#best friends to lovers

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 6

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Don’t forget to like and rb if you’re liking the series so far! ♡

Remy’s POV

I poured some homemade almond milk over the cereal in my favorite ceramic bowl. “Bills, do you want any cereal?” That’s when the intercom rang.

“Who’s that?” Billie asked, all the way from my room.

I press the button, “Can I help you?”

“Remy! This is Rachel! Hii!”

Unbelievable. How the fuck does she know where I live?

“Uhh hi? What are you doing here?”

“I need your help with something I’m working on, is it okay if I come up? Joseph told me your address, I hope that’s okay.”

I roll my eyes and buzz her in. It’s literally 6 o’clock on a Wednesday. What is this.

I let her in when she knocked. Her stupid, pretty face annoyed me. “Rachel, it’s getting late. Why didn’t you talk to me earlier at the office?”

“Listen.” She clapped her hands together. “I want you to help me write this column. You’re friends with THE Billie Eilish, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to write next week’s column about her new album.” She smiled, really, really big. It was kinda creepy how perfect and white her teeth were.

“You want to use me to be able to talk to a celebrity for an exclusive interview?” I blinked.

“Who’s this?” Billie walked out, furrowing her brows.

“Oh my god! Hi! I’m Rachel, SO nice to meet you!” She walked past me to give Billie a hug.

Billie looked at me over her shoulder and laughed, probably knowing I was hating every minute. “Nice to meet you too, Rachel. I’ve heard so much about you!” She mouthed at me, What the hell?

I rolled my eyes and walked back to my cereal. I sat on a bar stool, watching them. She would not shut the fuck up. She’s insufferable. And Billie just ate it the fuck up. When I finished my bowl, I placed it in the sink, eying the way Rachel constantly felt the need to touch her when she spoke.

“You’re much more beautiful in person. I’m like, mesmerized!” She giggled

“Girl! Thank you, you’re so sweet. You’re gorgeous, are you kidding?” Billie blushed.

“Rachel, can’t we do this at the office?” I cut them off, leaning over the counter.

Billie looked at me, scratching her eyebrow.

“I just thought we’d get to know each other… Before starting on the column we’re gonna write together.” She smiled at Billie.

“You’re writing the column with her, Rem? That’s great!” Billie cheered.

I crossed my arms, “Ask her what it’s about-“

“It’s about successful artists that blew up overnight, and their advice for any up and coming artists.” Rachel said, proudly.

“Which artist.” I raised my brow, looking at Billie.

Billie looked at Rachel, waiting for her to answer.

“Only the coolest, most badass, talented-“

“It’s you.” I interrupted.

Billie looked at me, tilting her head. “Oh?” She let out a small laugh. “Well… then you guys better get to work!”

⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

Throughout the next few days, Rachel spent most of her time in my apartment. It was my very own personal hell.

Of course, Billie joined us each time, wanting to be in on everything we did. Rachel was loving every bit of it, I could tell.

“Remy, is your section ready?” Rachel interrupted my train of thought. She laid on her stomach on the floor, kicking her feet in the air. Billie sat up next to her, probably feeding her ego.

“Yeah, I just have to edit a few things.” I typed away on my laptop from the couch.

Occasionally, I’d look up from my screen, only to see Billie’s gaze stuck directly on Rachel’s body. Her icy eyes stared into her soul while she talked, pissing me off to the max. Who would’ve known she’d steal my job, and my best friend.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great.” Rachel’s smiled at me, shutting her computer down.

“You wanna join us for dinner tonight, Rach?” Billie asked.

Rach? Really? She had a nickname now?

I looked over at Billie, not at all happy with her proposal. The look of disdain on my face had to be evident enough for her to notice.

“Oh, no, I’d hate to intrude on y’all’s plans.” Rachel looked at me. “I gotta head out anyway-“ Getting up from the floor, she picked up her belongings.

“No really, I insist.” Billie got up, grabbing her arm. She gave me a disapproving look, which I didn’t appreciate. There’s no way she’s eating with us. I frantically shook my head no at Billie when Rachel looked away.

“You sure?” She asked

I held up a giant X in the air with my arms.

“Yeah! My treat.” Billie ignored me.

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

At dinner, Billie sat between Rachel and I, in a round booth. They did most of the talking while I stuffed my face with pesto pasta.

“No, for real, I’ve met some rude ass famous people.” Billie lowered her voice, not wanting others at the restaurant to hear. She adjusted her sun glasses and held onto her hoodie.

“Me too! It’s sad but so many of them are too far gone.” Rachel shook her head, looking over her shoulder.

It felt like over the past few days, they shared their own little secrets. Their own little gossip session I wasn’t allowed in. Of course, I was sitting right there, but I didn’t want to be.

“Like for example…” Billie got closer to her, leaving some space between us.

I couldn’t help but feel like I was third wheeling. The way they looked at each other. The way Billie’s eyes wandered to Rachel’s lips when she talked. The way she accepted every compliment from her, even though she barely ever believes any of mine.

Out of nowhere, an obnoxious laugh startled me. Billie laughed too, but Rachel’s laugh was exceptionally loud. Billie was trying to finish her story, which wasn’t even that funny to begin with.

“She thought I was just a fan, it was super awkward!” Billie laughed. “So I just vibed with it and asked for her autograph. She was a bitch though.”

“You’re hilarious! I cannot!” Rachel’s laugh continued. It wasn’t even that funny! I sat there, straight faced, trying to get the waiter’s attention.

“The bill, please.” I quietly asked the waiter.

Billie noticed, putting a hand on my lap and mouthing

I got it.

“It’s fine, I’ll get my plate and be on my way.”

“Rem, I’m your ride home.” Billie scooted towards me.

Rachel broke out in laughter again, acting like that was even remotely funny.

“What’s funny, I’m confused.” I furrowed my brows slightly, squinting a bit.

She cleared her throat and took a sip of water, shaking her head, looking a bit embarrassed.

Billie looked at me as the waiter brought the bill. She handed him her card.

“Thank you, really, I so appreciate your invite, guys. Rem, to our column!” She held her drink up, waiting for me to clink her glass with mine.

I returned the favor, shooting down the last bit of my watered down gin and grapefruit soda. I could feel Billie watching me down my drink, leaving a hole on the side of my face.

“Ready guys?” Billie finished signing the receipt.

“Yup.” I scooted out of the booth, walking towards the exit.

Billie stayed with Rachel, allowing her to walk ahead of her. She followed behind her, through the restaurant, and opened the car door for her as the valet attendant pulled up.

The car ride was loud, and annoying. Rachel still would not shut up, and Billie was now starting to laugh at her dumb jokes.

All night, my mind overwhelmed me with hate. Whether it’s directed toward the wrong person or not, I’m still completely over it. Maybe it’s the fact that this girl has my dream job, waltzed into my home, and made herself comfortable because she thinks she can. Maybe it’s the fact she instantly got along so well with Billie, even though they’re not at all alike. Even though, Billie knows I don’t like her. After all the arguing and convincing me to quit, she invites the reason why to dinner?

“I have to admit, I hate that the column is almost finished. I loved hanging out with you.” Rachel reapplied lipstick from the front seat. “Both of you.” She looked at me through the little mirror.

