away. She had been under the covers, but as I opened the door she sat up and proudly showed off her full form. I literally spit out the water I had just drank as I took her in; she giggled, flattered at the reaction. She was wearing a slightly transparent magenta lace bra, which pushed up her ample breasts ever so slightly. Her bottoms were a simple but sexy black cotton that I couldn't wait to rip off.

She motioned to me and said "Come here;"

I walked to the edge of the bed. She crawled on all fours at me like a jungle cat, and equally as graceful. As she came eye to eye with me she took one of the bottles from my hand, opening it and taking a quick drink. She capped it and dropped it nonchalantly to the side, the glistening water still on her lips. She then gave me a slow and sultry kiss, once again holding my head in her hands; I could taste the cool water on her lips.

I placed a knee on the bed and pulled her close to me, once again beginning to slide our tongues against the other. I tried to go as slowly as possible as I laid her down and continued to kiss her deeply, but how could you blame me, with all the skin to explore my hands moved on their own. Up and down they travelled, not wanting to leave an inch of her body unexplored. I kissed her neck as I massaged all over her, and she once again began to pant into my ear, quickly nibbling at it. I couldn't believe how exciting it was to feel her move strongly against me, arching her back and thrusting her hips out to meet mine. My hands cupped her round cheeks and gave them a squeeze; I could feel her smile as we kissed.

My hands finally finished their journey, and one of them moved to the clasp in her bra. I had never been too good at removing a bra, but tonight, I was so hot with luck that I did it in one fluid motion. The fabric loosened, and I slowly walked my fingers along the patterned lace. She loved how much attention I was paying to each part of her; she had thought hard about what to wear for me. I pulled back from her face and looked into her eyes before I knew I'd finally have her naked body before me. The soft glow of the lamp nearby upon her made her all the more beautiful.

"Oppa...I..." she started, but this time it was my turn to quiet her, with a kiss.

She was about to tell me how much she wanted me, how happy I made her, but I already knew, and she let out a breath in relief as I acknowledged it with my kiss.

I ran my hand up one of her arms and placed it above her head, and doing the same with the other I joined them, restraining her harmlessly. With my free hand I gingerly moved her bra up her arms and covered her with my body, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side. She nipped at my lip and caught me off guard, freeing her hands and allowing her to reach for my shirt and nimbly unbutton it faster than I could have myself. She pushed it down my shoulders and off and I kissed her once again, our partial nakedness adding fervor to our efforts.

I finally wrapped my hands over her breasts, one at a time, playing with it slowly and beginning to breathe heavily myself in arousal. I thumbed her nipples and found that she was extremely sensitive there, because her moans became more frequent into my mouth and neck. We both moved our hips against each other in unison, mimicking the action we both so desired to get to, but I wanted anything but to rush things. She on the other hand, had already begun removing my belt and unbuttoning my pants, and in no time, she was wrapping her legs around my pelvis and impressively removing my pants mostly with her feet.

I could feel her pussy wet against my thigh, and our new proximity caused me to resume the pressure that had been so effective in the limo. I once again had her humping at my leg, becoming wetter with each push. I replaced my thigh with two of my fingers, rubbing softly but surely against her lips and clit. She squealed in pleasure and dug her nails lightly into my back. She was so close to orgasm she could barely stand it, and as I drank her in I couldn't fathom that a girl could be any sexier. My older sister was beneath me, begging for my touch, both of us wanting each other more than we had ever wanted someone before.

As I continued my ministrations, I slipped my fingers beneath the cotton of her panties, finding her mound baby smooth and slick with her desire. Being the consummate teaser that I am, I continued to keep her at the peak of her pleasure without pushing her over. She was frustrated, and she began to grab at my cock through my boxer shorts. She moved her dexterous fingers over it, allowing me to savor the feeling and the cotton between them. Then, just as I had done, she moved her hands underneath my boxers and grabbed me firmly, shuddering occasionally from my own onslaught of her smooth quim. She brushed her fingers up and down over my shaft, lightly touching the tip and rubbing the pre-cum over it.

"Please...please....oh...Oppa," she begged into my ear as I continued to rub against her clit and eased one finger, and then two, slowly into her wet pussy.

In and out I moved them gently, feeling how tight she was, but only enough to keep her bucking her hips at my touch and begging for release.

She once more grasped my cock, not even able to wrap her small hand around it and pushed her other hand against my chest.

"I want you, no... I need you...inside me," she pleaded.

Now I may have been teasing her, but the entire time I could do little more than think about how fantastic if was going to feel to finally be inside my gorgeous playmate sister. I kissed down her neck, not failing to stop at each of her breasts and lick tenderly at each hard nipple, hearing her moan in return. As I continued I kissed at her tight abs, belly-button and then looked up at her, smiling as I pulled her panties down the first few inches with my teeth. She managed a smile through her sighs of passion and I finished taking off her cute little black bottoms the rest of the way with my hands. Me standing at the foot of the bed, she reached out with her toe and grabbed the elastic band of my shorts, pushing it down, showing me what she wanted. I took them off in one fluid motion and when I looked up she was using both hands to make a 'come hither' motion at me.

As I slid up her body, feeling our skin rub lightly against each other, I knew this was it. We stared lustfully and longingly into each other's eyes and I could feel my fully enlarged shaft pressing directly between her soaked folds. We kissed once more, a kiss so deep and meaningful that only a brother and a sister could share, and I gazed upon her stunning features.

"Are you sure this is what you want? I know I do, but I want you to be sure," I said, and I meant it.

She pulled me close and, still panting, spoke a breathy "Yes...fuck me...please."

She reached between us and gently pointed me directly towards her, placing the tip right at her entrance. With one hand, she pulled at my back, encouraging me to move inside of her. I did as instructed, but as if in one last effort to tease, I pushed only a bit of my tip inside of her before pulling it back out. The feeling alone was unbearably good, and I had hardly entered her yet.

This time she demandingly breathed, " Oppa," strongly, "Fuck me."

With that, I began to press into her. We both gasped into each other's necks as I slid in, inch by inch. I stopped briefly for her to adjust to my sizable cock, and pulled out a bit, causing us both to hold our breath at the feeling. Finally I made one final thrust, and our hips touched together as we joined in a passionate kiss. We were both smiling from ear to ear at the sheer bliss we were experiencing. She pawed at me, fidgeting at the intense pleasure I was giving her.

