#beyond like one to two sentences

[turtlespancake]

i cant believe fontaine finally cleaned up its archon quest writing and learned to Actually Proper Balance its npc screentime with its playable character screentime. and yet. AND YET!!! THIS is the nation where i end up hyperfixating on the historical figures with no official designs.

[applestorms]

i was just gonna leave this as a comment, but my response started spiraling sooooo. guess i'm makin' this a full on post lol =3=" uhh anyways, responding to @skyborneveggie's tags on this post:

#really good analysis #always here for high-functioning depression light takes #i want to add; while Light is better at reading & manipulating people in the moment he also tends to overlook some things in the long run #because of his superiority complex #like his father volunteering for the eyes in matsuda's place #and matsuda in the ending. As much as i like to think of matsuda as wholesome- #-i do think if light played his cards right he could have manipulated him over to kira's side #but he didn't because he didn't think matsuda was important in the grand scheme of things

very good points!! about matsuda in particular— it’s interesting in retrospect how consistently he’s set up as a side character, particularly with how he is almost always immediately pushed off to the side despite that. like, alongside soichiro, he’s really the first member of the JTF we see pre-lind l. tailor (in the anime, anyway. in the manga it’s a bit more ambiguous, though matsuda definitely shows up to mention KIRA bringing the crime rate down in ch.3, still quite early).

he’s always the one counterpoint within the group, playing devil's advocate in a way with how he brings up the pro-KIRA side of things, yet as you say light underestimates him So consistently that he even ends up evolving into a full on joke/shakespearean fool character by yotsuba, which is really what makes his actions in the end so incredibly significant.

i distinctly remember reading that section where aizawa & mogi are getting more deeply involved with near and, in the case of aizawa in particular, are starting to genuinely consider the possibility that light might be KIRA, and just getting sooooooo so SO goddamn suspicious of what matsuda was doing. this was in part because i already had some spoilers about the ending, specifically about matsuda shooting him, but goddamn do his actions start looking suspicious when you begin taking him seriously as a threat. like, while aizawa is starting to live through his own psychological horror novel come to life, realizing that the innocent kid & strong leader he's been taking care of & following all this time might actually have been the fucking serial murderer they've been after for literal Years, here's what matsuda is up to in the background:

(light's face here. fuckin freak LMFAO)

(this one is particularly notable to me as it shows that even aizawa underestimates him— it's not just light, it's the whole damn team. even ryuk joined in earlier.)

(and of course, my absolute favorite example. the contrast between their expressions alone here is absolutely golden all on its own, but matsuda's heartfelt "don't worry, light!! i'll never betray you!!!" in comparison to THIS only makes it all the more juicy:

like, light doesn't even bother responding to him until he's got a goddamn bullet in his hand. he just sits there confident in the expectation that matsuda will lick his soles like a dog. jesus fucking christ.)

anyways, as i was saying: he's mostly just doing a bunch of dumb shit, making silly jokes in the background, fucking around with ryuk and being written off as an idiot by most characters, especially light but again also aizawa and ryuk. AND YET. he is Always hanging around over light's shoulder, lurking somewhere behind him in almost ever panel he shows up in, perfectly innocent to the point where it's can almost be more off-putting than if he were outwardly, actively questionable. like, this panel in particular, and i mean goddamn, just look at it again:

it hits So Hard in retrospect, not just because matusda is the one to shoot light in the end, possibly being his cause of death had ryuk not stepped in when he did, but also because it's true. as incredibly fucking suspicious as this panel may seem if you are armed with the knowledge that matsuda does, eventually, end up being the one to shoot light, it's equally easy to write it off as normal dumbass matsuda behavior because that is Exactly What It Is. and you would be right!! matsuda is trusting of light to a fault— when he eventually breaks, it is Not due to his own betrayal. it's the evidence of light's. and not just of his manipulation of the task force, for years and years and years on end— it's soichiro's death specifically that finally makes matsuda lose his faith in him.

the idea that light could've manipulated matsuda over to KIRA's side had he just tried a little harder is fascinating, but i think i can also understand why he didn't exert any more effort— it was kinda unnecessary. for basically the entire story, from the moment matsuda is formally introduced, to the minute light breaks and admits he's actually KIRA, matsuda is one particularly dedicated conversation away from being a full-on KIRA supporter— or so light believes, anyway. and he's probably not that far off.

really, i'm of the opinion that it's matsuda's existence as this KIRA-sympathetic figure in the task force in the first place that causes light to believe so strongly that he could eventually convert the entire JTF over to the side of KIRA— possibly even saving all of them their lives in the process. like, as i've said before, for all that light monologues about how he's Definitely Going To Kill The Task Force, Don't Worry, I Can And Will Do It When I Have To, he. never actually does it. instead, light goes through all the trouble of keeping the JTF strung along behind him for more than half a decade following L's death, holding on to all of these strings of his former life even when they are almost undoubtedly more of a pain than they're worth. unable to kill his father, unable to kill misa, unable to kill matsuda— even when he directly tries to.

i forget which post this was on, but i believe someone pointed out before that potentially a major part of light's grief following soichiro's death comes from the fact that he springs a shock on him at the last minute before passing: soichiro never stopped suspecting his son. when he sees light's lifespan above his head his first thought is to be relieved, because the question he's held at the back of his mind for Years has finally been undoubtedly assuaged. light is desperate to believe up until the end that he can make the world truly and genuinely pro-KIRA; his final actions in the moments of clarity before he starts begging at ryuk's feet for his life involve an enthusiastic speech as he makes one final bid at converting the JTF and SPK to join him and believe in his vision of Justice.

and yet. he never quite gets mastuda.

never bothered? or never could? perhaps a bit of both, but it's a fascinating character progression nonetheless, and easily one of the most interesting arcs in the series. poor, poor mastuda, indeed.

sidenote: this is a somewhat half baked thought, but i can't help but make a somewhat minor connection between light's treatment of matsuda and his treatment of misa, as well as his relationship with takada. like, let's think through the list of his main (human) supporters throughout the series, the ones who end up taking on the title of KIRA themselves: in the first half, misa, in the second, takada & mikami. if we add matsuda to this list, we get two mirroring pairs: misa & matsuda for the front half of the series, takada & mikami for the latter.

light's treatment of each of these pairs is quite different, despite the fact that they all essentially fulfill the same purpose to him: misa & mikami act as KIRA's eyes, killing those light is unable/unwilling to himself, while takada & matsuda fill the role of KIRA's spokesperson, albeit to very different audiences. thus each half of each pair executes a different side of KIRA's ideology: misa & mikami the practical side, becoming killers themselves, and takada & matsuda the persuasive side, pointing out the positive influences KIRA's actions have had on the population to The People and the rest of the task force respectively.

it's not quite as simple as i've laid out here, of course— tadaka eventually ends up killing before she dies at light's hand herself, misa lives as light's partner until she loses her memories and never quite recovers, mikami becomes quite static, just playing at a killer for Appearances, until his actions eventually end up accidentally betraying light and leading to his downfall. yet it still seems notable to me that despite light treating takada & mikami noticeably better for the majority of the time that he's working with them, those two are the ones who eventually end up dead, betrayed and betrayer respectively. yet, in the case of misa & matsuda... for all that light degrades them and treats them like shit, those two are the ones that get to live on past him while remaining stubbornly loyal until the end, until light's own actions twist back and smack him in the head.

i think perhaps part of the reason why light never ends up converting matsuda is not just his own ego blowing Shit outta proportion and assuming that matsuda will either very easily convert/is too much of a dumb liability to even bother with, but also light's own discomfort with having followers at all. like, it really takes him that full time skip to get fully on board with the idea that people will Submit to KIRA, despite the fact that he logically must know how necessary that is. light wants the recognition and love and commitment of other people, but he doesn't necessarily want the responsibility of their own stupid actions— a sentiment perhaps reflected in how easily he kills criminals, seeing their "evil" as something to be Purged, an annoyance just as much as a liability for the happiness of the Good, Pure People of the world.

as i've outlined before, misa is the main person who's enthusiastic submission consistently gets on light's nerves and icks him the fuck out, but i can't help but wonder if this same reaction applies at least in part to his distaste of matsuda. it's easier to get away from matsuda at least, considering he doesn't have to play the Good, Heterosexual Boyfriend around him, but that doesn't mean it isn't still somewhat present either. this also gets interesting if you start considering lawlight dynamics during yotsuba as well, and L's similar (if somewhat more overt, even) dislike of matsuda during that era BUT. that'll perhaps have to wait until another essay lolol =3=

[cosmogyros]

That moment when you have to let people be wrong about you because correcting them would make you seem like an unbearable show-off

I was at a bookstore with a friend the other day and I was looking at a book in German that I was interested in buying, but then I saw that it was a translation and had originally been written in French

I commented idly to my friend "Sometimes I don't buy a book because it's a translation and I always prefer to read in the original language when possible" and she said in an agreeing-with-me way, "Yeah it would make more sense to read it in English"

and I realized she assumed I meant English when I said "original language"

but I couldn't bring myself to say "Yeah, or French or Dutch or Spanish or Italian or Portuguese or one of the other languages I read..." because like. who says that kind of thing.