Maybe I hate the way this girl throws herself at Billie. Usually, this bothered Billie. It didn’t seem to bother her as much as it did me. I mean, I could be exaggerating, I could be so heated that everything tastes sour. Logically, Rachel wasn’t at fault for getting the position. She showed up for the interview and got the job. But I wanted to hate her so much, it made me question if my heart was in the right place. Her attempts to include me and be kind made me want to pull back even more for some reason.

“You too. You’re cool, Rach. You know where to find me.” Billie smiled.

I just don’t get why Billie was being so damn friendly with her. I felt betrayed. Jealous, even. Only because of how unfair it all was. It made my stomach turn. I’d never do that to her. The slight touches, the forced laughter, the looks they shared. I swear to God if they don’t stop… If they start dating I’m going to throw up. I could imagine them kissing, ignoring me completely. There it was again. My mind going to a place it didn’t need to. I hate it, I don’t know why.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rem.” Rachel smiled, getting out of the car after giving Billie a hug. Only Billie called me that, I thought. She waved at me as she walked around, toward her building. I looked out the window, seeing the stunning sky-rise covered in glass windows next to us. I waved back.

“Oh, you’re not gonna go with her?” I said, sarcastically.

“Shut up. You gonna come up to the front?” Billie pats the seat next to her. “Ooh it’s warm.” She scrunched her nose.

“I’m good here.” I brought my knee up and hugged it.

“Dude. Get up here before I drag you out.” She lowers the music.

I rolled my eyes.

“Do I have to beg you?”

“Can you just take me home, I’m not in the mood.” I scrolled through my phone, knowing there wasn’t a damn notification to check.

“What’s up your ass, Rem.” She pulled out of the lot, driving toward my place, which apparently wasn’t too far from Rachel’s.

“Oh, you mean besides the fact that all night the two of you bonded over the dumbest shit, and she basically sat in your lap the whole time?”

“Huhhh?” She squinted. “What are you talking about? I was just being nice to your new boss?”

“My what, bro?”

“You know what I mean, I’m trying to help you! She gets to write her column about me, you get to impress her with your insane writing, and maybe your hard work isn’t all for nothing.” Billie looked at me through the rearview mirror every once in a while.

“Oh, is that what this is?” I laughed.

“Yeah, me helping you, is what this is.”

“You looking at her with fuck me eyes is supposed to help me? Thank you!”

“Rem, you’re actually implying I’d fuck your coworker?” She raised her brows, in disbelief.

“I don’t know, you keep looking at her like you’re going to kiss her or something. Like she’s not literally using me to get an interview out of you!”

“Okay, what if I was? What’s the fucking problem, then?” She turned into my building’s parking garage.

I laughed, getting defensive now. “Nothing, go right ahead, absolutely no one is stopping you.”

I could tell she stopped herself from saying something more petty. “Rem, I think she’s just trying to be nice by including you, and that’s better than coming in and making you her bitch, is it not?”

I didn’t answer. I knew she was right because I had similar thoughts, but I still wanted to hate her so badly. It was either her, or myself, I guess, instead of quitting and proving everyone right.

“Rem?” She looked at me again, through the mirror.

I stayed quiet.

“What if I was trying to fuck her?” She quietly asked, shrugging a little. “Why would you care?”

I struggled to get the right answer out. “Because!” I stuttered, “She’s my boss- no- my coworker. It’s weird.”

Billie stayed quiet for the rest of the car ride. I felt embarrassed, like I overreacted, which I knew I did. It made sense. She was trying to play nice, get me ahead, or something.

I unbuckled my seat belt, as did she. She got out of the car and climbed in the backseat with me and closed the door. She looked straight at me, not saying a word. She leaned back, resting her head on the window.

“So, you gonna apologize?” She crossed her arms. “Because you’re being mean.”

“I swear to you, I hate her with every fiber of my being. And I know I shouldn’t, but she pisses me off. This isn’t fair, Billie.”

“Was I supposed to be rude to her? And mess up your chance at being published on the column?”

I barely shook my head.

“I haven’t heard you once talk about how awesome it is that you’re co-writing a column. Who cares who it’s with. Your name is gonna be on that magazine!”

She’s right. This is what I wanted.

“You’re not happy, see?”

I looked in her eyes, trying to find out what she’s getting at.

“You’re not going to be content there. Because you want more.” She read me like a book. A book with really sticky pages that are hard to turn without skipping a few.

I shook my head, not wanting to accept it.

“Yeah, you’re just projecting. You’re trying to find someone to hate, when you’re tolerating everyone’s bullshit, just to prove something to yourself.”

“Billie, I’ve just had such a shit week. I wanted that job so badly. It was- it is my dream job. And I wanted it alone-”

She cut me off, “She’s giving you that chance. Maybe she hates Joe too and wants you to have what you deserve. You wanted me to support you? Well here you go, Remy.”

I nodded, “okay.”

Billie sighed, leaning forward towards me.

I watched her mouth open to say something, but she stopped. It felt like she did that a lot recently.

“I’ve always been this honest with you.” She played with her rings.

“I know… I need it.”

“You do. You need me.”

I looked up at her. “I need you to come inside so we can finish our show. We were rudely interrupted earlier by Rach.” I mocked her.

“Okay.” She laughed a bit, rolling her eyes playfully. “There’s my Remy.”

I got out of the car, glad that the tension thinned out. I walked towards the elevator and pressed the up button, noticing Billie was still in the car. I watched her sit there for a moment, then get out.

“You alright?” I asked, my voice echoing in the dim parking garage.

“Yeah, coming.” She finally caught up, putting her hoodie up, over the green bandana in her hair. Her voice was hesitant.

From this moment forward, I promised myself not to make it about myself. My time with Billie was limited, and I wasn’t going to waste it. Tour starts next week and I plan on making the last few days memorable.

[novelbear]

"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

lingering hugs and stares

"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."

compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend

^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."

being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)

showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)

hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side

"i'm always thinking about you."

being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at

sharing clothes

"why are you looking at me like that?"

unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around

"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."

noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?

holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go

when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"

rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?

"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."

"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."

the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there

"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."

[lokissweater]

“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.

warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.

word count: 8.7k

authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.

————————————————————————

yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.

you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.

eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.

but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.

but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.

“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”

yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.

from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.

luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.

you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).

yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.

“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”

yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“

“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”

“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”

but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.

yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.

firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.

it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.

but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.

but he couldn’t have you.

yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.

he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.

but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.

yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.

at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.

heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.

“yuta?”

his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.

“i was-”

“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”

“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”

he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.

“why aren’t you in tutoring?”

“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”

you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”

he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”

“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”

oh how he loved when you called him that.

his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”

you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.

after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.

“why are your eyes red?”

you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.

“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.

yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.

his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.

he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”

your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.

yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.

he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”

you shook your head against his chest.

“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.

“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.

he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.

yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.

“i know.”

your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”

yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”

you sniffed.

“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.

your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”

you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”

loved?

yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.

“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”

his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”

you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.

“why? what did he say?”

“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”

yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”

you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.

“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”

he stayed silent.

“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”

another sibling?

yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.

how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?

yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.

“is that how you see me?”

“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.

“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”

you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.

but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”

for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.

a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.

but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.

so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”

yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.

but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.

but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.

when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.

but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.

and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.

yuta never cried.

when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”

“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.

you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”

yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?

as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”

you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”

yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.

after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.

and to that, yuta was happy.

and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.

he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.

you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.

he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.

but neither of you seemed to care.

“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.

you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.

“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.

“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”

he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”

yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.

once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”

yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”

you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”

“which is..?”