I could have stayed locked together like that forever, but we both began, slowly at first, to rock against each other. We stayed pressed together as my cock slid further and further, in and out of her impossibly tight tunnel. I began to lose focus on the kisses we had been sharing and was unable to do anything but grasp at her hips with one hand and support myself with the other. Her moans came almost every other breath now, a sound so soft and sweet I wished they would never stop.

"Oh...oh...Oppa...Oppa," she gasped into my ear.

"Hanni...Hanni...you feel...so....fucking....good," I whispered back.

We were moving as one, two bodies locked in a passion for each other so strong nothing could not stop us. She then wrapped her legs around me, grabbing at me with her heels and pulling me deeper. I continued to thrust in and out, and she pushed in perfect time back toward me, grinding her clit against me every chance she could. We pushed hard enough each time that I could see her breasts, possibly my favorite feature, bouncing a bit at each stroke, still sizable even as she lay on her back. She began to squeal just a bit now with each breath, a pitch that just barely came through with each breathy moan. Finally, the orgasm I had deprived her of for so long came and she tensed up, grabbing me with impressive strength as I kept moving in and out of her, her pussy pummeling my cock with its contractions as she came for what seemed like minutes. She continued to moisten and I continued to thrust, not allowing or wanting her to come down from her climax. I couldn't believe it, I still had time to go, and though I could probably have made myself climax at any second, my body seemed determined to let me continue my enjoyment of the amazing playmate, my sister, before me.

She finally began to come down from her orgasm, and pulled me tight against her.

"Don't move.. I can't handle it... I need a moment," she managed to say.

I observed her in her post-orgasmic glow and once again had time to marvel at my luck.

"Tell me when," I challenged her.

A few slow, controlled breaths and, as if encouraged by my dare she said with all the strength she could muster "when."

With that, she flipped on top of me as she had done so many times before, without removing herself from our incestuous connection. I could tell that she was still sensitive from her first orgasm but after a few seconds she began to move her toned core in the most seductive motion. She flexed and relaxed her abs, working me in and out of her soaked pussy like a piston around a camshaft. She smiled as she saw my eyes roll back, astounded at her ability. I firmly grasped her body, feeling it move and moving with it, my hands free to do whatever they pleased. I took her breasts in my hands, cupping them and feeling their weight and wonderful softness. She leaned into me, still moving her hips so smoothly up and down on my cock. I thrust up meet her downward movements, us now face to face and joining again in a lustful kiss. I felt myself closer to orgasm but fought it away, I couldn't give in just yet. Hanni on the other hand was not quite close, I could see her face change just a bit with each up and down thrust, and you should have seen it as I moved my thumb to her clit. As I rubbed at her little button she smiled again against my mouth and moaned my name:

"Oppa...fuck....Oppa....oh God."

Encouraged, I scooped her up, moving to the edge of the bed still inside her and could feel us both pulsing now that the thrusts had momentarily stopped. I looked around for something to set her on and found the that padded bay window across from my bed to be the perfect place. I stood up, but always wanting to try it, and her light body the perfect size, we began to fuck standing up. I grasped her ass tightly in my hands and she wrapped her legs around me. We adjusted to the position and for a minute or two were once again lost in our passion as I fucked her, the sexy little minx that she was, as well as I could. Holding her weight distracted me from my own not-so-far-off orgasm and I plunged into her again and again, seeing that she was enjoying it too. The feeling was like no other, having her wrapped securely around me, suspended in the air and still enjoying the heat of her sex sliding up and down my shaft. I savored it, her breasts pushing against my chest so I could feel her teasing nipples and each breath.

"Fuck...fuck...fuck me...Oppa... fuck your sister... Fuck you're big...shit...shit...Ohmygod."

I was so turned on by the dirty mouth she got as I fucked her, she never spoken like that before, and I began to pound her harder. Her moans got louder in approval as I pounded at her and her little hole nearly dripped in enjoyment.

Finally I moved with her still impaled on my cock over to the window, set her down, and looked her right in the eyes as I pulled out just past the tip and then began to thrust back into her slowly. Our looks both shouted that we loved and wanted each other so badly. My cock fit perfectly inside my sister's tight little pussy. I knew my orgasm was coming, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that hers was too. She looked back at me, pleading with me to keep going, and we both watched between us as my cock disappeared inside her again and again. The pleasure was agonizing and we never wanted it to end.

Each stroke brought us closer to our impending climaxes and I looked over her body one final time. She was just barely glistening with sweat and her face was flushed. Her chest, and firm breasts with it was heaving with each moan. She once again pulled me into her with her legs, and used one hand to bring my face to hers. I brushed the hair from her face and grasped her hips with my other hand. We were oblivious to anything else now but the sensation of her wet tunnel grasping at my cock. We alternated between quick, fulfilling strokes to slow and pleasurable ones where we held our breath for an entire thrust.

We ground against each other, feeling our bodies pressed together and our tongues dancing drunk with lust, and we were both seconds away from release. For a few strokes we looked deep into each other's eyes, wanting to see the other pushed over the edge. I pulled out one final time and Hanni's teary eyes begged for that one final advance. As I thrust into her, she screamed aloud, and I nearly blacked out as I began releasing inside of her. Her walls contracted around me, flowing with fluids and I pumped my seed again and again into her, trying to thrust in deeper as I did. She was clutching at any part of me she could with her hands, unable to breathe until her orgasm began to fade. Her legs held me inside of her, and I could think of absolutely nothing as a wave of such intensity washed over me that I went temporarily blind. Hanni quivered again and again as her own orgasm rendered her limp in my arms. Her pussy squeezed the last bit out of me and we both held each other, speechless for who knows how long.

I began to pull myself from her and the tenderness of our lovemaking made it almost impossible to move without both of us trembling at the feeling. As I finally moved completely out of her, we both felt an intense emptiness, which I remedied by quickly laying her down in the window and sliding in behind her. I held her tight as we spooned on the cushions, every sense heightened, and our desires for each other stronger than ever.

We lay like that for a long time, just feeling each other breathe, still unable to form words or thoughts at what had just transpired. All I knew was that I had just had the experience of a lifetime, and I wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. As if reading my mind, Hanni finally managed,

"I can't believe what you just did to me, that was...." I was hanging on her every word, "fucking incredible," she finished.

We both smiled at her phrasing, and I knew she felt the same as me.

"I love you so much Hanni, and that was the best thing that will ever happen to me," I said back, knowing that words really couldn't describe fully how I felt.

Hanni turned to me with a look on her face I didn't understand, "best thing that will ever happen to you, Oppa?" she questioned. "What about next time?"