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

the feeling of unstoppable joy and euphoria when a little addition you wrote into your story for shits and giggles and to deepen the world around your characters opens a new path and could possibly fix a plothole that gave you anxiety over the course of the last writing sessions.

[creature-once-removed]

.

[s-soulwriter]

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[maelancoli]

Writing Intimacy

i often see writers sharing a sentiment of struggling with writing kiss scenes which honestly bleeds into other portrayals of physical intimacy. i see it a lot in modernized styles of writing popularized by the recent trend in publishing to encourage short, choppy sentences and few adverbs, even less descriptive language. this makes intimacy come across awkward, like someone writing a script or clumsy recounting of events rather than a beautiful paragraph of human connection.

or just plane horniness. but hey, horny doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with poetic or sensual.

shallow example: they kissed desperately, tongues swirling and she moaned. it made her feel warm inside.

in depth example: she reached for the other woman slowly and with a small measure of uncertainty. the moment her fingers brushed the sharp, soft jaw of her companion, eliza's hesitance slid away. the first kiss was gentle when she finally closed the distance between them. she pressed her lips lightly to gabriella's in silent exploration. a tender question. gabriella answered by meeting her kiss with a firmer one of her own. eliza felt the woman's fingers curling into her umber hair, fingernails scraping along her scalp. everything inside eliza relaxed and the nervousness uncoiled from her gut. a warm buzz of energy sunk through her flesh down to the very core of her soul. this was right. this was always where she needed to be.

the first complaint i see regards discomfort in writing a kiss, feeling like one is intruding on the characters. the only way to get around this is to practice. anything that makes you uncomfortable in writing is something you should explore. writing is at its best when we are pushing the envelope of our own comfort zones. if it feels cringy, if it feels too intimate, too weird, too intrusive, good. do it anyway! try different styles, practice it, think about which parts of it make you balk the most and then explore that, dissect it and dive into getting comfortable with the portrayal of human connection.

of course the biggest part comes to not knowing what to say other than "they kissed" or, of course, the tried and true "their lips crashed and their tongues battled for dominance" 😐. so this is my best advice: think beyond the mouth. okay, we know their mouths are mashing. but what are their hands doing? are they touching one another's hair? are they scratching or gripping desperately at one another? are they gliding their hands along each other's body or are they wrapping their arms tightly to hold each other close? do they sigh? do they groan? do they relax? do they tense? are they comfortable with each other or giddy and uncertain? is it a relief, or is it bringing more questions? is it building tension or finally breaking it?

get descriptive with the emotions. how is it making the main character/pov holder feel? how are they carrying those emotions in their body? how do they feel the desire in their body? desire is not just felt below the belt. it's in the gut, it's in the chest, it's in the flushing of cheeks, the chills beneath the skin, the goosebumps over the surface of the flesh. everyone has different pleasure zones. a kiss might not always lead desire for overtly sexual touches. a kiss might lead to the desire for an embrace. a kiss might lead to the impulse to bite or lick at other areas. a kiss could awaken desire to be caressed or caress the neck, the shoulder, the back, the arms etc. describe that desire, show those impulses of pleasure and affection.

of course there is the tactile. what does the love interest taste like? what do they smell like? how do they kiss? rough and greedy? slow and sensual? explorative and hesitant? expertly or clumsily? how does it feel to be kissed by them? how does it feel to kiss them?

i.e. examine who these individuals are, what their motives and feelings are within that moment, who they are together, what it looks like when these two individuals come together. a kiss is not about the mouth. it's about opening the door to vulnerability and desire in one's entire body and soul.

[inkandapex]

stream madness pt. 2

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

Protect Max

Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.

It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.

"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.

"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip

"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"

"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round

"they're so sibling coded" "not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner" "she's so gonna beat Max again this round"

“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”

Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.

“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.

"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.

"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.

"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.

He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.

"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.

"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.

"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.

"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.

"lol poor max" "bet he misses P a lil extra today" "i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"

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Snitches get stiches

The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.

What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.

Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.

" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."

Then, a new message appeared.

"Ed said he let you win this morning."

Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.

"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.

"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."

The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.

"bro is cooked" "oh no she's mad" "not max snitching on lando AGAIN"

"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan." "Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled. "You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused. "Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive. "You were just playing with Max—" "—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?" "Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away." “How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.

“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.

"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play." "yeah that's right! you get him baby" "Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow" "This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.

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Taking her back

Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.

"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.

"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"

"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.

"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.

"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."

"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.

"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.

"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.

"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.

"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"

"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.

"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.

"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.

"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.

"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.

"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.

"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us" "NOOO don't leave Y/N" "LN being selfish lol" "hes neeeedy"

Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.

Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.

Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."

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Look at my girl

"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.

"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.

Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.

"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.

"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.

A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"

"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"

"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."

"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.

Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."

Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."

"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.

"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.

She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.

"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."

Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"

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Don't look at my girl

Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.

Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.

It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.

"hi Y/N" "okay hot mama!" "Y/N you look stunning babe" "can Lando fight?"

“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.

And then he saw it.

The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.

His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.

Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”

“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.

Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.

“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.

Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”

Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.

Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”

Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”

"still cant believe he was able to pull her" "Y/N leave him be with me" "she looks unreal" "lando better know how to fight"

Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.

“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.

She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.

“Pick.”

“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.

“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.

“Lan, it’s really not that—”

Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”

Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.

Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she’s looks like she's about to go to bed”

Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.

“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”

Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Rumour has it

It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?

Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.

“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.

Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.

"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here" "i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls" "stop asking ab their personal lives guys" "theyre clearly fine, look at him" "oh theyre fine lol"

Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”

Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"

Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.

“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.

"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear

Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"

Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"

Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"

Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"

Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”

Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Not so subtle

It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.

Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.

“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”

Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.

It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.

“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.

“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”

“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”

“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.

“Shut up, Connor."

Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.

“Lan, it’s been 15.”

“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.

"he's so stubborn lol" "poor y/n" "listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"

Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.

“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”

Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”

Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.

“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”

Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.

“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”

His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.

"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG" "look at his face she definitely said something" "bro is cooked lmao" "lando fumbled baaad"

Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints

"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.

Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.

“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”

Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.

"Max working extra hard tonight" "LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face" "Max being the bigger man, respect" "Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Shameless

Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.

Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.

“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.

“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.

“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.

“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”

Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”

It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.

"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.

As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”

Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”

Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.

After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”

He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.

"post sex stream is insaaane" "man was glowing, no wonder" "PR team fighting for their life after this" "Landos phone bout to blow up" "meeting being set up as we speak"

Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”

Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”

[sageshouldknowbetter]

Some may be apprehensive that Severance won’t portray Mark’s interaction with Helena in the tent as the sexual assault it was. But not only will they — they already are.

Mark’s behavior toward Helly has completely changed. He doesn’t sit next to her at Irving’s funeral. He shuts down attempts at conversation with offhand, vague snarky comments and a defiantly blank facial expression. When Helly knocks on the door to the bathroom, his eyes dart around like an animal cornered. Where he once would have slowed down for her in the hallway so they could talk, he walks much faster ahead. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid her. To ignore her. To run away.

Now contrast this with his treatment of “Helly” when she first walked out of the elevator in season two. He waited for her to arrive! He was so relieved she’d come back! And when they were walking down that hallway and he was explaining the situation with Ms. Casey, he stopped mid-stride, turned to her with a smile on his face, and said “Look, Helly—“

He never got to finish that sentence. But some say he was going to confess that though his outie had a wife, his affections lay with her. And I think they’re right.

So why is he acting so differently now? The answer is obvious: “Because they are smarter than us, okay? They know everything.”

After the assault, Mark likely feels like a complete idiot. He spent so much of season one deconstructing his beliefs and breaking free from Lumon’s propaganda. And the minute he believes he’s immune to their lies and no longer a corporate slave, he is taken advantage of and hoodwinked by the very figurehead of said company, masking as someone he loves.

A symbol of Lumon convinced him he was safe. Tricked him. Invaded him in the most intimate way possible, with him completely oblivious, “like an idiot.” Right when he thought everything might be okay.

So maybe Lumon’s right. Maybe there’s no point in fighting. Because if he was stupid enough to not realize his own friend was being possessed by her billionaire doppelgänger, then maybe Lumon is correct about innies being nothing more than pawns. Maybe they are people, and he really is… not. (That’s how Helena treated him, anyway.)