“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”

yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…

no.

he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.

“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.

“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”

his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.

“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.

he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.

yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.

but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”

you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”

he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.

you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”

you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.

yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.

with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.

“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.

his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”

you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.

“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”

yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.

he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.

your trust.

you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.

“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.

“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”

you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”

he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”

you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.

your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.

as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.

“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”

“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”

you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.

“only if the house comes with you.”

yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…

no.

“what… you want me as a roommate?”

you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.

yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.

it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.

your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.

every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.

he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.

yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.

“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”

he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.

“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”

and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.

his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.

but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.

best friends don’t do things like this.

and he did not give a single fuck.

your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.

the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.

“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.

yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.

“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”

and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.

and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“you studying?” he asked.

yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.

his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”

that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”

“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”

yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”

“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”

yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”

“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”

“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”

his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”

“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”

his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.

“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”

yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”

his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”

yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”

his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”

“fuck no.”

“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”

“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”

“that’s not true—”

“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”

his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.

“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”

“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”

“whatever man it was high school—”

“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”

“i’m leaving.”

and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.

and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.

yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.

with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.

the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.

his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.

slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”

you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”

but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.

“what’s wrong?”

“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.

“…you mentioned that yeah—”

“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”

“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”

yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.

“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”

his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”

you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”

“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”

yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”

“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”

you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.

“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“yeah?”

“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.

you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”

you scoffed, “my little love?!”

and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.

and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.

“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”

“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”

“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”

“i—”

“is this how low you think of me?”

“no baby i don’t—”

“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”

“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”

“then why—”

yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”

he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.

“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”

“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.

he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.

yuta never cried.

“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”

he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.

“yu…”

“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”

he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”

“yuta, can you please look at me?”

“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”

you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”

he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”

“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“

your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”

you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.

“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”

he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”

“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.

“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”

“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”

you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.

“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”

yuta slightly smiled.

“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”

he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.

“who told you i didn’t love you back?”

yuta froze. “you did?”

“when?”

“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”

you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”

you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.

you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”

“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.

“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”

yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.

“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”

you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”

silence. nothing.

and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.

half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.

you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”

“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”

you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”

and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.

“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”

“please.”

and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.

“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.

he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”

and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.

things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.

sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.

you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”

yuta nodded, “there is baby.”

“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”

“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”

yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”

he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”

you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”

yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.

“because he brought you to me.”

and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—

“i love you and i love you, yuta.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Come bounce, bunny

Tags: Ino x fem!Reader, smau, (flirty) best friends to lovers, cursing, nsfw, mdni

An: i hope this one wasn’t too wholesome for your guys’ tastes. i don’t get the opportunity to portray ino very much, so this was def out of my comfort zone. i think Suguru’s up next for the best friends to lovers smau series <3 The end!

Part one. | Part two. | Part three. | Part four.

Taglist: @vorfreudevortex @wil10wthetree @pandabiene5115 @mcharris747 @damnshorty @k1xn4a @tojisdolli @gigiiiiislife @nnnyxie @dreamingoftomorrow @demiitria @nappynapnaps

[me-writes-prompts]

:-"It was you. It was always you." Friends to lovers prompts-:

By @me-writes-prompts

When they wrap their hand around your waist protectively because it's just an instinct by now>>>

Blushing when they compliment you and then your friends tease you about it and you're just shflskhsljfljs

The lingering touches that have you wanting for more, but they're just so freaking oblivious

*While introducing them* "This is my...friend." "Friend?" *gulps and looks at them* "Yeah, friend."

Those nights when you both party hard and now you have to take them back to their house and they say, no insist, that you stay.

“I know you better than anyone else.” “Do you, though?” “…Of course, I do.” BUT THEY DONT KNOW YOURE IN LOVE WITH THEM

The causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them

When they whisper in your ears things that they only want you to hear

^^"We should definitely get out of here. Don't you think so?" and you just(AHHHHH) "Y-yeah, sure. Uh huh." And they chuckle at your shyness because they know just what kind of effect they have on you.

"We could be more, you know?" "Hmmm? What do you want us to be other than friends?" "You know exactly what I want." "I need you to say it. I want to hear it." (SCREAMINGGGGG)

The inside jokes that only both of them know of and they start to randomly laugh with each other while others stare at them, like, are they crazy or what????(Crazy in love, I tell you)

When they cage you between their arms and lean and say "I know exactly what you're thinking." and you start to blush because wtf?!!!!!

Movie nights where you see a couple kissing and you just wonder when that will happen to you. But little do you know, they are already leaning in and you turn your head and they are so closeeeee.

^^"Can I-May I...kiss you?" Your breath catches in your threat and you force yourself to say something, and finally make out a small 'yes' before your lips are attached and you forget how to breathe(<33333333)

[alsofoundinpeas]

In the Blink of a Lens

Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.

(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)

Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.

Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.

She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.

It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.

It was his hand.

His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.

His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—

No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...

Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...

A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?

Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)

Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.

Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.

That's better. That feels normal.

She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—

To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.

"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."

Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.

The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…

"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.

The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.

He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.

Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.

The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?

But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.

Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.

She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...

A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...

Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.

What had gotten into her?

Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.

Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.

Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)

A minute passes before his response comes through.

Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?

Y/N: Of course I can <3

Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.

Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.

The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.

"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"

"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."

Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.

"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.

Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"

Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.

"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."

The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.

No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.

"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.

The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.

All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.

Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.

Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.

If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.

The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.

Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.

Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.

He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?

When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.

After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.

As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.

Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.

"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.

Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.

"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"

Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.

"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."

It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."

Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.

"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"

Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."

Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.

"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."

"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.

Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.

"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.

The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.

They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.

Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.

Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."

A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.

"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."

The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.

A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.

Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.

Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.

"Be still—"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—

Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.

Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.

Sent twenty-three minutes ago.

Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.

Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)

Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?

One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.

Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.

"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.

She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.

"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.

She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.

"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.

"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.

That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.

The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.

As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"Here, you've got a little..."

The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.

In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.

Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"

"Y/N."

Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.

"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.

Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I liked it."

Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.

"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."

Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.

Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.

The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.

"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."

A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.

Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.

It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.

The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.

Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"

"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.

"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."

Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."

Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.

"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"

He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.

The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.

His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.

Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.

Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.

Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.

"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."

Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.

The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.

A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.

They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.

The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.

"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.

Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"

A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.

"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"

"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"

Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.

Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.

Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.

Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.

"You're sure you want this?"

Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.

"More than anything."

The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.

Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"

Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.

Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.

"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.

Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.

"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."

Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?

Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.

Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.

"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"

Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.

"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.

Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.

"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.

If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.

"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"

Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.

"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"

A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.

“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”

Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.

Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”

Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.

He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.

The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.

And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.

His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.

Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.

Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.

“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“

Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.

Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.

“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.

“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.

“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”

Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.

“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.

“Go get it then.”

Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.

Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.

“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.

Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”

Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.

“I said I’m sorry—“

He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”

Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.

A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.

“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.

"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”

Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.

Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“

“Yes.”

Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.

Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."

There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.

With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.

Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.

Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.

Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.

He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.

"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—

The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.

Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.

He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.

Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.

After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.

"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.

Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.

"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.

Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.

Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.

"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"

As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.

Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3

[bi-dykes]

This ship dynamic remains superior

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[starsenha]

BEST FRIENDS CAN FUCK / S.J

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!jake

Genre ◊ SMUT, best friends to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), alcohol (both of them are drunk), kissing (obvi), liiitle bit of dry humping, fingering, petnames, praising, finger sucking, oral (f. receiving), kind of pwp, unprotected sex (wrap it up), lots of cursing

Word count ◊ 5,2k

Summary ◊ you were sexually frustrated and your best friend Jake offered to help you.

a/n: really thinking abt doing a pt.2, tell what you think! also not proofread hihi

Empty bottles of Soju were littered on the coffee table in front of you, making both of your mind fuzzy with alcohol. You and Jake had been best friends for years, and theses nights sprawled on the couch after a night of drinking had sort of become a tradition.

Jake sat across from you, legs stretched out, his back slouched against the armrest. His hair was a bit messy, and he had a lazy grin from the alcohol. You had both drifted from topic to topic, having effortlessly between school stress, random ass jokes and deeper subjects.

You tipped your head back against the cushions and let out a long groan, closing your eyes. "Honestly, at this point, I'm not even looking for a relationship anymore. I just want someone to hook up with. I'm so sexually frustrated it's fucking ridiculous."

There was a pause before Jake chuckled softly, his laughter low and teasing. "Tell me about it," he said, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "It’s like... one of the most basic things, right? Why is it so complicated?"

You rolled your head to the side to look at him, meeting his gaze. There was an ease between the two of you that had long since obliterated any awkwardness, but tonight felt different, like the alcohol had loosened something even deeper. “Exactly! It shouldn’t be this hard,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “I just want someone to fuck me good. Is that really too much to ask?”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into an amused smile. "So... what happened to that guy you went out with the other day? Soobin, right? You seemed pretty into him."

You huffed, your frustration bubbling over again as you grabbed the last half-empty bottle of soju, taking a long swig before answering. “Soobin’s sweet. He’s funny, and yeah, he’s super handsome. But… he didn’t make me cum. Like, not even close.”

Jake winced, a sympathetic look crossing his face. "Oof, that sucks."

“Right?” You groaned again, tossing the bottle back onto the coffee table. “Like, he was doing everything right, but it just… wasn’t happening. And I swear, I was so into him, but it’s like… Ugh!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. “I’m cursed or something. At this point, I’d settle for anyone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

He let out a low chuckle, and you looked at him, finding that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised his hand, running it through his hair as if deep in thought. “I’ve never had that problem,” he said casually, his tone light but teasing.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mix of amusement and curiosity flooding your thoughts. “Oh, really?” you shot back, tilting your head as you shifted in your seat to face him fully. “So, what? You’re telling me you’ve always been able to make every girl you’ve been with cum?”

Jake shrugged, his grin widening. "Pretty much."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something at his confidence. You'd known Jake for years, and you knew he wasn’t just talking big to impress you. He had a reputation around campus. "Wow, must be nice," you muttered sarcastically.

Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze holding yours. “Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s the guys you’ve been with.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged again, but his eyes didn’t leave yours, the playful edge in them softening into something more thoughtful. “I mean, sometimes it’s just about chemistry, you know? Maybe these guys just don’t get you. Or maybe…” He hesitated for a second, like he was considering something, before continuing. “Maybe you need someone who actually knows what they’re doing, like you said.”

You frowned, confused by the shift in his tone. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying.”

“No, I mean...” He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands before flicking back up to meet yours. “Maybe someone like… me.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. “Wait, what?”

Jake leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, the grin still playing on his lips, but there was a hint of nervousness in his posture now. “I mean… we’ve been best friends for how long? We know everything about each other. No taboos, right? And I’m just saying…” He shrugged, though there was an intensity in his gaze now that made your heart race. “If you’re looking for someone who knows what they’re doing… well, you know I do.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, the buzz of the alcohol in your system making everything feel a bit slower, a bit more surreal. You blinked at him, trying to process what he was suggesting. “Yunnie… are you saying…?”

“I’m saying,” he said, his voice soft but sure, “if you want someone to fuck you like you deserve, someone who actually knows how to make you come, then… why not me?”

You let out a snort and swatted Jake playfully on the arm. “Oh my God, Yunnie, you shouldn’t joke about that,” you giggled, feeling the warmth of the alcohol buzz in your system. “You’re clearly drunk.”

Jake laughed along with you, his laughter low and infectious. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint that always made you smile. “Yeah, I’m drunk,” he admitted, shrugging casually. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious.”

You blinked at him, still smiling, but there was a flutter in your stomach now that you couldn’t ignore. “Come on,” you said, trying to keep the tone light. “You can’t just offer to—what, fuck me—and act like that’s normal.”

His smile widened into a smug, teasing grin, and he leaned back a little, crossing his arms over his chest like he was settling in for a challenge. “Why not? You just said you wanted someone who knows what they’re doing. I do. And you know I’d be good at it.” His voice dropped an octave, turning his playful tone into something more suggestive. “And let’s be real, you’re hot as hell. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, and you laughed again, though it came out a little breathless. “Jake…”

“What?” he continued, his grin never faltering. “You think I don’t notice the way guys stare at you? You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny. But you’ve been wasting your time with these idiots who can’t even make you cum.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering even more, eyes never leaving yours. “Let me fix that for you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck. This was so far from any conversation you’d ever had with Jake, but the alcohol had loosened something between you two, making it feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all. “This is insane,” you murmured, shaking your head, but there was a note of hesitation in your voice.

Jake didn’t miss it. His grin softened into something more intense, more focused. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between your bodies. “It doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wouldn’t change anything. We’re still best friends, right? Best friends can fuck too.”

Your breath caught in your throat. His face was so close now, so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved into that confident, teasing smile. His scent—clean, familiar, and slightly tinged with the alcohol—mixed with the heady atmosphere, and you bit your lip, your mind spinning with the possibility. 

He saw the way you hesitated, the way you bit your lip, and his grin turned predatory, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind. He leaned in even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours, his voice low and teasing. “Come on, admit it,” he murmured, his tone laced with heat. “You’ve thought about it before.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. Maybe you had, in the back of your mind, wondered what it would be like to kiss Jake, to feel his hands on you. You're best friend was hot, you couldn't deny it. No one with functioning eyes could deny it. But you’d never let yourself seriously entertain the thought—until now.

The alcohol in your system was doing nothing to help you think clearly. Your lips parted slightly, and without realizing it, you leaned in just a fraction more, closing the gap between you both. “This is crazy,” you whispered again, though the protest felt weak now.

Jake’s grin softened into something more serious, his eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But maybe it’s exactly what you need.”

That did it. Your restraint snapped, and before you could second-guess yourself, you surged forward and kissed him, hard.

Jake reacted instantly, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft, warm, and they moved against yours with a practiced ease that made your head spin. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, teasing, and you opened up to him, letting him in as your hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

The kiss quickly turned heated, the soft, tentative brushes of lips becoming urgent and hungry. You shifted, climbing into his lap without breaking the kiss, your legs straddling his as you pressed your body against his. The heat between you was palpable, a slow burn that spread through your entire body as you ground your hips down against him.

Jake groaned into the kiss, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. “Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so good.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your breathing heavy, your lips swollen from the kiss. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at you, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered, though there was no conviction behind the words. Your body was already on fire, your heart racing as his hands slid up your sides, teasing the skin just under your shirt.

Jake chuckled, that smug grin still playing on his lips as he looked up at you with pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re the one who kissed me,” he teased, his voice low and gravelly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, well… shut up,” you muttered, leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands roamed your body, igniting sparks everywhere he touched.