...to be continued

#njz smut #newjeans smut #hanni smut #gg smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #newjeans #njz #hanni #smut #kpop #newjeans hanni #njz hanni

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ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat · 4 months ago

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california gurls - spencer reid x fem!reader

reader's beach partying gets interrupted by the fbi... she finds a way to make it fun when she realizes a cute doctor is around and so is her jeep

genre: smut wc: 2133 warnings: early seasons spencer, subbish!spencer, he whimpers, reader wears a bikini, mentioned rapist and murderer, mentions of harassment, reader has been with asshole men, reader has a jeep, car sex, unprotected sex, reader is on birth control, brief nipple play a/n: based off california gurls by katy perry!!

California is absolutely a cliché. Sunkissed skin, bikinis, Daisy Dukes. The golden coast holds parties–like this one–scantily clad girls and slurring morons that look exactly how every other frat boy looks. Here you are, representing that very image. With your red bikini and sand-covered feet, you’re the epitome of a California girl.

In the corner of your eye are palm trees, under which are several tanning ladies. Boys are practically drooling, necks craned to get a peek. Speakers play pop that seems to move everyone–including you. Bodies splash in sparkling blue, hips rock to the rhythm. The music booms. That is until it comes to an abrupt stop.

You look over to see a group of men in sunglasses approaching, one of them evidently responsible for the music-murdering due to his apologetic shrug. He’s obviously not that sorry. Male voices seem offended by it.

The one that turned off the fun stands tall, a black man that–if you didn’t know any better–you’d say was from around here. Another is shorter and older. The one you find most interesting, however, is tall and scrawny, with hair curling around his ears and a permanent nervous smile. To be completely honest, it’s cute. If you could see beneath his sunglasses, you’re sure you’d find overwhelmed eyes bouncing between each tanned body.

The big one–the black one–lifts credentials from his belt.

“Listen, we’re with the FBI. There’s been a string of rapes and murders in the area and we have reason to believe that the UnSub has been here. He might even be one of you.”

Someone–you’re not sure who–raises a hand and asks, “UnSub?”

“Unknown Subject. Bad guy. Perp. You get the idea.” He takes off his eyewear and hooks it in his shirt. “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. This here is Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi and,” he points to the cute one, “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Dr. Spencer Reid awkwardly waves before crossing his arms, lips pressed in a tight line. You wonder what kind of doctor he is and if you should pretend to faint.

“We’ll be asking you questions one by one,” Rossi explains.

Quickly, without even a moment to think, you’re split into groups. One for each agent. To your absolute joy, you’re waiting your turn to get evaluated by the only one labeled doctor. You get closer and can hear the helpless way he asks his questions. With the girls, it’s awkward like he doesn’t know how to talk to girls wearing so little. With the guys, he seems to be keeping a distance. He analyses them–for good reason–but he also seems nervous because he knows the type. He knows the difference between them. To be more precise, he knows how they treat guys like him.

You’re the last in the long line.

When you get to Spencer, you’re pleased when his eyes flick over you before he swallows.

“Hey,” he starts with a tight grin, “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” You tell him your name. He smiles that same awkward smile.

“Uh, right, so… the guy we’re looking for is socially skilled, arrogant, easily aggravated, and will most likely be bold with the way he talks to women, becoming hostile when turned down.”

It’s not in the least appropriate but, in-between gawking at him, you laugh. “Unfortunately, that sounds like every guy out here.”

His perfect brown eyebrows pull together. “Really?”

You nod. Now, up close, your eyes trace his figure, taking in the grey shirt, blue tie and the gun on his hip. It’s weirdly attractive. You wonder when you started being attracted to authority.

“I guess guys around here aren’t gentlemen,” you shrug.

“And girls actually date them?”

Something about the shock in his eyes and the scowl on his lips makes you swoon. “Guess so.”

“What about–uh–harassment? Is there any of that?” Spencer looks down at you.

Shrugging, you sigh, “sometimes. Usually just frat boys. Nothing extreme. Sometimes the gross ones might try too hard. We’ve all been there.”

His lips part and he nods at your answer. Surprisingly, those pretty brown eyes trickle down your body, mapping out each and every curve with a purpose, as if to memorize. The idea of him locking you away only to take back out when he’s alone turns you on more than you’d care to admit. It’s flattering to think you’re that interesting.

It could also be wishful thinking.

But that could be tested.

More specifically, that could be tested by one sentence. That sentence being, “do you want to go to my car? It’s cooler in there. You know?”

After what could only ever be described as a brain short-circuit, Spencer clears his throat and hums a squeaky, “yeah.”

A delighted smile forms on your face as you nod, taking a few steps back to your Jeep. You unlock it, opening the door and leaning over to put the key in the ignition. Spencer’s eyes fall on your ass in the tight, red fabric. You hear him clear his throat behind you before you straighten up. But he’s much closer to you than anticipated.

Chest-to-chest, you look up at him, eyes wide and cheeks burning hot not because of the sun. A rough swallow and then a quick glance to your breasts proves that maybe the attraction isn’t unrequited. He wets his lips and you’re sure you can’t hold back.

Inappropriately, sloppily, and with force, your lips crash together. You hold yourself up only with your hands on the back of his head. And it’s not like you expected any less with lips like his, but he’s an amazing kisser. It’s messy, sure, but it’s hot, your teeth clumsily clacking together every time your mouths open. Only, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying it as much as he wants to be.

“This isn’t–” he huffs into your mouth, hands finding your shoulders. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Although you know it’s true–he’s supposed to be questioning you not sticking his tongue down your throat–you really don’t care. “Why not?”

“I–I’m not here to–” He takes a frustrated breath. “I’m not here for this… reason.”

You almost wish he wasn’t so perfect but it kind of made it better. When your lips press against his this time, he moans and you’re right back where you started. You think he doesn’t really want to say no. He just knows he should.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and doe-like. Like a little girl capable of begging for a lollipop, you frown. “Please?”

A rough gulp. An exhale. A nod.

Lips reconnect and you’re soon enough in the front seat, on his lap, fingers curling in his gelled hair and cheeks bright red. The door haphazardly shut, you hold onto the handle for balance. Your hips start moving in circles as his tongue dives into your mouth. The prettiest whine falls from him as his hands finally move to your bare waist. One of those hands drift down to the string of your bottoms.

He breaks the kiss and his sickeningly deer-like eyes find yours. “C–Can I?” Spencer mutters carefully. His eyes shine, sparkles of lust floating over the hazel.