And if that’s the case, of course he wants to give up looking for Ms. Casey and lose himself in work! For a moment he thought he was a human being, deserving of autonomy over his own body and capable of something more than sitting behind a desk — but his assault sends that all crashing down. He is an extension of his outie, made for work and nothing more. Going beyond that gets dangerous. That’s what got Irving killed… and him in Helena’s tent. And Helly? He cannot trust Helly. As far as he knows, his only confirmed moment with Helly since the OTC was when he was holding her in his arms, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Why should it be Helly coming back to the severed floor? If Helena could trick him before, who says she can’t learn from her past mistakes and trick him again over and over? Mark refuses to be humiliated and hurt after last time, so he avoids her (and Dylan!) and puts up a barrier of cool, snarky indifference — just like how he deals with grief.

But we know that indifference is a mask. When Milchick walked out of the elevator after revealing he knew about him and Helena Eagan, Mark had no one to pretend for — and he went completely stiff, blankly wide-eyed in an expression extremely reminiscent of his usual innie self. Whatever the reasons for this, one thing’s for sure: Mark does deeply care about what happened in the tent. And at least for now, he will lose himself in Cold Harbor to cope with it.

Lumon certainly got their productive worker back. But good Lord… at what cost?

[suguann]

Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach. 

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning. 

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back. 

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.” 

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred. 

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets. 

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks. 

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

[starlightxsvt]

Undue Influence | y.jh

synopsis ➳ ❝ he is your sworn enemy. hell, you are literally at war with him right now. yet, you find yourself desiring him in a way that could be catastrophic. the only silver lining is that he might be feeling the same way towards you. or maybe it is all just a game.❞ pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x lawyer!jeonghan genre ➳ enemies to lovers, legal drama, smut wc ➳ 9.1k warnings ➳ this will have inaccurate descriptions of court and legal systems cuz i ain't no lawyer, lots of banter and sexual tension, cursing, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues, very brief hints of childhood trauma, corruption ig, kissing, dirty talking, fingering, one pussy slap, biting and teasing, Jeonghan himself is the biggest warning.

“You Honour, he fucking sucks ass!”

The courtroom plunges into a suffocating void of silence, as if the very air has been swallowed by a black hole, leaving only the echo of your childish outburst. Thick, heavy silence that drags on endlessly, echoing your very professional sentence through the air in an endless spiral. 

You remain frozen in your place, your eyes locked with your opponent who stands before you with his arms crossed and a cocky smile that keeps growing by the second. He looks like a cat that ate the canary, and the urge to punch his stupid face grows within you violently.

“Counselor,” the judge clears her throat. You slowly turn your head to face her, mortification written all over your face. You find her glaring at you. “This is a courtroom, in case you forgot. Not a middle school playground.”

You hear Jeonghan snicker beside you and you force yourself to take a deep breath as you straighten the lapels of your suit and clear your throat. “My apologies, your Honour. It will not happen again.”

The challenging look Jeonghan throws at you foreshadows otherwise, and mentally, you imagine punching his face repeatedly and kicking him in the balls. With that calming image in your mind, you look at Mina, your plaintiff, reminding yourself why you are here. 

You have a job to do.

You cannot lose to Yoon Jeonghan. Not again.

“Defense Counsel, would you like to add anything more?”

Jeonghan’s challenging gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he addresses the judge. “Yes, Your Honour. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he makes a point by looking at you. “My client also loves his child, but let’s not kid ourselves— he can provide the future this child deserves.” He pauses to look directly into your eyes, that cold, ruthless gaze reappearing in his eyes, one that you hate with a passion beyond language. “My opponent may argue emotional bonds, but the reality is this: money makes the world go round. And a child with access to wealth will have the resources to thrive, no matter what. That’s the kind of future my client can provide.”

You grip the table behind you to distract yourself from the rage coursing through your veins. 

The silence weighs down like a lead blanket after his words, and in the suffocating stillness, you hear Mina sigh from behind you, and a piece of your heart breaks. 

Suddenly, you have the urge to cry. This feels familiar, like that case two years ago. 

You were representing a key witness, and Jeonghan was defending a wealthy, high-profile businessman accused of murder. His flawless legal strategy dismantled the evidence you worked so hard to find, and it was an easy victory for him. It made you second-guess everything you thought you knew about the law. You had never lost a case before, and that singular case shattered your sense of invincibility. 

Your boss called you a sore loser after you quit your job as a prosecutor, but there was no other option for you. Prosecuting left a bitter taste in your mouth. So you packed everything up and took a big step, opening your own law firm and starting your journey as a family lawyer.

So that you would never be in a situation like that.

Yet here you are again, up against the same man who made you question everything.

The judge’s voice brings you back to the present moment. “Plaintiff’s Counsel, would you like to add anything?”

You blink and swallow. “No, Your Honour.”

���Very well then,” she leans back in her chair. “The court will resume on Thursday, April 17th, for the final hearing. This session is now concluded.”

As the room slowly empties out, you silently stare at Mina, who looks up at you with shining eyes. “We are going to win, right?” She asks, her voice cracking.

You hate how you doubt yourself.

Blinking a few times, you compose yourself. “We will. Trust me. This isn’t over yet.”

It isn’t. Jeonghan plays dirty all the time, and now, for the first time in your career, you will not hesitate to play dirty either. You have to win this case. There is simply no other option.

— 

Judge Beatrice’s voice stops you in your tracks when you are on your way to the elevators. “What was that, Attorney ____?”

You immediately whip your back and, clasping your hands together in front of you, mutter out a meek apology. “I am really sorry about that, Madam.”

She steps closer to you, her black robes flowing elegantly along with her movements. “That was very unlike you, Attorney ____. You lost your composure the last day as well. Whatever issue you have with Attorney Yoon, you don’t bring them inside the courtroom, is that clear?”

You stare at the ground, chewing on your lower lip. “Yes, madam. I am extremely sorry.”

“I am letting this pass only because your father was a colleague and a teacher I respected dearly. You know I don’t let shit like that pass in my trials.”

“Yes, Madam. Of course.”

“Good,” she walks past you. “Have faith in yourself, Attorney. You can win this case.”

You stand motionless in your place as the judge walks past you and down the hallway before shutting the door to her office with a loud slam.

You exhale a breath you have been holding.

Your heels click rhythmically on the glossy floors as you make your way towards the elevators, just in time to see the doors of one closing. You immediately push the button to open them back up and immediately regret your decision.

The elevator is empty except for Yoon Jeonghan, who looks up as the doors reopen. The moment his eyes land on you, they sparkle vividly, like a hunter spotting an exotic animal they have been looking for all day.

Your feet pull the brake at the last second as you stand in front of the open doors, your eyes fixed on his face, while you go through a mental debate of whether you should get in or not.

“Attorney ____,” Jeonghan hums sweetly and you know it is anything but sweet. He steps aside and extends a hand, silently asking you to enter.

The fear of looking like a coward has you gritting your teeth as you step inside, ignoring him completely.

Keeping ample space between the two of you, you find your place at one corner, choosing to stare at the ceiling of the elevator. You avoid looking at his face because if you look at it too long, you get violent urges like smashing his head against a wall and cursing him out in every language that ever existed. So, you close your eyes and take in a deep breath as the doors close. It is barely a ten second elevator ride from the third floor. You will survive.

Except two seconds later, you realize you won’t.

With a sudden loud thunk and a heavy vibration, the elevator comes to a halt. A second later, the lights fizzle out, leaving only the dim strips of emergency light on in the ceiling.

How delightful.

None of you moves for a second as the realization of the situation dawns on you. Then, Jeonghan presses the emergency call button, and the voice of a security guard comes through.

“I’m really sorry. This elevator has been having some issues recently. Hang in there for a bit. This should be resolved within 10 minutes.” Someone says.

Lovely.

You grip the handle of your handbag tightly.

Today has been an exceptional day so far. What are the chances you get stuck with Yoon Jeonghan, out of all people, in an elevator?

“He said it’ll take ten minutes,” Jeonghan repeats the information, turning to look at you.

You ignore him and stare at the floor.

“Oh come on,” Jeonghan leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. You can feel his eyes on you, and you find yourself wishing it were pitch dark in here. “We’re stuck here for the next ten minutes if luck is on our side. If not, who knows how long? Might as well make the best of it.”

You huff out a breath before meeting his eyes with a glare. “You know what your problem is, Mr. Devil’s Advocate?”

His brows rise and an amused, cocky smile kisses his lips. 

You hate it. 

“I’d love to hear it.” He entertains you.

“You argue just to hear yourself talk. Doesn’t matter if you’re defending a cheating husband, a billionaire with a God complex, or…hell— a rock in the middle of the street. If someone pays you enough, suddenly that rock has rights and everyone else is just ‘too emotional’ to see the truth.”

He chuckles, tilting his head. “Hm, depends on the rock. Is it a trust fund rock or self-made?”