The kiss deepened, becoming even more heated as Jake’s hands slid up under your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your back. You gasped into the kiss, your body arching into his touch, and he took the opportunity to flip you over, pressing you back into the couch cushions as he settled between your legs, his lips never leaving yours.

His weight on top of you felt solid, grounding, and you moaned softly as his hands roamed your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the heat pooling low in your stomach as he kissed you harder, his body pressing against yours in all the right ways.

“Jake,” you breathed out, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed down your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Mm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against your skin as he nipped lightly at your collarbone, his hands still exploring your body, sliding under your shirt, teasing the edge of your bra.

“This is insane,” you whispered, but there was no stopping now, and you both knew it.

Jake grinned against your skin, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Maybe,” he agreed, his voice rough and low. “But you’re loving every second of it. Like a good little girl," he murmured against the skin of your neck, his breath hot as he praised you. The term affectionate yet assertive sent a thrill through you. You arched your back, pressing closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his approval.

Jake seemed to sense your need, his hands moving with more confidence, sliding up your thighs, his fingers teasing under the hem of your skirt. “You like that, huh?” he asked, his voice a low growl in your ear. You nodded breathlessly, unable to form words as his fingers danced dangerously close to where you wanted him most.

But he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a smirk. “Say it,” he commanded softly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Fuck, yeah,” you managed, your voice shaky with desire.

“Mmm, I thought so,” he said, his fingers now slipping under the fabric, his touch bold and knowing. His confidence was intoxicating, his every move calculated to heighten your arousal.

He shifted, positioning himself between your spread legs, his hands roaming freely. “You’re so responsive,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your collarbone, nipping gently.

His hand moved higher, thumb brushing over the fabric of your underwear, his other hand cradling your face as he looked into your eyes, an intense gaze that held you captive.

You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access as he continued to explore, his movements becoming more insistent. “Please, Jake…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice stern yet teasing as he continued to stroke over the fabric, his touch precise as he applied pressure against your clit.

“Please touch me,” you pleaded, the edge in your voice betraying how close you were to losing control.

Jake chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “As you wish,” he murmured before slipping his hand beneath your underwear. His fingers found your wet cunt, and he groaned in appreciation. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you managed to gasp out, feeling him begin to move his fingers in slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing beneath him.

“That’s right,” he praised as he increased the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had you gasping. “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

he shifted, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the couch. He sat back slightly, watching you with that same intense, predatory look that made your heart race. His hand moved down between your legs again, fingers brushing over your sensitive folds, teasing you.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “All spread out, just waiting for me.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers slid along your folds, slow and deliberate. You felt exposed, completely vulnerable to him, and yet the way he was looking at you made you feel powerful at the same time.

“I can feel how much you want this,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, torturous circle once again. “So desperate for more.”

You moaned softly, your body responding to his touch instantly, your hips rolling up to meet his hand. “Yunnie… please…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Please what? You have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

You whimpered, your body aching for him. “Please… do something, anything. I need it.”

He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours but not quite touching. “Good girl,” he whispered before slipping one finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched your reaction. “So fucking tight for me,” he murmured, his voice full of praise and something darker.

You gasped, your head falling back against the cushions as he began to move his finger in and out of you, the pressure just enough to drive you wild but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. “Yun… more, please…”

He chuckled, adding another finger, stretching you in a way that made your toes curl. “Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased, his pace increasing just slightly as he watched your body writhe beneath him.

The way he was talking, the way he praised and teased you, had you on edge, your body thrumming with desire as he expertly worked his fingers inside you. His thumb found your clit again, circling it in a steady rhythm that had your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. “So wet and tight around my fingers.”

You could barely respond, the pleasure building too quickly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I want you to come for me, baby. I want to feel you fall apart. You can do that for me, mh?”

His command sent a shockwave through you, and you arched your back, your body clenching around his fingers as you teetered on the edge. He added a third finger, filling you completely, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

You cried out, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, your muscles tightening around his fingers as he continued to pump them in and out of you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure. Your vision blurred, your body trembling as you came, Jake’s fingers working you through it, his touch never relenting.

As the aftershocks rippled through your body, he slowed his movements, his fingers still inside you, gently stroking, making sure you felt every last bit of sensation before he finally withdrew them.

He looked down at you, a satisfied, smug grin on his face

. His fingers, still glistening from you, slid between your parted lips before you could even react, his dominant side shining through. “Taste yourself,” he ordered softly, his voice laced with a commanding edge that sent a jolt of electricity through your already overstimulated body.

Your lips wrapped around his fingers instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin. He watched you closely, eyes dark with desire, as you obediently sucked his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. The taste was musky, sweet, and raw, and his gaze on you made it all the more intense. He bit his bottom lip, clearly enjoying the sight of you like this, his fingers deep in your mouth. 

“That’s it,” Jake murmured, his voice rough with lust. “You’re such a good girl. You love this, don’t you?” His thumb brushed over your cheek as you nodded, your body aching for him again despite the intensity of what had just happened.

He grinned down at you, that same cocky, confident smirk that had driven you wild all night. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop. He brought his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, tasting both of you as he claimed your mouth once more. His kiss was dominant, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with something darker, more primal.

Jake’s hands moved down your body, caressing your sides, your thighs, teasing every inch of skin until his fingers slipped under your waistband again, pulling your panties down with ease. His lips twitched into a wicked grin as he settled between your thighs, spreading them open with firm, confident hands. “I need to taste you again.”

You whimpered softly at his words, already squirming beneath him, your body hypersensitive from the last orgasm. But Jake didn’t seem to care. If anything, your whininess seemed to fuel him.

Without another word, he lowered himself, his lips brushing teasingly against your inner thigh before moving closer, his breath warm and heavy against your already wet cunt. He paused for just a moment, glancing up at you with a predatory look in his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” he ordered, his voice low and authoritative. “I want to hear every sound.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you.

The first stroke of his tongue sent a shockwave through your body, and you couldn’t stop the high-pitched moan that slipped from your lips. Jake groaned in satisfaction at the sound, gripping your thighs tighter to keep you still as he dove in, his tongue swirling and flicking against your cunt with precision and expertise that left you gasping for air.

“Oh, God—yunnie…” you whimpered, your voice breathy and broken as your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the strands. He groaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.

He was relentless, his tongue alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firm, direct pressure, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked lightly, just enough to make you squirm and cry out. “Hmm, so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”

You were falling apart beneath him, your hips grinding against his face as you chased the pleasure he was giving you, but he was in complete control. His hands held you firmly, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, his mouth moving expertly over you, driving you higher and higher.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with the sensations he was giving you. And the sounds—your soft whimpers, the breathless gasps, the desperate moans—Jake couldn’t get enough of them. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire between licks. “Let me hear you. I love the way you sound.”

“Jake, please…” you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure built, your legs trembling against him. You were getting close again, too close, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips pressing a kiss to your clit before diving back in, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. “I want you to come on my tongue. I want to taste every bit of you.”

The way he said it—his voice so husky—sent you spiraling. You were whiny now, completely at his mercy, every stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Jake was relentless, his mouth never letting up as his hands dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp cry, your body tensed, and you came, hard, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs shook as Jake continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a trembling, gasping mess beneath him.

When you finally stilled, your chest heaving, Jake pulled back, his face flushed, his lips glistening with your arousal. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning at you with that same smug, satisfied look. “You taste fucking amazing,” he said, his voice low and rough as he climbed back up your body, his hands still lingering on your skin. “I could do that all night.”