“Yeah,” you breathe shakily. Bobbing your head, you lean back as little as you can while still giving him room. But, what you weren’t expecting was him not taking off the fabric. Instead of untying the string and letting it fall down to show off your already wet center, he slides the inadequate polyester to the side, revealing your core.

The way his steady–but honestly heavy–breathing hitches and turns whiny makes you clench. Like handling the finest porcelain, his index and middle finger drag between your folds before reaching a settlement on your ready clit.

A long, pleased sigh leaves you as your hips resume their messy pattern of rocking. He can’t choose between watching you slide across his fingers or your lips part in ecstasy. The feeling of him touching you is heaven but you want something else. At this very moment, you’d crawl, bare, to the ends of the earth for him to please you the way you want.

Oddly steady fingers find his belt. The clanging it makes flips your stomach. You pull his pants down just enough to reach into his purple boxers. A whimper slips out of his mouth as you take him out.

He’s big, pale and pink at the tip. Thin but the perfect length, however. His nails dig into your waist.

You press your forehead against his and slide your hand up and down his length. “I don’t have–uh–any condoms in here but I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

Spencer’s lips part, an uneven whimper leaving them. “I’m clean, too.”

You release him and position yourself. The tip of his cock brushes through you before you set him at your entrance. His grip on your waist never lets up as you start to lower.

An embarrassingly loud moan slips out of you. You take him to the hilt. Inch by inch until he’s reaching so deep you can’t think. To hide how disgustingly far you’re being stretched, your mouth meets his messily. He takes in your bottom lip and devours it. It’s when you can’t stop yourself that you pull back and put your heads together.

You lift yourself up until only the last inch of him is still inside. You’re sure you’ll have perfect indents left on your skin from his fingernails. You slam your hips back down quicker than you should.

His panicked voice rings high-pitched in the hot car, “i–it’s been a while, I might not last–”

Part of you is glad because you know you won’t either. “That’s okay. That’s–that’s really okay,” you pant.

You revel in the way he whimpers with each movement of your hips. You revel in how pink his cheeks are and the way his eyes can’t stay off your chest no matter how hard they try. You revel even more in how wide they go when you pull the string of your top and let it fall. One of his hands you take, bringing it up. He rolls the sensitive flesh between his fingers as you start a rhythm.

You’re unrelenting, body moving quick because you can’t get enough of how good it feels to have him so deep. It’s bad for you to be feeling him twitch inside you. It makes you lightheaded.

Spencer’s neediness comes in the form of him thrusting up to meet you every time. With one rough thrust, his cock hits your innermost point forcefully and you whine, bringing his lips back to yours. Tongues sloppily collide with no grace. Moans are exchanged while you roll your hips back and forth. In a momentary rush of confidence, his hands move to your hips.

And then your ass.

He’s uncertain why he would do such a thing because now he’s fighting back his orgasm, his length throbbing against your cervix.

Luckily, you’re in the same place. Your walls flutter each time he brushes your sweet spot. Each time he mutters an expletive.

It seems he’s the one to break first, however.

“I don’t think I can–”

You mumble breathlessly, “me, neither, it’s okay.”

Sweat runs down your chest as you pant out desperate moans with each intake of needed oxygen. That knot builds in your gut–a feeling that’s rarely due to a man. You suppose he’s a separate being than the regular assholes around. When his fingers find your clit again, you’re sure. Spencer’s whimpering turns into heavy exhales and you take that as your cue to swiftly tell him not to pull out.

Droopy eyes meet his before you firmly mutter, “inside.”

He sighs shakily and nods.

A few more times of his cock hitting your cervix has both of your orgasms hurtling towards you. Your forehead falls onto his shoulder. His hips slam into yours and you’re coming instantly. Your walls clench around him, triggering his own release effortlessly. His cum drips down your thighs, creating a sure mess.

Words–swears–that make no sense fall from your swollen and parted lips.

“Oh, my God,” Spencer whispers–mostly to himself.

Eyes blown wide and legs cramping, you concur with a soft, “yeah.”

Hesitantly and with great despair, he mutters, “I should really get back to my team…” What follows is a guilty gulp.

You nod and maneuver yourself off of him. You ignore the irritating sensation of the emptiness after being so full. The only thing wrong is that, in moving, you accidentally honk the horn with your ass. Twice.

Half mortified and half amused, you giggle. Your cheeks flush red.

You believe it’s appropriate to assume that his team definitely knows what–or rather who–he spent his paid time doing.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x self insert

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pucksandpower · 5 months ago

Text

Don’t Let Go

Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader

Summary: five times, spanning nearly three decades, that you and Charles held hands (a little treat for Valentine’s Day from me to you)

Warnings: mentions of Jules Bianchi’s death and depictions of labor

Based on this request

The Mediterranean sun bathes everything in warmth, and the beach is alive with laughter and the salty scent of the sea. Families dot the sand, umbrellas casting colorful spots of shade, and kids run along the shoreline, kicking up sprays of water that glint in the sunlight. You and Charles stand together, eyes wide with the thrill of the world around you, hands clasped tightly.

“Don’t let go, okay?” He says, giving your hand a little squeeze. His face is solemn, as if this is the most serious promise he’s ever made.

You nod with all the gravity a four-year-old can muster. “I won’t.”

And then his face breaks into a grin, eyes bright with excitement. “Look! Over there!” He points, and you both tilt your heads up to see a man spinning cotton candy onto a cone, a swirl of pastel pink and blue that looks like a cloud.

“Can we get some?” You ask, voice small and hopeful, like the entire day depends on this one piece of fluffy sugar.

Charles looks at you, then at the cotton candy man, then back at you. He lowers his voice, like he’s plotting something daring. “We’ll ask Maman, but … maybe we could sneak away?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, we’re not allowed.”

“Oh, fine,” he says with an exaggerated sigh, as if being five years old and following rules is already exhausting. “But if we did, you’d have to hold my hand the whole time.”

“I’m already holding your hand,” you remind him, swinging his arm a little.

He laughs, and then your parents call out, reminding you both to stay close, to not let go of each other.

“We’re not letting go!” Charles calls back, his hand still firmly in yours.

Together, you walk with your families through the crowded boardwalk, weaving around beach bags and coolers, dodging groups of older kids with towels slung over their shoulders. But then, in one sudden, disorienting moment, everything changes. A group of teenagers pushes through, their laughter loud and jarring, and somehow, in the confusion, Charles’ hand slips from yours.

He realizes it just a split second too late, his fingers grasping at air. He turns, panicked, eyes wide. “Y/N?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and in the noise of the crowd, it’s swallowed up.