Your nostrils flare, and your hands curl into fists. “See? This— this is why I cannot tolerate your guts. I cannot believe I’m stuck in here with you…Yoon fucking Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan chuckles, and you narrow your eyes at him. His eyes linger on your face, making you feel hyperaware of yourself. He traces his index finger over his chin in a thoughtful manner, as if he is scrutinizing you. “You know, I think you yell at me so much because you secretly enjoy saying my name.” He states with a smirk.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Oh, absolutely. It’s my favourite curse word.”

He laughs, the sound lighthearted yet throaty, and you immediately look away for whatever reason.

“This case is clearly stressing you out, sweetheart.” He hums, casually calling you with a nickname. “You should relax.”

“Unlike someone, I actually care about my clients.” You stare at the doors.

“Mhm. I do too. Otherwise, I would not have taken this case.”

“Oh please,” you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. “Enough with the pretenses. Everyone knows Jun Gi is paying you millions for this.”

Jeonghan grins, flashing his teeth. “What can I say, I am just that good.”

You bite your tongue and stare at him silently, summoning all your hatred and disgust for him in your eyes. You whisper, “You’re shameless.”

He shrugs, nonchalant. 

A sigh of exhaustion parts from your lips, and you check your wristwatch for the nth time. Ten minutes are almost done. How much longer is it going to take?

“What’s the hurry, sweetheart?” Jeonghan singsongs. You grit your teeth, murmuring, “Words cannot describe how much I want to climb through the ceiling vent and leave you here.”

He flashes a grin. “That desperate to get away from me?”

“More like your huge ego.”

“You know what else is huge?” His smirk grows bigger as his eyes shine with mischief.

You scrunch your face in disgust.

“Why are you making that face?” His voice drips with innocence, but you know it's all an act. “I was going to say my winning streak. What was going on in that smart little brain of yours, dirty girl?” He raises a cocky brow, one of his hands working on loosening the knot of his tie. You were about to clap back by saying how unprofessional he is being, but his little action distracts you from saying the words out loud. They become a jumbled mess in your head as your eyes raptly trace the movement of his slender, bony fingers in the dimly lit space. He loosens his navy blue tie before unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, exposing his Adam's apple. 

For some reason, the view is hypnotizing, and you hate yourself for not being able to pry your eyes off him. At the same time, in the very back of your mind, an annoying part keeps repeating his words “dirty girl” over and over again.

What is wrong with you? The air must be thinning out in here.

Your gaze shifts from his neck to his face, and with sheer terror, you realize he has been staring at you all this time. Your heart drops and you immediately look away, wishing you were anywhere but here, stuck in an elevator with Jeonghan. The only man who pushes your buttons like nothing else. 

You don’t have to look at him to know there is a smug smile on his face.

“You keep looking at me, Attorney ____.” The statement is dripping with arrogance. You hate it. You wish it would go pitch black in here, and you could blend in with the darkness. Or, the elevator could just snap and fall down, and you would accept death happily rather than admitting that you were looking at Yoon Jeonghan.

Turns out you’re in luck this time because your wish immediately materializes with the sudden blinking of lights and a harsh jerk of the elevator that throws you off balance. You lose your footing and fall on the opposite side, right next to Jeonghan, clutching onto the handle to keep yourself stable. Then, the emergency lights fizzle out and it goes pitch black.

“Fuck,’’ he curses under his breath.

“I cannot believe I am going to die here, stuck with you,” you hiss, tightly gripping the handle. Your words lack the confidence you would have liked them to have because you don't like where this is going.

Be careful what you wish for!

“We are not going to die in here, okay?” Jeonghan’s voice has the conviction that yours lacked. Your reply is a grunt because, frankly, your mind is starting to spiral. 

Fortunately, the elevator makes another soft jerk, and the lights turn on again with a loud noise. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, and half a second later, you are hyper-aware of Jeonghan’s presence next to you.

He is so close that his arm is brushing against yours. He is so close that the scent of his cologne tickles your nose and momentarily puts you in a trance. Unconsciously, your head moves, turning sideways to look at him, only to find his face too close to yours, his eyes already trained on you like a hawk. 

Your heart skips a beat. As unnerving as it is to be in such proximity to him that you feel his breath caress your face, you find yourself stuck and completely unable to move.

“You know, you are quite beautiful up close.” He whispers. 

Your mind blanks out.

You need to do something— smack his face, shove him away, yell at him. Something. Anything. You realize you cannot exercise that will on your body because you keep gazing at him, counting the little moles on his face that you've never taken notice of. In the back of your mind, a quiet voice tells you that he is getting closer to you, his face inching nearer and nearer.

Is he going to kiss you? Why does the thought delight you and send your heart racing?

Briefly, you wonder if it’s your imagination, but no, he is actually getting closer to you. So close that even without his lips meeting yours, you can taste them, you can feel them and the sensation is electric.

Your eyes fall closed instinctively and you wait for a kiss that never comes.

Instead, what comes is the ping of the elevator, which you hear a second later. When you open your eyes, the doors are already open and two maintenance workers blink at the two of you curiously. 

Like you have been zapped by a current of a thousand bolts, you and Jeonghan fly away from each other. Jeonghan clears his throat while you straighten your jacket and look anywhere but at the two men standing outside.

“You folks okay?” One of them asks.

“Yeah. Any longer and it would not have been fun.” Jeonghan replies, his tone lighthearted. 

Why is he so unaffected? You can still hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums, and your face is radiating enough heat to make you sweaty.

One of the guys says something to Jeonghan, continuing the conversation and you use that time to march out of the elevator, your eyes focused on the ground as you fan your heated face.

Fuck, what were you about to do in there? Kiss Yoon Jeonghan?

God, no.

The thought sends shivers down your spine as you briskly continue your way to the parking lot next to the courthouse. 

As you are fishing your keys out of your handbag, Jeonghan’s voice makes you stop in your tracks. “Attorney ____!”

You are unsure whether it is shame that prevents you from turning around. You decide it is sheer mortification that leaves you unable to look him in the eye and so, you just turn your head to the left and wait, indicating that you have heard him and are waiting for him to continue.

“See you next Thursday,” Jeonghan says and you wish you could see the look on his face. Is he affected like you are? It sure doesn’t feel like that from his voice.

You pause for a second and, once sure he has nothing more to say, you continue marching towards your car. Without sparing a second and completely avoiding looking at where he stands, you pull your Audi out of the parking lot and zoom down the street. 

— 

It is the fifth anniversary of the law firm that Judge Beatrice’s son started. 

A party isn’t really your scene, especially when most of it is full of boring middle aged men, half of whom you cannot tolerate the guts of. So, you make yourself comfortable in a corner, staying near your colleagues and sipping on champagne instead of going around for the sake of formality. 

“Girl, slow down with the drinks.” Lara, your colleague eyes the new flute of champagne in your hand. You huff out a breath. “Please don’t. Let me drink this expensive but free champagne in peace.”

“Dinner isn’t for another hour, you know.” She reminds and before you can reply to her, you are interrupted.

“I didn’t know this was your type of scene, Attorney ____.” Jeonghan’s sudden voice prompts your shoulders to jerk. You turn around and find him standing right there, dressed in a formal three piece suit and slick back hair that makes him look unfairly good.

Fuck. Your fingers grip the flute tightly. For a brief second, your mind travels back to the heated moment you shared with him two days ago in the elevator. Against your wish, your eyes briefly flicker to his lips, but you force your gaze back to his eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Turning your back on him, you sip your champagne in one go. You find Lara looking at the two of you with narrowed eyes and before you can ask her to get you out of this, she struts away with a knowing smile. Jeonghan smoothly positions himself right next to you. “Oh, I just mean I have heard parties aren’t really your thing.” He aimlessly gestures with a hand around the space.

“Don’t know where you heard that from.” You murmur, picking up a flute off the tray as a waiter passes by. 

“I am not particularly a fan of parties either but I sure love it when I get to see you, Attorney ____, in a dress. In which, may I add, you look absolutely stunning.” He flashes a dashing smile.

You look away. “Hm,” you hum, “I pegged you as a party lover, honestly, Counselor Yoon.”

He gives you a dirty smile, leaning closer to you. “You would love to peg me, wouldn’t you?”

You half choke on your drink as blood rushes to your face. Jeonghan finds your reaction pleasing because he chuckles at you before finishing his drink in a quick gulp. Wiping your lips, you observe his profile for a while before setting down your flute and facing your body towards him.

“Are you flirting with me?” You cross your arms and cock a brow at him.

He smiles. Resting a hand on the table behind you, he leans closer and you instinctively pull back. Once again, his cologne assaults your senses, making your mind go blank. The perfume on him is different from the one he was wearing the other day. This one has strong notes of sandalwood and a bit of cinnamon, a dangerously addictive combination when it is on him.