You were still catching your breath, your body limp beneath him, but his words sent another wave of heat through you. He leaned down, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.

As Jake's mouth left a blazing trail up your body, the air between you charged with an almost electric tension, your need for him grew desperate. The way he had consumed you, driven you to edge after edge, had left you breathless, yet craving something more, something deeper. Lying beneath him, your body still quivering with aftershocks, you found your voice, a whisper filled with raw need. 

"yun, please," you pleaded, your eyes wide as they locked onto his, filled with an earnest desire that you knew he could never resist. "I need you inside me now."

Jake's eyes darkened further, the intensity within them spiking at your words. The sight of you, so vulnerable, so utterly open and needing him, seemed to unravel the last threads of his control. He cursed under his breath, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine. 

"Fuck," he breathed out, his hands already moving to quickly rid himself of his remaining clothes. The sound of fabric rustling was brief, and soon he was as bare as you, his desire evident, his readiness to claim you palpable in the air.

Without another word, but with a gaze that seared into you, Jake positioned himself at your entrance. His hand gripped your thigh, lifting and spreading you open to him as he lined himself up. The head of his cock teased at your wetness, making you both groan at the contact.

Then, with a thrust that left no room for doubt in his intent, he entered you fully, burying himself deep within you in one smooth, firm motion. You cried out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as he filled you completely, stretching you, completing the connection that your bodies seemed to crave.

"You're so tight, so fucking perfect," Jake growled, his voice a blend of admiration and raw lust as he began to move. His thrusts were powerful and deliberate, each one driving deep, hitting just the right spots to make your vision blur.

His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your thighs, pulling you into every thrust. "Look at you, so desperate for it," he taunted softly, his words degrading yet laced with an undeniable affection that only heightened the intensity between you. "You love this, don't you? My cock filling you up?"

"F-fuck, y-yes," you managed to stammer, the pleasure making it hard to form coherent thoughts. "Please, more, yun, please…"

"That’s it, beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his heavy breathing.

"All fucking mine," he asserted again, leaning down to capture your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that stole your breath away. His lips then trailed to your ear, where he whispered, "Cum for me. I can feel you pulse around me."

The combination of his deep, relentless thrusts and his commanding voice was too much. You felt another climax building rapidly, more intense than the last. "yunnie, I'm going to—" you gasped, unable to finish your sentence as the wave broke over you.

"Fuck, yes," Jake encouraged, feeling your walls tighten around him, sucking him in so deliciously. He wouldn't last long if you continued to clench around him like that. But he kept moving, relentless, driven by the sounds of your pleasure, by the feel of you clenching around him. "That’s it, come for me, come on my cock."

You did, spectacularly, your entire body convulsing as you clung to him, your cries filling the room. And still, he didn't stop, his thrusts never faltering, drawing out your orgasm, prolonging the bliss until you were limp and spent beneath him.

Jake finally slowed, his movements gentling as he came down from his own high, his climax evident in his strained expression and the deep, guttural sound that escaped him as he came inside you, painting your walls white. He collapsed beside you, both of you slick with sweat, breathing heavily, yet wrapped in a profound satisfaction.

Jake, still breathing heavily, let out a low chuckle, pulled out of you, and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you, a satisfied, almost cocky grin on his face. “Wow, that was... something,” he said, his voice laced with humor and exhaustion.

You laughed weakly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agreed, “something is an understatement.”

Jake smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “How are you feeling? You good?” His tone softened, the teasing edge giving way to genuine concern as he gently ran his hand along your arm.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the physicality of what just happened. “Yeah, I’m good. Exhausted, but good.”

He nodded, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin. "Hold on," he said suddenly, getting up with a slight groan, clearly as drained as you were. You watched him as he fumbled for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He grabbed it, then plopped back down beside you, draping it over both of you before pulling you close to his chest.

"Comfy now?" he asked, his voice softer, more affectionate, as his fingers absentmindedly stroked your arm, grounding you in the moment.

You nestled into him, feeling safe and warm in the cocoon of the blanket and his embrace. “Yeah, much better. You?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Completely wrecked, to be honest,” he admitted, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “But in the best way.”

You laughed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of everything, but now wrapped in a comforting warmth. “Same. I don’t think I can move for at least a week.”

Jake smirked and kissed the top of your head, his voice dipping into a teasing tone again. “Well, if that’s the price of making you come multiple times, I’d say it’s worth it.”

You snorted, nudging him with your elbow. “Stop it,” you giggled. “You’re going to give yourself a bigger ego than you already have.”

Jake grinned, unabashed. “Can you blame me? I mean…” He gestured vaguely to your still-tangled bodies, raising an eyebrow. “That was pretty fucking impressive.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you that,” you conceded. “But let’s not make it a habit of me being unable to walk after.”

His grin turned mischievous as he pulled you even closer. “No promises. But hey, maybe we should do this more often. You know, for... stress relief. Studies show it’s great for mental health,” he said with an exaggerated air of seriousness.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, really? Studies, huh?”

“Yep,” he nodded sagely, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “As your best friend, it’s my duty to make sure you’re properly… taken care of.”

You smacked him lightly on the chest, but your laughter was infectious, and he chuckled along with you. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, settling back into the warmth of his embrace.

Jake grinned down at you, his fingers still gently stroking your arm in that calming, soothing way. “Maybe,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But you like it.”

You smiled, a sense of calm washing over you as the playful banter died down into a comfortable silence. The exhaustion was starting to catch up to both of you, but there was something so peaceful about the way you fit against each other, the post-storm calm settling in.

As your eyes started to drift closed, you mumbled, “We really should do this more often.”

Jake’s voice, equally sleepy but laced with amusement, replied, “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

Then you remembered. 

It had been laundry day. 

And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no. 

It was anything but. 

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did. 

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 

You were married to Logan. 

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 

You had become Logan’s wife. 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?” 

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang. 

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod. 

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little. 

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down. 

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 

There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment. 

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 

Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 

Even when they were probably meant to be. 

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 

Like nothing had ever happened. 

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 

And then Logan found you in the library one night. 

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did. 

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 

But something in that moment was changing too. 

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 

And he was doing the same. 

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 

He was committing you to memory, too. 

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 

You fell closer to him. 

Or maybe he pulled you closer. 

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 

Then it snapped. 

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 

Then he didn’t see you for three days. 

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 

And then another moment hit. 

You didn’t close the door. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 

And you were wishing the same thing right back. 

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right. 

And she was right to tag along. 

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 

Then she saw. 

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 

And Logan followed. 

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 

So, he took a turn. 

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life. 

[mistbix]

silly best friends

[indecisivemuch]

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346

[sweetteainthesummerx]

it's nice to have a friend !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairings: jack hughes x shy!reader, jack hughes x bsf!reader, nico hischier x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: mutual pining, fluff

summary: you gain a best friend and a lover, all in one !

song: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift

word count: 3.3 k

notes: I love me a reformed bad boy! this is based on this request: here. I hope you like it!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one

"are you okay, miss?" a voice asks from behind you, and you jump.

it's a boy. he's real pretty, features the perfect balance between masculine built and delicate feminine.

you're so sure that you're fifty shades of red right now, but he smiles kindly at you.

"sorry, it's just you look really cold." he points at your hands, and the fact that your teeth are chattering.

you realize that you're still silent.

you hate that you're so painfully shy. it's especially hard after you moved from your hometown for work, where the little amount of friends had to bid you goodbye with worry.

sure, you talk to your coworkers, but it's not the same.