You’re gone.

Charles stands there, frozen, heart pounding. He looks around frantically, calling your name again, louder this time. “Y/N!”

He sees nothing, only the sea of legs and sunburned shoulders and wide-brimmed hats. His heart races, and his chest feels tight. He can’t lose you — not like this. He bolts back to where your parents are, his voice high-pitched and breathless.

“Maman! Y/N … she … she’s gone!”

The look on his mother’s face goes from confusion to alarm in an instant. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“We were holding hands, but … but then-” He’s trying to explain, but the words feel sticky in his mouth, and he can barely get them out. “She’s gone! She’s not here!”

Your mother’s face pales as she clutches Charles’ arm, her eyes darting around. “Where did you last see her?”

“There!” He points back toward the spot by the cotton candy vendor, but it’s as if the place has transformed in the few seconds you’ve been gone. Nothing looks the same. Every face, every family, every child blends together into a blur.

The panic spreads, rippling through the small group of adults as they start scanning the crowd, calling your name with voices that tremble.

Charles stands rooted, clutching at his mother’s hand. It’s all his fault. He let go. He was supposed to keep you safe. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, feeling tears start to sting at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to …”

Your father places a hand on Charles’ shoulder, his voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Stay with your mother, Charles. We’re going to find her, okay?”

But even as the adults scatter, scanning the faces in the crowd, calling your name with increasing desperation, Charles can’t just stand there. He looks up at his mother, his voice tiny. “I want to help.”

“Charles-”

“I have to help,” he insists, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Please. I promised I wouldn’t let go.”

There’s a pause, then a nod. His mother’s grip tightens on his shoulder, as if grounding him. “Stay close, mon chéri. We’ll find her.”

Together, they start moving through the crowd, calling your name. Charles’ voice cracks each time he says it, and with every passing minute, his chest feels heavier. He keeps glancing around, hoping to see your face, to see you waving back at him with that little smile. But all he sees are strangers.

The minutes stretch, dragging into what feels like hours. He begins to wonder if maybe you’re lost forever, that maybe this is his punishment for letting go, for letting his fingers slip from yours.

And then, in the distance, he catches sight of a cluster of people gathered near a lifeguard stand. His heart skips a beat. He grabs his mother’s hand, tugging her in that direction. “There! I think … I think I see her!”

They make their way through the crowd, weaving between the umbrellas and beach chairs. As they get closer, Charles’ heart beats faster, and he barely dares to breathe. And then, finally, he sees you.

You’re sitting on the edge of a bench, a scrape on your knee, a police officer crouched in front of you with a first-aid kit. Your eyes are red, and you look so small, clutching the edge of the bench like it’s your lifeline.

“Y/N!” Charles shouts, breaking into a run.

You look up, and the relief that washes over your face makes his heart soar. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s running up to you, arms wrapping around you tightly. “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”

You sniff, burying your face in his shoulder, and for a moment, the two of you just cling to each other, letting the world fall away.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, though your voice wobbles a little.

Charles pulls back just enough to look at your scraped knee, his face scrunched up in worry. “Does it hurt?”

You nod, biting your lip. “A little.”

“I shouldn’t have let go,” he says, voice choked with guilt. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

You reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But he shakes his head, and there’s a fierce determination in his eyes. “I’m never letting go again,” he says, as if the promise itself is enough to keep you safe.

The adults gather around, relieved but still shaken, fussing over you and asking if you’re alright. But for Charles, none of that matters. All he cares about is that you’re here, safe, with his hand in yours.

And this time, he’s never letting go.

***

The sky is a steely gray, heavy with clouds that seem to press down on the earth. There’s a chill in the air, one that makes the hairs on your arms stand up as you stand at the back of the chapel, your hand locked in Charles’. His grip is firm, steady, and you cling to it like it’s the only thing tethering you to the ground.

There’s a silence that fills the chapel, a thick, suffocating silence punctuated only by soft sobs and the occasional clearing of a throat. People fill the pews, faces somber, eyes red-rimmed. Friends, family, teammates — people who loved Jules, people who are hurting. But none of it quite feels real. Like you’re stuck in some strange dream that you can’t wake up from.

Charles squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that’s meant to be soothing. He leans in close, voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the casket at the front of the room, draped with flowers, a picture of Jules propped up beside it. “No,” you murmur. “I don’t … I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

Charles’ hand tightens around yours. “Me neither.”

The words hang between you, a shared understanding, a grief that you both carry but can’t seem to put into words. You look up at him, at the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes are fixed forward, like he’s afraid to let his emotions show. And yet his hand never leaves yours.

The service begins, a series of voices taking turns, sharing memories, stories that make people laugh, others that draw out quiet tears. You sit through it all, barely moving, your hand clenched in Charles’ so tightly that your fingers start to go numb. But you don’t let go. You can’t let go. Not now.

When it’s time for your parents to speak, you feel yourself tense, fighting back the tears that have been threatening to spill over all morning. Your mother’s voice cracks as she starts, her words halting, her grief so raw it’s like a wound ripped open. You stare down at your lap, feeling the weight of it all press down on your chest.

Charles leans over, voice low and soothing. “If you want to leave, just say the word, alright?”

You shake your head, blinking back tears. “No … I want to stay. I need to stay.”

He nods, pulling you closer, and you feel his arm around your shoulders, warm and steady. “Okay. I’m right here.”

The room blurs, faces and voices blending together. Your mind drifts, memories of Jules flashing through your mind, moments you thought you’d have forever but now feel so achingly out of reach. His laugh, the way he used to ruffle your hair, the way he’d tease you and then instantly apologize whenever he saw you starting to get annoyed. The last time you saw him, hugging him goodbye before he left for his race, the way he promised to bring you back a souvenir from Japan. And now he’s gone, and it feels impossible to wrap your head around.

You glance at Charles, who’s staring ahead, his expression stoic but his eyes filled with pain. He’s hurting, too. You know how close he was with Jules, how much he looked up to his godfather. And somehow, even in his own grief, he’s here, holding you up.

When the service ends, everyone slowly files out of the chapel, moving in a quiet procession to the gravesite. Charles doesn’t let go of your hand, guiding you through the crowd with a quiet determination, shielding you from the sympathetic looks and soft murmurs of condolences.

As you stand by the gravesite, surrounded by people but feeling more alone than ever, Charles keeps you grounded. You barely hear the words the priest is saying, barely register the people around you. All you can focus on is Charles’ hand in yours, his steady presence, the way he keeps glancing over at you, checking to make sure you’re okay.