“You tell me,” he drawls with a smirk. His eyes are bright, fiery pools of smoke and desire, so deep and hypnotising that your breath catches in your throat. “Am I allowed to flirt with you?”

You huff, trying your best to be annoyed as you shove him away softly. “Ugh, mind your business, Counselor. And stop invading my space.”

“If you wore a dress like this to court, I would let you win every damn case.” His eye contact doesn’t waver when he says the words.

They leave you stunned. You struggle to understand if he is just making fun of you or if he sincerely means them. You blink, watching him with a face that keeps warming up by the second, unable to say anything.

You are saved from the trouble when a few journalists, accompanied by photographers, ask for pictures of you two.

Ah, just what you were waiting for. 

One of the many things that you do not enjoy at parties like this is the abundance of journalists, going around with their cameras flashing and asking annoying questions. You find it pointless, especially because of know it is done mostly for flaunting.

Jeonghan smiles brightly, tugging you closer to him with a hand on the small of your back. His fingertips brush against the bare skin on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You try to put some distance between the two of you, but he keeps you close, grinning at the flashing camera.

A reporter asks you, “You are working against Attorney Yoon in a case right now. Could you tell us how it has been so far?”

“I think Attorney Yoon is a very competent lawyer. He is good at his job, like I am in mine.” You give a professional, practiced smile to the reporter.

“Wow,” Jeonghan raises a brow at you. “Such sweet words coming from you.”

The camera's flash and you smile while muttering under your breath. “If you believed them to be true, then you are not as good as you think you are, Lawyer Yoon.”

He simply chuckles and pulls you tighter against his body, posing for the cameras.

“Who do you think is going to win this case?” A reporter asks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. What kind of a question is that?

Jeonghan takes over, replying playfully but also professionally. “To know that, you need to wait till next week. Now, if you will excuse us, gentlemen.” He ushers you away from the reporters and towards a comparatively secluded part of the backyard, right next to the conservatory.

“Can you let go of my hand?” You huff, trying to free yourself. Jeonghan finally stops and turns around, regarding you with mischief, his solid grip still on your wrist. “Why? I promise I don’t bite.”

“Ew,” you tug your hand free and take a few steps away from him. You smooth out your dress, muttering underneath your breath, “I was stuck with you in an elevator this week. Can’t believe I am seeing you again so quickly.”

He pouts. “Aw, come on. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“Right,” your lips form a sarcastic smile. “Like you have those.”

Jeonghan does not reply and you try to pretend he is not right next to you, instead looking at the large estate of Judge Beatrice’s mansion. From this vantage point, you can see everything: from the manicured gardens to the sweeping line of tables draped in white linen, flickering lanterns dotting the pathway, and the silhouette of the live band. The scent of night-blooming jasmine wafts through the air, and every now and then, bursts of laughter rise above the steady, gentle hum of chatter among the guests.

“This place is actually beautiful.” Jeonghan comments.

“Yeah, when you don’t have reporters chasing after you, it is.” You reply, watching the last hues of sunset blend into the night sky. Despite having your sworn enemy right next to you, you feel oddly peaceful, a sense of tranquility settling in your heart like the hush after a summer storm.

“I have always wanted to own a mansion like this.” You find yourself whispering. Jeonghan turns his head to look at you and you feel his steady gaze piercing holes in the side of your face. Unable to resist yourself any longer, you turn your head to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies, voice laced with a foreign tenderness that feels melodic to your ears.

In the muted lights of the garden, his face appears lethally gorgeous and you are transported to that moment inside the elevator two days ago. The same feelings bubble up from deep within you, making your breaths short and heavy as you fight a battle against pressing your lips to his.

It feels like a losing battle.

He gently hums your name. Your proper name, not as your job title and the hairs on your neck stand up. Hearing your name from his mouth feels sinfully good, like a taboo and you are forced to meet his gaze.

With bated breath, you watch him come closer to you.

“Jeonghan,” the word falls from your lips like a plea, tentative yet needy, soft yet urgent. He inches even closer upon hearing the word, pressing his body snugly against yours, his hot breath fanning your face, only a few centimeters of space left between your lips and his.

His hand explores your body, caressing the back of your thigh before going upwards, resting a bit too long on your ass before slithering around your waist. As if you were not already close enough, he tugs you even closer and soft grunts your name once more, his eyes growing heavy-lidded as his gaze remains trained on your lips.

You can almost feel fireworks go off inside your body. You are feeling sensations and desires you have never felt before, and a tiny part of your brain raises alarm bells, but at this point, you are too gone to care. You can never go back to how it used to be with him after you cross this line.

Somehow, you find yourself being okay with that thought right now. You briefly wonder if it is all the drinks you had finally catching up to you.

Your hands that were frozen by your side until now finally relax, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and resting your forehead against his. Your body finds a place next to him so easily and gracefully, it’s like you have always been together. Like yin and yang.

He inhales sharply and utters your name, his voice heavy with desire.

You make up your mind in that moment.

Without wasting another breath, you pull his face towards you and kiss him, slowly at first but it changes into quick and desperate as Jeonghan’s hands cup your jaw and tilt your face up to get better access. He completely takes over the kiss and your body, pushing your back against the wall of the conservatory and kissing you like he had been wanting to do it for ages. It feels like he is a man starved and you are his beacon of light, the way his hand grips your waist and pulls you impossibly close while devouring your lips. His tongue is in your mouth, tasting every inch of you and it is absolutely glorious; a breathtaking combination of all of your wildest fantasies combined. It is hard, bruising and wanton, taking your breath away yet leaving you feeling a high unlike ever before.

When he finally pulls away, the two of you gasp for air, faces flushed with heat and sweat. His eyes stay locked with yours and you clearly see the desire pool in them like molten lava. You know for a fact that he sees the same in you. You hate Jeonghan, you truly do but you have never wanted a man as much as you want him.

So much so that when he starts tugging you with him, you don’t question him or protest. Silently, he pulls you towards the entrance of the conservatory. He tugs on the door, and it comes open, surprising you. With the door closed and away from the noise and the crowd, his lips find yours with ease even in the darkness. One of his lands feels the skin of your thigh underneath the slit of your dress, his fingers gripping and squeezing your flesh while his other hand holds your face, tracing the slopes and edges of your jaw and neck with his thumbs.

“Jeonghan,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and pulling it closer to your core. His fingers brush over your panties and you shudder, burying your face in his neck.

“You want my fingers here, sweetheart?” His voice is deep as he starts tracing his mouth from your jaw to your neck. You make a barely cohesive sound of agreement and then, baffling you, he slaps your pussy, hard. Your mouth hangs open in shock and mortification, the sting of his slap leaving behind a delicious tingle.

“Answer me,” he whispers next to your ear, nibbling on the skin below your earlobe. Another sigh of pleasure falls from your lips, your eyes falling closed at his ministrations. “Yes,” you whisper. 

“You have it.” He hisses and, in one smooth motion, he pulls your panties aside and thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting his jacket tightly as his digits easily slip in due to your arousal. “Oh god.” You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his fingers move in and out of you with ease, hitting the perfect spot each time. Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he’s sending your way, you know you’re not very far from your release. You are so aroused it is embarrassing but by now, you have gone past the point of caring.

He speeds up the movement of his fingers and you squeak, “Fuck, Jeonghan. I’m gonna…”

He chuckles. “So quickly, sweetheart? Are my fingers that good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing onto his body like he is your lifeline. Come then. Wet my fingers with your sweet juice,” His filthy words make you moan out loud involuntarily, his thumb brushing over your clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your orgasm.

It shakes your limbs as you stand there pressed against his body, feeling it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly while he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally feel the last of your orgasm ebb away and your mind starts functioning again, Jeonghan pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you.

You shiver, whether from the intimate act or from the cold, you don’t know.

Jeonghan watches you silently, his eyes carefully taking in every detail of your face. You see his gaze shift in the dimly lit space, a slither of light coming from outside falling directly on his face, casting it in a heavenly glow and adding a new shine to his wet lips. For a moment, your mind blanks out, transfixed by his beauty and the hum of pleasure echoing through your body. When the beating of your heart finally slows down and the high of your release starts wearing off, a chill runs down your spine and you grow cold.

The realization of what you just did hits you like a ton of bricks and you freeze, staring at him blankly.

Fuck. That should not have happened. He is a walking, talking red flag and you just got dirty with him. Hell, you’re going up against him in court next week!

Fuck, fuck.

This is the man you lost to. This man is your sworn enemy. You should not have let him in.

Especially…especially because deep down in your heart, you feel something for him that is serious and sincere. Past all your history and professional war, you feel something for him and after tonight, you know it will only amplify.

You have no one to blame but yourself.

Jeonghan leans closer to you, the glint of mischief returning in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but in a moment of panic, you shove him away and hurriedly fix the strap of your dress.