"I-i'm okay." you try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

jack, you find out his name is, was raised by his mother to never leave a lady in distress (you almost laugh at that). he offers you his gloves, still warm from his own hands. you thank him quietly, and he grins wide, "you're welcome, sweetheart."

the sidewalk is still covered in snow, but he walks you back to your apartment building, where the two of you find out something else you have in common: you're practically neighbours.

he lives only 4 or 5 doors down from you.

he drops you off, brushing your fingers with his own bigger ones as he tells you to come find him if you need anything at all.

as he watches you enter the safety and warmth of your own apartment, he frowns.

why would he do that? normally he wouldn't care about this kind of stuff, but you looked so cold and down.

so when you offered him that sweet, shy smile, he melts despite the cold jersey weather.

it's weird, because you're very pretty, but he doesn't have the itch to fuck you and leave you.

he wants to know why you're here, what you do, you're favourite colour.

his phone dings with the notification of some instagram model he met up with a week ago. he sighs, turning back from his own door to go meet her.

for some reason, he doesn't want to go.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

"wanna hang out?", yeah, sounds like fun, video games, you pass me a note

you bite your lip, and retract your hand once more. you want to knock, but you...

just do it! you tell yourself, and you knock quickly, wincing.

a boy who is decidedly not jack answers the door.

"uh, hi?" he's tall, with curly hair and a lanky body.

you freeze up a little.

fortunately, jack pops up from behind.

he calls your name, with excitement and surprise. it makes something warm bloom in your chest.

"I brought you guys cookies?" it comes out more like a question, "I brought you guys cookies, because you walked me home last week."

normally, luke would be teasing his older brother - and the fact he was cheesing like an idiot still - but he smells the cookies first.

to your surprise, the younger boy grabs you by the wrist to drag you into the apartment, thanking you for the baked goods.

he offers you a hug, introducing himself.

you're a bit unnerved, but he's so cute, like a little puppy that you hug him back, patting his shoulder while stifling a smile. he reminds you a bit of your own little brother.

jack pouts. no way luke got a hug before him. so he sidles up to you, tucking you under his arm.

"wanna hang out with us? we're playing video games."

you don't know much, but you do know you like how he's looking at you, all soft brown eyes and crooked smile.

so you tuck yourself into the couch.

you find out a lot about both of them: they're brothers who play for the same nhl team - impressive - they can finish a whole batch of cookies in 20 minutes, and they have lots of friends.

people start popping up into the apartment, nico, johnny and so many more large, kind boys who hug you in greeting.

you almost don't mind, especially when jack texts you from across the room.

he's watching you from the kitchen where you're speaking in choppy german to nico. he's worried, because the first time he met you, you were so shy and shaking in your boots.

you all good? I can walk you home if the boys are tiring you out

you look up, a small grin on your face as you shake your head at him.

you look so at home on his couch with his friends, that something blind and unfamiliar stirs in his stomach. he ignores an incoming text from the instagram model he met up with, in favour to watch nico explain german grammar to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew, twenty questions, we tell the truth

jack thinks you're an angel. he'd come back to the apartment after a really hard game, battered and bruised. you show up to his door like you have been for a while, sometimes when it's just the two of you, sometimes when many of the boys are there.

this time, you're holding a bag in your hands. he sighs as he opens the door, falling into your arms.

"oh-! jack, you're too heavy!" you exclaim, trying to hold his weight. he pouts, leading you to the couch. he pushes you down gently, and you let him.

he snuggles up to you, head cradled by your chest.

he waits for you to coo and fuss over him, because you're just so kind and he finds this unprecedented comfort in you.

you feel like home, despite only knowing him for a few months.

"you okay?" you ask, and he pushes his head into your hands. you smile, getting the message.

you finally scratch his head, and he practically purrs. he settles into you, full weight like a thick blanket as you push through his hair with your nails.

"there you go," you murmur, quiet and loving. he thinks you'd be a good mom someday, and his heart twists when he thinks of you with someone else, making a home.

"can you scratch my back?" he knows he's being whiny, but you brush your thumb over his cheek and nod.

you're about to slip your hand under his shirt, but he sits up, tugging it over his head and returning to you like he always seems to do these days.

he slides his arms under your back, rubbing his head to your stomach.

you flush red, something unfamiliar spiking through your blood. he's all thick, soft muscles, unlike the vanity ones you see on some guys. raw, simple strength to take the hits and deliver them in his sport.

he's so handsome.

you scratch your nails down his back and he shivers.

"cold?" you hum, but he shakes his head.

after a while, he lets you get up because your legs are numb.

"you're too heavy," you grin again, and he complains that you're calling him fat.

he's ridiculous, with his abs under soft skin and big biceps. he still hasn't put his shirt back on.

"so, what's in the bag?" he asks, and you brighten up.

you dump it out on to the couch: it's face masks, eye masks and skin care.

"I like to relax with this, so I thought maybe you would like it?" you ask shyly, "we don't have to-"

"no!" jack exclaims, throwing everything into the bag and standing, "I want to. see what the hype is about."

he's seen the cute couple pictures online with the girl doing the guy's skincare; something about you suggesting it makes his feel ten feet tall.

so that's how he ends up with you on his bathroom counter, himself between your legs as you rub shaving cream onto his face.

"you better not slice me up," he pokes your tummy, and you giggle.

"don't worry, jackpot," you use his nickname, "cant' have the fans mourning your pretty face."

you carefully shave off his stubble, eyes concentrated.

you're so close, and you smell you, and you're so careful with him he wants to kiss you and give you his heart.

you hold his hair back as he washes his face. the act is so intimate, and the whole scene is so domestic that it makes him homesick for something he's never had.

"okay, so I'll put the eye masks on you first, then the clay one."

it's actually pretty relaxing, he has to admit. the eye masks are cool, and the clay mask is a little tight, but he likes to see you smooth it onto your own face, matching his.

he takes his phone, and you slide under his arm, linking yours around his waist.

the both of you smile wide for the mirror selfie, and he makes it his lock screen.

after both of you wash the masks from you - admittedly smoother - skin, he orders a pizza, and you make your way up to the roof.

the light pollution is too bad and he knows that the stars won't be visible, but the pink-inked sky is pretty as your smile.

the two of you talk about everything and nothing: some trick he managed to pull during practice, your co-workers pending divorce, something funny his mom said.

he wishes he could stay here forever, with you.

you, with your soft hair and smile, his too-big hoodie over your shoulders as you lean on him.

he likes seeing you all sleepy and vulnerable, answering his questions quietly.

"do you want a boyfriend?" he asks as the sun goes to bed.

"of course I do," you murmur, "but I just want the right person, at the right time."

he smiles at that. he wants to be that person for you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you've been stressed out lately? yeah, me too, something gave you the nerve, to touch my hand

"oh, shit." you swear softly, and sophie, your co-worker turned best friend - don't let jack hear that - apologizes.

"sorry! sorry! don't move, bro!" she rubs where the curling iron touched the back of your neck.

"that's gonna leave a mark. I'm sorry, sweetie." she fusses, and you tell her it's okay.

luke and jack are having a party for new years at their place, so you and sophie take that chance to dress up for once.

your makeup is done, so is your hair. you have to admit, sophie's done a real good job.