And then, the moment comes. Charles takes a deep breath, his hand slipping from yours for the first time since you arrived at the chapel. He gives you a look, one that’s filled with so much understanding and pain and strength that it nearly breaks you all over again.

“I have to go,” he says softly, his voice choked.

You nod, even though you don’t want him to leave. “I know.”

He hesitates, looking at you like he wants to say something more, but the words seem to catch in his throat. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers. “I promise.”

And then he’s gone, moving to join the other men, their faces grim as they prepare to carry the casket. You watch as they lift it, your heart twisting with every step they take, each one a reminder of the finality of it all. It’s real now, in a way that it wasn’t before.

Jules is really gone.

You stand there, watching as they carry him to his final resting place, feeling like your heart is breaking into a million pieces. Tears blur your vision, and you quickly wipe them away, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no hiding from the pain.

When they lower the casket into the ground, you feel a fresh wave of grief wash over you. It’s like losing him all over again, like the wound has been ripped open and there’s no way to stop the bleeding. You cover your mouth, a sob escaping despite your best efforts.

And then, suddenly, Charles is there again, slipping his hand back into yours, pulling you close. His own eyes are red, his face streaked with tears he can no longer hold back. He wraps his arm around you, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, clinging to each other, letting the grief wash over you.

You bury your face in his shoulder, letting yourself cry, letting yourself feel the full weight of it all. Charles holds you tightly, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You don’t know how long you stand like that, lost in the pain, but eventually, the crowd starts to disperse, people offering quiet words of sympathy before leaving. You barely register any of it, your focus entirely on Charles, on the way he keeps holding you, grounding you.

When it’s just the two of you left by the gravesite, Charles finally pulls back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He looks at you, his expression soft but filled with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I don’t have the right words for this.”

You shake your head, your own voice barely a whisper. “There aren’t any right words.”

He nods, swallowing hard, and then, after a moment, he takes your hand again. “Do you want to sit? Or … walk?”

“Walk, I think,” you say, your voice shaky.

He leads you away from the gravesite, his hand still holding yours, and the two of you walk in silence for a while, the weight of the day pressing down on you like a physical thing. The cemetery is quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, and you let the calmness settle over you, soothing some of the ache in your chest.

After a while, Charles speaks, his voice soft. “I miss him too, you know.”

You look up at him, surprised. “I know.”

He hesitates, looking down at his feet. “I looked up to him. He was … I don’t know. He was like a second big brother.”

You nod, understanding completely. “He was the best. He always made everything seem … possible.”

Charles smiles, a bittersweet expression that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. He did.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, letting the silence fill the space between you. And then Charles lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. I’m here. For whatever you need.”

You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at your eyes, but this time, it’s not just from grief. There’s something else there, something warmer, something that feels like hope.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He nods, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gentle, comforting way. “We’ll get through this,” he says quietly. “Together.”

And somehow, standing there with Charles, his hand in yours, you believe him.

***

The paddock buzzes with energy — the sound of engines mixing with the hum of reporters and the fast-paced clatter of team members shuffling between garages. The air is thick with the scent of fuel, rubber, and anticipation. But for all the excitement and all the people around, Charles only seems to have eyes for you.

He’s been gripping your hand tightly since you both walked through the gates, his eyes flicking nervously over every inch of the bustling scene as if he’s trying to take it all in at once.

“You okay?” You ask, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quickly, but his voice betrays him, a touch higher than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “Charles …”

“What? I am,” he insists, flashing you a grin that’s a little too bright, a little too quick. “I mean … you’re okay, right?” His tone shifts, softer, more concerned. “I know how you get sometimes with all the noise and people.”

You almost laugh but hold back, letting him keep up the charade. “I’m fine.”

He glances around, still keeping a firm grip on your hand as he leads you down the paddock walk. “I just don’t want you to be … I don’t know, uncomfortable or something. This place is … chaotic.”

You glance at him, taking in the way his jaw is clenched, his brows drawn together. “I think I’ll manage,” you say, your tone soft, teasing. “If anything, I think you might be the one who’s a little uncomfortable.”

His head jerks up, and he looks at you with wide eyes, feigning innocence. “Me? Uncomfortable? No, not at all.”

You smile, brushing a thumb over the back of his hand. “Good to know, because I’d hate for you to be nervous or anything.”

He clears his throat, casting a quick glance around as if looking for a way to escape the conversation. “Well, I’m not,” he says, his voice firm, though he still refuses to let go of your hand. “I’m just … making sure you’re okay.”

“Of course you are,” you say, unable to hold back your grin.

He leads you toward his team’s hospitality suite, and you can see the Alfa Romeo logo emblazoned on the side. He hesitates at the door, glancing at you as if he’s not sure if he should go in or not.

“I’ll be right here,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand again.

He nods, but instead of letting go, he steps closer, looking down at you with that soft, serious expression that makes your heart skip a beat. “Promise you won’t go anywhere?”

You tilt your head, amused. “Where would I even go?”

“I don’t know. Just … promise.”

“Promise.”

That seems to settle him, at least a little. He takes a deep breath, nodding to himself before pushing the door open and leading you inside. The room is a hive of activity — strategists and engineers clustered around screens, mechanics talking in low voices as they discuss parts and plans.

“Charles! You made it!” A tall man with a headset and clipboard hurries over, offering him a firm handshake. “Ready for your first big day?”

Charles nods, but his hand tightens around yours again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man’s eyes flicker to you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ah, and who do we have here?”

Charles glances at you, then back at the man, standing a little straighter. “This is Y/N,” he says, his voice filled with a quiet pride. “She’s … she’s here with me.”

“Ah, got it,” the man says, giving you a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Quite a day to be here, huh?”

You nod, giving a small smile. “It’s definitely … exciting.”

Charles looks at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, she’s a bit nervous, so … I thought it’d be good if she could stick around.”

You bite back a smile, deciding not to correct him. If he wants to pretend that you’re the one with nerves jangling out of control, you’ll let him. “You’re very thoughtful, Charles.”

He grins, looking relieved, as if your words have eased some hidden weight off his shoulders. “Well, someone’s got to keep you calm, right?”

The team member chuckles, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You’re in good hands, then.”

As the man walks away, Charles pulls you closer, lowering his voice. “See? I told you I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand, letting him believe his little fiction for now. He needs this, you can tell — needs you here, needs the quiet reassurance of your presence.