“I need to leave,” you announce in a broken voice, pushing past him and scurrying out the door. You take the back exit, marching away from the party as fast as possible while trying to keep your tears at bay.

Silly, silly girl.

—

The sky is gloomy today, much like your mood.

You stand in the hallway of the courthouse, pensively gazing out the window, your body humming with nerves. After your encounter with Jeonghan, your weekend sucked. With the memory of that night branded in your brain, you ran around nonstop, trying to gather some solid evidence against Jun Gi. 

You wish you could have done better.

The sound of heavy footsteps steals your attention as you turn around to find Jeonghan walking towards you.

You freeze in your spot, your hands gripping your handbag in a deathly hold as he comes closer and closer.

“Hey, ____.” Your name casually rolls off his tongue and for a moment, you struggle to find your voice. He looks as gorgeous as ever with his hair slicked back and dressed in a fine black three-piece suit. His face, as usual, gives nothing away, radiating composure and ease.

He looks lethal and you hate it.

“About that night at the party,” You find yourself speaking. “I hope you forget that. I just had one too many drinks. That’s all.”

Jeonghan blinks, slowly registering your words. “Wait, are you saying that it was a mistake?”

You clench your teeth and scowl at him, “Yes.”

“Ha,” Jeonghan scoffs, his mouth parting in shock. He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair, disheveling the styled locks. “Fuck, really?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “And I hope you won’t bring that up ever again, Mr. Yoon.” You don’t wait for his reply, shooting a final glare at him before marching down the hallway. 

It was a mistake. It was a mistake. You keep chanting the words over and over again in your head, trying to believe them.

The effort is futile because you believe otherwise. To you, it meant more. Sure, it was a moment of weakness, a lapse in your judgment. However, over the weekend, upon reflection, you realized that you have feelings for the insufferable, egotistical man.

There is no room for those feelings right now.

You have a case to win. If you lose today, you will not only lose to Jeonghan for the second time but also a mother will lose her child.

So, no room for feelings.

— 

Your closing statement feels heavy on your tongue, especially when you see Mina’s glossy eyes directed at you, hopeful yet petrified and you feel the crushing guilt overtake your entire being. You should have done better.

The financial statements of her ex-husband are the only weapon you managed to secure. He’s a powerful man, meticulously guarded. Digging up dirt on him has been like searching for a needle in a haystack. The few precious pieces of footage you submitted, like glimpses of his reckless lifestyle, wild spending sprees, late-night parties with young women, and drinking until dawn, you hope, are enough to plant a seed of doubt. It’s not much, but it’s a spark of hope you hold onto, praying that it just might turn the tide in your favour. So, you go with that.

You take a deep breath. “Your Honour, the primary concern in this case is the well-being of the child. The father’s spending habits reveal a pattern of reckless prioritisation— purchasing luxury items and throwing expensive parties while neglecting his son’s care. Parenting requires more than financial security; it demands consistent presence and responsibility, which my client has consistently demonstrated.

Additionally, we cannot ignore the situation with the nanny, Jeanie. Initially willing to testify, she suddenly withdrew without explanation. It is a suspicious change that raises concerns about potential interference. This only reinforces the need for caution when considering the father’s ability to provide a stable environment. So I urge the court to grant primary custody to the mother, ensuring the child’s best interests are prioritized. Thank you.”

You do not find any power in you to look at the judge’s face or anyone’s in the courtroom. Silently, you pad over to your bench and sit down next to Mina, your eyes trained on the ground. One of her hands comes to rest on top of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze of reassurance. 

Judge Beatrice asks, “Defense counsel, your final statements, please.”

“Yes, your Honour,” Jeonghan responds, standing up and buttoning his jacket. “But before that, I would like to apologize for the unexpected request at this stage. Some new information has come to light that I believe is crucial to this case. With the court’s permission, I would like to call an additional witness, Ms. Jeanie Miller, the child’s nanny.”

Shocked and bewildered at his statement, your head snaps up. 

“There was no mention of having a witness at the stand today,” Judge Beatrice says flatly.

“I understand the unusual nature of this late request, but given the gravity of the custody decision, it is imperative that the court hears her testimony,” Jeonghan states firmly.

"Wait, what?" Gun Ji stands up from his seat beside Jeonghan, a look of panic on his face. "That...that's not necessary!" Jeonghan ignores him, calmly keeping his eyes focused on judge Beatrice.

She gives him a long, keen look. “Fine, bring her in.” 

—

“After thoroughly reviewing the evidence presented and carefully considering the testimonies, this court determines that the child’s best interests must take precedence. Therefore, the court rules that the primary physical and legal custody of the minor child be granted to the mother. The father shall be given reasonable visitation rights as determined by the parenting plan. Court is adjourned.” Judge Beatrice finishes. The sound of her striking the gavel echoes through the courtroom. Beside you, Mina yelps out, her voice full of glee and unshed tears as she jumps up before engulfing you in a hug. However, everything surrounding you has faded into the background as you keep staring at Jeonghan on the other side, his face composed and content even.

His eyes meet yours and he nods, giving you a soft, subtle smile that almost feels like a mirage.

Is this a dream?

You just won this case. You won against Yoon Jeonghan.

But why does it not feel like a victory at all?

He yielded. He brought Jeanie in court and had her testify against his client at the very last moment.

Why?

A bitter taste of betrayal is left in your mouth as you watch him ignore Jun Gi’s yelling. It feels like you did not earn the victory but rather, it was handed to you.

The feeling is sickening.

—

With everyone gone, the courtroom is empty now, except for you and Jeonghan.

Your files lay spread out on the table but you don’t bother arranging them. You should have been out of here by now, going on with your day and even make plans to celebrate your victory. For some reason, though, you could not leave.

You stand with your arms crossed and watch Jeonghan, his back facing you, as he arranges all his files and puts them in his briefcase one by one while talking over the phone.

“Yes, I can be there in an hour…Okay, see you then.” He hangs up and sets the phone down, tilting his head to glance at you. “Congratulations, Lawyer ___.”

His words sound like sarcasm.

“Why did you let me win, Jeonghan?” Your voice is flat.

He turns around and frowns. “What do you mean, 'let you win'?” 

“You know very well what I mean,” you sneer, stepping closer to him, your heels clicking loudly. “Why did you yield? You have never done that before, and you have represented far worse people. What, getting in my pants changed your mind? You thought I would let you hit if you let me have this case?”

His mouth falls open, his eyes widening in disbelief. 

“Answer me, asshole!”

“You are better than this,” he replies, his tone quiet but his gaze turbulent, a swirl of emotions shining in his pupils. “You know better than this.” He pauses before scrunching up his face. “Let me hit? What…How could you even say that? Sure, I am a scumbag but even for me that’s low. You know I respect you.”

“Do you? You hiss, getting up in his face. “Do you really, Mr. Money Talks? Since I have known you, you have never done something nice without an ulterior motive. Tell me, what was it this time?”

“I have had enough of this conversation,” he grunts, turning away to finish packing his belongings. 

“Oh, I am sure you have. Now that I have seen through your shit, I bet you’re done, you pathetic asshole.”

He does not make a sound as he finishes packing, the sound of his briefcase shutting leaving an echoing boom in the thick, looming silence. Without acknowledging your presence, he starts walking away and you scoff in utter disbelief. His quiet footsteps echo through the courtroom, leaving behind a sense of emptiness and rage inside you that you don't know how to grapple with.

When he is almost at the door, he turns around and stares at you blankly. “For what it is worth, I really do respect you.”

The door slams quietly behind him.

—

1 week later

You stroll through the bustling streets of late-night Seoul, the faint hum of traffic mixing with the distant chatter of people at the little roadside shops, drinking with their friends. The air is slightly chilly, but comfortable, just enough to make you pull your coat a little tighter around you. 

It has been a week since your victory. Throughout the week, you have waited for that feeling of accomplishment to come to you, the sense that will force you to look on the bright side. It has not come. 

Victory should feel sweeter than this. You won the case, defending your client with everything you had. Yet, as you weave through the crowd, your thoughts keep drifting back to him— Jeonghan. You can’t help it. You keep revisiting your last interaction with him; that pained look in his eyes and the quiet depth of his words. It gave you a glimpse of a Jeonghan you never saw before, one you thought did not exist— one who has a heart.

You tell yourself it’s just the lingering adrenaline of a hard-fought case, but it bothers you more than you’d like to admit. So much so that you feel tempted to pick up your phone and just call him.

“____!” A sudden loud voice makes you jolt as you stop on the pavement and look around. You spot Kai, a law school friend and Jeonghan's colleague, sitting at one of the roadside restaurants, holding a bottle of soju with one hand and waving at you with the other.

You smile and walk over to him.

“Sit. Have a drink. It has been a while since we had a chat,” he smiles, offering you a seat. You grab a blue plastic tool and sit, eyeing the empty shot glass and some leftover food on a plate next to him. You tease him, “What? Got ditched by your date?” 