"yeah, dude. we look hot."

you're wearing a pretty red dress, with thin straps and material that clung to your body.

you were unsure, but Sophie hyped you up enough for you to put it on, and you felt really confident.

except you were a little scared at how short it was.

"hey, girl!" luke exclaimed when you entered their apartment. "you look great. hey, soph!"

he handed you both a drink, scurrying off to greet someone else.

the two of you link hands, trying and laughing while bulldozing through the crowd to get to the living room.

some guy catches soph's eye, and you encourage her to go off and talk to him.

nico finds you, being pushed around by the throng of people, and tucks you under his arm like your a football.

you giggle a little as he manages to navigate the way. jack's sitting on one of the arm chairs, and his eyes brighten when he sees you.

"special delivery!" nico pats your head like he would to his little sister, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

the only thing between you is many half-drunk hockey players and drinks on the ground. nico is about to pick you up like a cat, but jack hops his way over, swatting his hands.

"I got it, precious cargo, after all." he slips one hand under your thighs, and another arm wrapped round your waist so you're pressed against his vertically.

you cling to his neck as he makes his way back to his seat, turning you in his arms to fit you onto his lap.

"you look..." he breathes into your ear, "you look gorgeous, baby."

"thanks, jack."

the night continues like normal, until between the sheer amount of people in the apartment and jack's chest pressed against you is making you over heat. as you laugh at one of johnny's jokes you sweep your hair over your shoulder to let your neck breathe.

you feel jack tense beneath you, and he lifts you to stand.

"I-i need a drink," his eyes are panicked and shaky. he bolts, and you stand to go after him. nico and Luke call after you, concerned.

you find him on the roof, leaning over the banister, shoulders shaking.

"jack, honey?" you ask, slipping a hand between his shoulder blades, "do you feel sick?"

the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, even more so when he turns to you, teeth grit.

"no, m'fine. go back to the party."

"not until you tell me-"

"why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?" he blurts out, refusing to look at you.

"huh?" you ask.

"why didn't you tell me? I thought we told each other everything."

"what are you-"

"you don't need to pretend. I know-" he shudders, like it's painful for him to say this, "I know you're..."

"jack-" you start, but he grabs your hands, new determination in his eyes as he draws you close.

"you should know that I'm in love with you. so you have options, baby." his lip is quivering, and his eyes are rimmed with red.

"I-"

"I could treat you better than he could. and I wouldn't hide it, either. we would be so good together..." he's rubbing the length of your arms now, trying to warm you up.

"we already work so well together. we're best friends and you make me laugh so much. you make me feel safe and tethered."

he continues, "and...jeez, baby, you're fucking gorgeous. I just want to press you against a wall and..." he's talking low and heavy in your ear, and you lean closer to him.

"please, just consider me. I wouldn't just leave a hickey on your neck behind your ear and not celebrate new years with you."

"what?" you asked, surprised, "no, that's not a hickey. sophie burnt my neck while curling my hair."

jack colours a brilliant shade of fire work red.

he just got all in his head, seeing you dolled up and loose, that when he saw the mouth sized mark on the smooth nape of your neck, his only thought was: that should've been me.

"fuck."

you've got a teasing smile on your face now, "you loooove me!"

"I am a dumbass."

"a dumbass who loves me." you grin, cupping his neck, smoothing circles over the skin there.

"my offer still stands," he tells you, winding his arms around your waist.

"yes. I love you too, you idiot." the people throughout the apartment building are starting to chant.

3, 2, 1, happy new years!

"happy new years, baby." he says, and he presses his lips softly, and sweetly to yours.

he's so delicate, trying to make sure everything is perfect.

and it is, because he's with you, with the promise of more forever.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

church bells ring, carry me home, rice on the ground looks like snow

"yeah, mom. I know, I've been eating good. my girl's taking care of me."

you hear jack's voice from where you're measuring rice in the pantry. he definitely thinks that the pantry doors are thicker than they are.

you smile, because he takes such good care of you too: he washes your hair in the shower, he carries and stocks your groceries, he always makes sure you're fed and warm when you're too stressed.

and he takes care of you in other ways that makes you warm and all liquidy.

"I'm gonna make her my wife, mom. she's...she's the one. yes, I'll bring her to the lake house for the summer, but I'll have to ask first. okay. bye. love you too."

by that time you've made it out of the room, closer to him. when he says wife, you drop the whole bowl of rice you were holding.

"did you hear that?" jack's ears are pink, but he's got a cheesy smile on his face.

"yeah. you have a really loud voice, honey."

"call me that again." he asks, as you come to stand between his legs as he sits on the barstool of the kitchen counter.

"loud voice," you tease.

he laughs, and when the two of you quiet down, he rests his head on your shoulder.

"I mean it, y'know."

"we've been only dating for like a month," you protest weakly.

"and I can't wait to see you walk down the aisle to me."

"will you cry?"

"no," he lies, even though he's getting a little teary just thinking about it.

"hmm." you kiss him anyways, and Luke finds you there 10 minutes later, still wrapped up together with rice all over the floor.

"you guys are weirdos." he rolls his eyes, making a face as jack kisses your lips again.

"watch it, mister. you're talking to your future sister in law." you joke, and luke jumps, reaching for your hand.

"dude, were you fucking with me?" he whines, "I got all excited too."

jack hollers something insulting his intelligence as you laugh, watching the two boys.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

feels like home, stay in bed, the whole weekend, it's nice to have a friend

jack kisses your forehead as he hands you a plate of food. you bite his cheek as he shrieks.

you laugh, sitting up so he can see his shirt that's practically falling off of your frame.

you and jack had a slow morning, the sun streaming over your naked bodies as you simply enjoyed each other's presence. around noon, he finally got up to shower.

you refused to join him because "no, the two of us showering together would not save water, it would probably waste more."

so he showered, sad and alone, and made breakfast after you went to clean yourself off.

now, watching you eat toast and watch his past game highlights from last weekend, he knows.

he knows it's going to be you, no matter what.

he knows it's you he wants to grow old with, and have three kids - two boys, one girl, he has the names all planned out - and that picket fence shit.

he knows it's you who'll take care of him with your soft hands and heart at the end of the day, and you'll be the one he'll protect and provide for too.

he knows that he loves you like the back of his hand.

and he knows you're his best friend, the love of his life.

so he knows that he wants to make you his wife.

he leans over to his bedside drawer and pulls out a box.

he got it the weekend after the two of you got together, and he's shaking as you turn to him with wide eyes.

"I love you. you're...you're it for me, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise to keep you safe and warm and always finish your plate when you're full," he knows you too well, because your left overs are already on his plate, "and I just want all of you. will you marry me?"

"yes," you breathe, tackling him into the bed with a delighted whoop.

there's no other words to describe it, it's so nice to have you.

it's so nice to have you forever, now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[veltana]

No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Come bounce, bunny

Tags: Ino x fem!Reader, smau, (flirty) best friends to lovers, suggestive behavior, cursing, slight angst in this part

An: I did not expect the Ino Nation to come through like they did for my boy 😭 i’m gonna be honest. i’m winging it with this one. also!! mei is not to be confused with mei mei!! they’re different people!

Part one. | Part two. | Part three. | Part four.

Taglist: @vorfreudevortex @wil10wthetree @pandabiene5115 @mcharris747 @damnshorty @k1xn4a @tojisdolli

[sloanegabe]

Love, Rosie (2014) and One Day (2024) parallels