He leads you through the paddock, his grip on your hand never faltering. Every so often, he pauses to introduce you to someone, his voice filled with a quiet pride each time he says, “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

You smile and nod, feeling the warmth in his words, the way he seems to draw strength from saying them out loud. Each introduction, each little moment, seems to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

Eventually, you make your way to the garage, where his car is waiting, sleek and gleaming under the bright lights. Charles stops in his tracks, his gaze fixed on the car, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and nerves.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You look up at him, watching the way his expression shifts, the excitement and fear flickering across his face. “You okay?”

He nods slowly, not taking his eyes off the car. “Yeah … yeah, I am.”

For a moment, he seems lost in thought, his hand loosening in yours as he stares at the car. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, he turns to you, his expression softening. “Can you stay right here? I just … need to check something real quick.”

“Of course,” you say, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

He steps forward, reaching out to touch the car, his fingers brushing over the cool metal. You watch as he takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling, and you can almost feel the weight of his emotions — this dream he’s been chasing for so long, finally within reach.

After a few minutes, he turns back to you, his face a little calmer, a little more settled. He walks over, taking your hand again without a word, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For being here. For … everything.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Always.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“You’d be fine, Charles,” you say, nudging him playfully. “But I’m glad you want me here.”

He chuckles, his fingers threading through yours. “I’d probably be a wreck without you.”

You both stand there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around you. And then, suddenly, one of his engineers approaches, clipboard in hand, looking a little flustered.

“Charles, we need you in the strategy meeting. Now.”

Charles tenses, his grip on your hand tightening. “Right … okay.”

The engineer hesitates, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s … it’s a closed meeting. I’m sorry, but your guest can’t come in.”

Charles’ face falls, a slight pout forming as he looks down at you, his expression almost pleading. “But … she’s with me.”

The team member shifts uncomfortably. “I understand, but it’s policy. Only team members and essential personnel.”

Charles’ pout deepens, his eyes fixed on the man. “But she’s … she’s my good luck charm. And besides, she’s nervous.”

You stifle a laugh, watching as Charles’ pout turns into a full-fledged puppy-dog look. It’s so endearing, and clearly, the team member is wavering.

“Please?” Charles says, his voice soft, almost childlike. “Just this once?”

The team member sighs, glancing between you and Charles before finally relenting. “Fine. But she has to sign a confidentiality agreement. A dozen of them, actually.”

Charles’ face lights up, and he turns to you, grinning. “See? You get to come with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, if I’m signing my life away…”

He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Thank you.”

Together, you follow the team member into the conference room, where a stack of paperwork awaits. Charles never lets go of your hand, even as you pick up the pen, signing each NDA with his fingers intertwined with yours.

As you finish the last signature, Charles looks at you, his eyes filled with a quiet, grateful warmth. “Now we’re ready,” he says softly, his voice steady, sure.

And as you walk into the meeting room together, hand in hand, you know that, no matter what happens out on the track, you’ll be by his side — just as you’ve always been.

***

The lights pulse in dizzying shades of blue and red, the music thrumming deep enough to shake the walls of the crowded club. The place is packed — friends, family, team members, strangers all shoulder to shoulder, all there for one reason: to celebrate Charles’ win at the Monaco Grand Prix. His first home victory. The energy is electric, and the night feels like a dream he’s been waiting his whole life to have.

Charles is beside you, his arm draped heavily around your shoulders, his hand gripping yours like he’ll lose himself if he lets go. His eyes are bright, and his laughter fills the air as he turns to you for the hundredth time tonight.

“Can you believe it?” He shouts over the music, eyes wide, dazed with disbelief and the effects of far too many celebratory drinks. “We did it! I did it!”

“You did, Charles!” You say, grinning up at him, matching his energy. “You won Monaco. Your home race!”

He lets out a roar of joy, pulling you close, swaying unsteadily as he laughs. “Home race!” He echoes, like he’s trying to savor the words, rolling them over his tongue. “Did you see it, though? Did you see it happen?”

“I saw it,” you assure him, laughing. “I think everyone saw it!”

He laughs, a sound so bright it’s almost childlike, and then he leans close, lowering his voice like he’s about to share a secret with you. “I really thought I’d never get it, you know? It’s Monaco. It’s just … Monaco.”

You squeeze his hand. “You deserved this one. More than anyone else.”

He tilts his head, considering your words, his gaze unfocused but sincere. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you say, your voice strong enough to cut through the noise, and he nods, satisfied, the smile on his face softer now, less manic.

But then someone calls his name from across the room, and Charles is yanked back into the whirlwind. He lifts his drink — something fizzy and definitely too strong — and waves it around with a cheer. The crowd erupts in applause, chanting his name like he’s royalty.

“Charles! Charles! Charles!”

He takes a deep gulp of his drink, wincing as he swallows, then laughs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe any of this is real. “All these people …” he mutters, glancing at you with a slightly drunken smile. “Do they even know me? Really?”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “I think they know you well enough to celebrate. Besides,” you tease, “I’m here. That should be enough, right?”

“More than enough,” he says, his gaze fixed on you, intense even in his inebriated state. “You’re … you’re the reason I’m even here.”

You laugh, brushing it off, but he shakes his head, suddenly serious.

“No, really.” His words are slurred but sincere. “You — remember all those times I thought I’d never make it? You were there. And now look at us. Monaco! My Monaco.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words, the affection that cuts through the chaos of the club. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grins, his face lighting up like he’s just won all over again. “Say that again.”

“I’m so proud of you, Charles.”

He beams, then tugs you closer, spinning you in a clumsy half-circle that nearly sends both of you toppling over. “You’re coming with me, always. Even if I’m-” He fumbles for words, laughing. “Even if I’m old and can’t drive anymore. You’re coming with me.”

“Wherever you go,” you say softly, humoring him as he wobbles, leaning his full weight against you.

“Wherever I go,” he repeats, nodding as if this is the most important promise he’s ever made. He glances down at your joined hands, lifting them for a moment as if to check they’re still there. Then, just as quickly, he clutches them to his chest. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?”

“You’ve told me,” you say, laughing. “Probably about fifty times tonight.”

“Then fifty-one,” he declares, raising your hand like he’s holding a trophy. “You’re my good luck charm!”

“Okay, Charles,” you say, glancing around at the curious looks people are starting to give you. “Maybe a little less shouting?”

He scoffs, his face scrunching up in indignation. “Shouting? I’m not shouting!” Then he laughs at himself, realizing he’s practically yelling.

You shake your head, laughing as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “But really,” he murmurs, his voice dropping. “Thank you for everything. I wouldn’t have done any of this without you.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your throat tighten, emotions welling up. But before you can respond, someone else is clapping him on the back, dragging him back into the raucous celebration. He goes willingly, laughing as he lifts his drink again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand — not for a second.

People congratulate him, hug him, raise their glasses in his honor, and through it all, he keeps glancing over at you, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re still there, that this night, this victory, isn’t a dream he’ll wake up from.

“Charles!” An old friend shouts, clinking his glass against Charles’. “How’s it feel to finally win your home race?”

Charles laughs, tipping his head back. “Feels amazing! Like … like nothing else!”

Another friend chimes in, “And you’ve got the best date to celebrate with, huh?” He winks at you, raising his glass.

Charles nods, his grin widening as he wraps an arm around you, his hand still holding yours. “The very best,” he says proudly, his words a little slurred. “Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you just smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m lucky to be here with you.”

He laughs, leaning in so close that his forehead brushes yours. “Not as lucky as me.”

And then, in one swift, impulsive move, he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. It’s sweet and almost innocent, and despite the noisy club, it feels like a quiet, private moment just between the two of you.

He looks at you, eyes soft, the drunken haze giving his expression a kind of unguarded warmth. “Promise me something?”

You nod. “Anything.”

“Promise you’ll be with me next year, too. For the next Monaco. And the next … and the one after that.”

You laugh, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “That’s all I need. Just you … and Monaco.”

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around him to keep him steady. “And maybe a bit of sleep.”

He groans, shaking his head. “Sleep? No, no … we have to … keep celebrating! I mean, it’s Monaco!”

But despite his protests, his eyelids are starting to droop, his body leaning more heavily against you.

“Charles,” you say gently, guiding him to a quieter corner of the club. “Maybe we can take a little break?”

He mumbles something incoherent, his head resting on your shoulder, his hand still holding yours in a loose but unbreakable grip. Even in his exhaustion, he refuses to let go, as if the victory, the night, everything will disappear if he loosens his hold.

“Just … five minutes,” he mutters, his voice soft. “Then … more dancing.”

You smile, brushing a gentle hand over his hair. “Five minutes.”

But as he drifts off, his breathing evening out, you know he won’t be getting up for any more dancing tonight. He’s given everything — his heart, his soul, his strength — to this race, and now, finally, he’s at peace.

You sit there with him, holding his hand, listening to the muffled thrum of the music, and you realize that, in his own way, he’s won more than just a race. He’s found a sense of belonging, of fulfillment, a piece of himself he’d been chasing for so long.

And as you sit together, the noise of the club fading into the background, you feel that same sense of peace. You’re here, with him, exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

The hospital room feels impossibly small, filled with sounds of beeping monitors, the hum of the fluorescent lights, and the murmured voices of nurses and doctors. But for you, it’s all a blur — just flashes of movement and noise as you lie there, clutching Charles’ hand like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

His grip is firm, steady. He’s been by your side since the contractions started hours ago, and now, with each excruciating wave of pain, he tightens his hold, murmuring to you softly, his words meant only for you.

“Breathe,” he says quietly, as if he can breathe for you. “You’re doing amazing.”

You grit your teeth, feeling another contraction start to build, a pressure so intense it’s as if your entire body is caught in its grip. “This doesn’t … feel amazing,” you manage to say, your voice strained.

Charles chuckles softly, though you can see the tension in his eyes, the worry that’s been there since you first squeezed his hand, hours ago. “I know,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “But you are. I promise.”

You close your eyes, focusing on his words, on the warmth of his hand in yours. For a moment, it distracts you, gives you something to hold onto in the midst of the pain. But then the contraction peaks, and you’re squeezing his hand so hard you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, the pain so intense it’s blinding. “I’m so sorry … your hand-”

He just shakes his head, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I’m fine,” he says, his voice gentle. “Just focus on you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to stay,” you say, half-laughing, half-crying as the contraction finally starts to ease. “You can go … take a break or something.”

His expression softens, and he leans in close, his eyes locked on yours. “Are you kidding? You think I’d leave you now?”

You shake your head, managing a breathless laugh. “I don’t know how you’re not terrified.”

“Oh, I am,” he admits with a grin, glancing at the nurse nearby, who raises an amused eyebrow. “But you’re stronger than me. I have to keep up.”

The nurse chuckles softly, patting you on the shoulder. “You’re in the home stretch now, almost there. Just a little longer.”

“A little longer,” you echo, glancing at Charles, trying to find the strength to keep going. “Okay … I can do that.”

He nods, his hand never loosening from yours. “Of course you can. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Another contraction hits, and the pain tears through you like fire. You can feel your grip on his hand tighten again, your nails digging into his skin. “I’m sorry,” you gasp, but it’s all you can manage. The pain is blinding, all-consuming.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs, his voice calm, steady. “You hold on as tight as you need to.”

“Charles …” Your voice is choked, and you can feel tears prickling at your eyes. “This … this is …”

“I know,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “But you’re doing it. You’re so close.”

The doctor speaks softly to you, offering encouragement, but all you can focus on is the feel of Charles’ hand in yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. He’s been there through everything — every fear, every doubt — and now, here he is again, steady, unwavering.

Another contraction builds, and this time it’s different. The pressure feels like it’s reaching its breaking point, like something’s about to give. You squeeze his hand harder than ever, and he leans in, his forehead resting against yours as he murmurs, “Just a little longer. You’ve got this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his breath, the feel of his hand, and push with everything you have. The room fills with noise — your own cries, the encouraging voices around you — and then, finally, there’s a new sound. A tiny, piercing wail that cuts through everything.

You open your eyes, gasping, and see the doctor holding a small, wriggling bundle. Charles’ hand is still in yours, his face pale, his eyes wide with something like awe as he stares at the baby. “Is that …”

“That’s your son,” the nurse says, beaming as she places the little bundle in your arms.

You’re exhausted, every muscle in your body aching, but as you look down at the tiny face, your heart swells with a love so fierce it’s almost painful. You glance up at Charles, tears shining in your eyes, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Look at him,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. “Just … look.”

You nod, a tear slipping down your cheek as you cradle the baby close, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. You glance down, realizing you’re still clutching his hand in a death grip. “I think … I nearly broke your hand,” you say, laughing softly, tears blurring your vision.

Charles laughs, glancing down at your intertwined fingers, his own knuckles white from the pressure. “I’d let you do it a thousand times over,” he says softly, his voice filled with all the love and pride in the world. “For this moment … I’d happily let you.”

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