He snorts, pouring you a shot. “By date, if you mean Jeonghan, then yeah, sure.”

Your ears perk and you sit up straight. “Jeonghan was here?”

He hums, pushing a glass towards you. “Yep, he just left.” He downs a shot and makes a noise of satisfaction. “This guy, I swear to god. He’s been weird all week. Right after the hearing on Thursday, Jun Gi stormed into the office, calling him a traitor and whatnot. Jeonghan didn’t even flinch. Just sat there, cool as always.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink. “At some point, the guy shoved him. And, get this— Jeonghan threw a punch. Didn’t even hesitate. I swear I’ve never seen him like that. Gave Jun Gi a black eye and then kicked him out the door in front of everyone. Insane, right?”

Holy shit. You gape at Kai. “Jeonghan... hit him? His client?”

“Ex client, but yeah, he did. He never loses his cool like that, you know. I tried talking to him, but he just shrugged it off. I think this case messed with his head. Not like him to get that... involved.” You sit on the rickety plastic stool, stunned. The nagging in your brain finally becomes too much to ignore and you ask, “Did he say where he was going?" “Jeonghan? He’ll probably catch the bus. You know the stop two blocks down that runs till midnight.”

Your heart starts racing. “Thanks, Kai,” you murmur, quickly chugging a shot down before hurrying down the sidewalk. You pick up your pace, the chill of the night air pushing you forward despite the uncomfortable feeling of your heels digging into your feet. You don’t know what you’ll say to Jeonghan when you find him— you just know you have to.

You start running at full speed, pushing through the busy sidewalk and murmuring apologies to the people you bump into. The bus stop comes into view, fairly empty, and your heart stops, realizing you missed Jeonghan. However, a second later, your view gets clearer and you spot the man standing there with a cigarette between his lips, his jacket slung over his shoulders as he looks around with boredom.

“You!” You charge at him, yelling. “You! Explain. What really happened that day? Why did you change your mind?” You pant, catching your breath when you finally stop in front of him.

Jeonghan, busy blowing out a thin stream of smoke, whips his head upon hearing your voice, shock flashing in his gaze. His half-lidded eyes widen, before he frowns, “What the hell are you doing here?’’

“Answer me, Jeonghan.” You glare at him, still gasping for air. “What happened that day in court?” He keeps staring at you with keen eyes that make you feel like he can see through you, reading your innermost thoughts. He takes a drag of his cigarette before speaking, his voice smooth as always. “Since you're so curious...I did my duty at first, you know. I believed my client. That’s what a lawyer does…even when everything else tells you your client is a bastard.” “But you knew that from the very beginning. You knew he wasn’t fit to take care of his son. You don’t just flip like that. What made you change your mind?”

Jeonghan pauses, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze trained on the poison stick thoughtfully. “Look, I’ve defended plenty of rich idiots. Comes with the job. But this one... he just slipped up.” You raise a brow. “Slipped up?”

He smirks, but rather than the usual cockiness, there’s a shadow behind it that leaves you wondering. “Let’s just say I overheard him running his mouth on the phone. Something about how he didn’t really care about the kid. He just didn’t want to ‘lose’ to his ex-wife. Didn’t matter if his kid hated him. As long as he came out on top, he was happy.”

You frown, processing the information. Jeonghan flicks the ash off his cigarette, his tone a bit sharper now. “Turns out our model father also bribed the nanny to keep her mouth shut. When I got her alone and told her I’d keep her safe if she talked... well, a lot more things came into light.”

You hold your breath. “Was he…abusing him?”

Jeonghan huffs out. “Let me know if Mina wants to file a case against him. I have enough evidence to make her win.”

Fuck. You sigh, your gaze trained on the gravel of the pavement. “So that’s why you went against your client.”

Jeonghan scoffs lightly, still not looking directly at you. “Don’t make it sound noble. It was just bad strategy to keep lying when the truth was that obvious.”

You fold your arms and narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not that selfless. You don’t just risk your reputation for a lost cause.” Jeonghan remains silent for a beat, his jaw tightening before he finally looks at you, something unguarded flashing in his eyes. “Let’s just say... I’ve seen that look before. In that kid. Eyes that don’t know whether to hate or hold on because neither makes sense when your old man never really gave a damn. Figured I didn’t want to see another kid grow up wondering why he wasn’t enough.” He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, but the hint of vulnerability lingers. You catch it— just a flicker before his usual cocky smirk slides back into place. “Jeonghan…” “Don’t get all sentimental on me now. The kid just deserved better. That’s all.”

He takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it to the ground, crushing it under his heel as you silently watch him. The tension between you lingers, charged and unresolved. You want to say a lot of things to him, but you don’t know where to start. It feels like a cactus is lodged in your throat, pricking at your skin every time a word manifests on your tongue.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt out. Jeonghan’s head turns towards you slowly, his eyes blown out like he just saw Santa Claus flying through the sky. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes.

You bite your lip. “I… am sorry. For the things I said that day. For…I don’t know…Everything, I guess.”

He keeps staring at you like you have grown two heads and you drawl out a groan. “Can you not stare at me like that?”

“I am…lost for words.”

You try to make a joke. “Wow, very unlike Yoon Jeonghan to be left speechless.”

“You tend to do that to me,” he murmurs so softly as if he did not want you to hear it but you do, and your heart starts drumming loudly in your ears. His eyes never stray from you as he flicks the cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

Then, he takes a step towards you.

You don’t step back, looking up at his eyes, slightly breathless. His eyes shine, mirroring the lights of late-night Seoul and something deeper, something foreign. It is a look you have never seen before that fills you with hope and joy.

Jeonghan’s hand reaches for yours, his fingertips ever so slightly tracing the lengths of your fingers and your knuckles, giving you goosebumps.

“Your words really hurt that day, you know,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes deeply intimate. He comes even closer to you and you love it. You love having him in your personal space, feeling the warmth radiating off him, the smell of his cologne and cigarette mixing into an addictive scent. “But, now that you are looking at me like that, with those beautiful eyes of yours,” he pauses, tantalizingly slowly linking his fingers with yours. His tone is serious but also contains a softness that makes heat pool in your belly, “I have no choice but to forgive you.”

You make a broken sound of acknowledgement. Too busy trying to get your heart to calm down. You feel like a giddy teenager, ready to have your first kiss.

And boy, do you want to kiss him.

“But,” he pauses and you hold your breath. “When you say you’re sorry for the things you said that day…does it also include that?”

“What?” You blink.

“You said it was a mistake. Are you sorry for saying that?”

Your breath stops. You gaze into his eyes, deep, dark pools of honey and you feel a sense of vulnerability grow in you. Unconsciously, you hold his hand tighter when you whisper, “Jeonghan?”

“Hm?” He leans closer to you and it physically hurts not to kiss him.

“That night…was it a mistake for you?”

He remains silent, looking at you unblinking. His eyes search your face for something you don’t understand.

“No, it was not, ____.” He says quietly but the conviction in his voice is louder than anything. “I meant every word I said that night and I do not regret having my fingers deep inside your cunt. In fact, I crave to do it again.” Only Jeonghan can say something so filthy with so much emotion. Your breath stutters and heat blooms all over your skin as you fight to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Me too,” you whisper, hypnotized by his gaze. “It was not a mistake. I am sorry I said it was.”

The look in his eyes instantly darkens. His free hand snakes around your waist, pulling your body tight against his. Your arms find home around his neck and your eyes trail to his lips before you whisper, “I want to kiss you, Jeonghan.”

“What’s holding you back?”

Nothing.

You lean upwards just slightly and press your lips to his. His arms engulf you, pulling you in deeper into the kiss. It is perfect, it is magical. The taste of cigarette in his tongue, the caress of his thumb on your lower back, the feeling of his warmth encompassing you whole— it is all perfect.

The signature cocky smile is back on his lips when you break the kiss, that familiar mischief twinkling in his eyes. You cannot help but smile. 

“Wow, Lawyer ____.” He is grinning. “Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?”

You feel giddy.

“Not so fast, Counselor. At least take me on a date first.” You tease, adjusting his collars. He leans down to come to your eye level. “How about this? You come home with me tonight and stay over. In the morning, I’ll take you out for breakfast. In fact, we will spend the whole day outside.”

“Sounds like a date,” you mumble, looking into his eyes.

“Yes, it is.” He hums, leaning back. His hand finds yours and interlocking your fingers, he starts walking. 

“You’re not going to take the bus?” You ask, trailing after him. He has that incredulous, love-struck smile on his face. “Nah. I feel like walking with you. What do you say? Shall we take the long road?”

You grin. “Yes.”

© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

A/N: what was originally a 6k word fic turned out to be almost 10k. whew! i feel like i wrote another fic set in sibilance universe unintentionally. bc Jeonghan was a lawyer over there too?? anyway, i hope this was an enjoyable read. i'd love to hear your thoughts so do comment or drop an ask! as always, please like and reblog! toodles!<3

[psuejo]

❥ sinners!au toji...😓

“hey, baby.” scar stretched wide with his grin. “let me in, yeah?”

you should say no. you know you should, especially with rumors of vampires running around at night, sucking stragglers dry or turning sweet neighbors into viscous beasts. it’s not safe, and it’s beyond rare for toji to genuinely ask for permission.

but maybe you’re touch-starved or ovulating or something, because you let him in, a small smile on your face and heat pooling between your thighs.

you might regret it in the morning, when the sun makes your skin bubble and the smell of garlic makes you gag, but not now, not when toji is rutting into you from behind, one thick arm wrapped around your marked neck. each thrust batters that weeping tip against your spongey cervix, and you swear he’s trying to fuck you through the damn mattress.

hell, maybe he is.

he was strong before — at least six feet of unadulterated muscle with the smarts to match — and he’s always been rough in bed. it’s just how he is.

now, though?

he’s like an animal.

“hnngh, t-toji—” you moan, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on that thick, pulsing bicep. your head is light, thoughts swamped beneath sheer pleasure, and each breath that passes through your swollen, parted lips is accompanied by a slight wheeze.

his head is right beside yours, dark fringe falling in front of his eyes as toji nips at the lobe of your ear, pearly incisors nearly piercing the tender skin. nearly, but not quite. after all, he’s never been in the habit of actually hurting you.

by no means is he a good person, and you know it, but even he knows where to draw the line.

toji chuckles, low and gravelly in your ear. “mmf, shit, what’s wrong, doll? can’t take it? t-too much for ya?” his hand trails down your front, delivering a swift swat to your drooling mound, and you yelp.

music to my damn ears.

his rough fingers glisten with your slick, and it’s almost sinful how quickly saliva rushes to his mouth, threatening to spill past his lips. you can hear him gulp, almost feel his adam’s apple bobbing.

the squelches following the next three smacks are lewd and loud, pussy sobbing, and you can’t tell whether it’s for more or for him to stop. honestly, it doesn’t even matter, not when every drag of his throbbing cock through your walls has your eyes rolling back and tears pooling on your waterline.

“filthy thing,” he tuts. “got all this vampire shit goin’ on, and here you are, moaning like yer in heat.”

like he isn’t groaning and moaning, broad chest plastered right against your slick back, as if toji can’t stand to be apart. it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins, and he intends to keep it that way.

you shake your head, mind scrabbling to smack together a coherent sentence. hard to, though, when every snap of his hips jumbles you up. “y-yeah, ngh, but you’re here too.”

toji cocks a brow. smart girl.

but he can’t have you thinking too hard. he shifts his hips, angling the crown of his cock to hit that sweet spot and push any intelligent thoughts right out of that pretty head.

“couldn’t leave ya by yourself, ma. ain’t— fuck... ain’t safe,” he groans, and his dick gives a happy twitch inside of you when you clamp down on him like a vice.

he’ll be damned if something happens to you.

the bed creaks beneath you two, and if you could hear over the sound of slick skin slapping against skin and both of your noises, then you’d probably hear wood splintering.

oh, well.

you’re so close it almost hurts, an insistent tightening in your gut that has you digging into the sheets. “ah, f-fuck... right there, mmngh—!”

toji doesn’t stop, only letting his pace grow sloppy when you cum, tears streaming down the side of your face and squirt spraying the sheets. your teeth sink into the meat of his arm, a mix of blood and drool trickling down his pale skin, and he cums right then and there with, if you had a sliver of coherency, what you swear is a whimper.

he’s emptying his balls — hot ropes of cum fill your womb like he has a point to prove, mouth laving at your shoulder. “mm, s-shit, pretty girl... fuck.”

he hasn’t cum that hard in months. must be that new vampire blood.

[pbpressure]

the hat stays on | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, a lick of fluff, fingering, reader gets some really good head, overstimulation, dom!paige, sub!reader, degradation (reader absolutely has a humilitation kink), praise, spanking, spit, strap sex + riding, and there's some tears but it hardly counts as crying, i think that's all...let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 4k-ish

summary: to see paige being celebrated for all that she's accomplished this season sends your emotions into a frenzy. but there's one thing you can't seem to shake...the hat she's given to celebrate that final four ticket punch. and how badly you want her to bend you over while she's wearing it.

author's note: my april fools prank is that i’m posting this after saying i was gonna disappear! i was just waiting for this season's version of post elite 8 paige and obviously we know the impact of her in a hat. here’s something to hold you guys (and myself) over for now, managed to put this together literally within a few hours and did my best to proofread but forgive me if anything slipped!

as always feedback is appreciated <3

enjoy! x

if there was ever a time to be ravenous, realistically it wasn’t now. but you couldn’t help it.

after paige and the team punched their ticket to the final four, the way that the crowd erupted was electric. the confetti, the speeches, the hugs, the tears. it was monumental. but as emotional of a moment it had been, you could only focus on one thing.

paige in that stupid hat.

her entire demeanor changed when it hit the top of her head. as usual she was all jokes, but there was no denying that you were yearning to be beneath her just as she was right now. 

you’d stood back and waited for what felt like hours.

interviews, pictures, congratulations from friends and family. it rightfully couldn’t wait, so that meant you had to.  

but when paige is finally done and she locks eyes with you from across the hall you feel like you’re the only two around.

walking over as calm as you can manage to avoid looking dramatic, you immediately are engulfed in her arms. she lifts you from the ground momentarily and spins around, not missing the way you giggle, chanting “you did it!” with the gummiest smile imaginable on your face.

“babe, oh my god i’m so proud of you!” you squeak from excitement, still partially buried in her chest.

she kisses the top of your head, pulling you back from her body so she could get a good look at you.

“thank you for coming, baby, it means the world to have you here right now.”

“you know i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

when you finish your sentence, voice low and filled with admiration, you watch paige’s gaze soften even more. 

then she’s bending down to place a kiss on your lips.

it’s gentle, sweet, and when you both pull apart you can’t help but smile again. feeling the love radiate off of her.

but then you look up beyond her eyes, immediately catching sight of the reason you’d been so eager to sit and watch her do media for an hour.

“it’s the hat, huh?” paige breaks your thought, raising her eyebrows all too knowingly.

you nod, licking your lips unintentionally and smirking when you watch her eyes flutter downwards and then back up. 

“you like?” she asks again, voice dripping with pride.

“oh, you have no idea.” you grumble, rolling your eyes playfully and lowering your hands to her hips.

but she knew exactly what she was doing.

paige can feel you squeeze her slightly, signaling that there was more desperation behind you’d said.

you stand up on your toes, getting as close to her ear as you can before she meets you halfway. covering your mouth with a single hand, the next few words to leave your mouth aren’t a shock at all.

“i want you to fuck me in it. i need you to.”

and before you can return to your true height, paige is the one grabbing your hips now, holding you so you remain close and it’s her leaning towards your ear this time.

“then when i get home, you better be laid out and waiting.”

your eyes go wide, not having expected that to be her response. but you compose yourself, pulling away from her completely and nodding. you squeeze her hand out of habit before turning and getting out of the arena as fast as possible.

you knew you’d have plenty of time to get back before she did, but you were rushing for your own sake.

you’re not sure how much time passes, but as soon as you shut the door behind you you’re already shedding layers of clothing. 

stopping when you’re just in your bra and panties you lay on the bed, the air in the room biting at your exposed skin.

you stare at the ceiling for god knows how long before you hear the door once again being unlocked, then it opens and closes.

the sound of paige’s footsteps made you swallow hard, the anticipation eating away at you.

when she enters the room you almost don’t want to lift your head to look at her, but you have to and you’re glad you do. 

her skin is still flushed, she’s wearing the same shirt, just with sweats instead of her uniform shorts. the sweats hang low on her hips and you know that if she raises her arms just slightly your eyes will be met with the waistband of her underwear.

and of course the hat stayed on. she essentially promised you that it would.

you press your thighs together unknowingly, trying to relieve the pulsing between them. but she’s not pleased with that, crossing the room in just a few strides until she’s stood in front of you. 

with a strong hand she smacks at your knee before placing the same hand between them and pushing outwards until your legs fall open again. 

“i wish you could see yourself right now,” she utters, chuckling. “legs spread, pussy begging to get fucked. it’s a little pathetic.”

you don’t say anything back, but you whine and reach your hand out for her. that’s smacked away too.

“use your words, c’mon.”

“paige, please? i waited all night, i even laid here like you asked.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but it sounds distraught enough.

the same hand that had just swatted yours away is now tracing up and down your right leg. her touch is feather light, you feel goosebumps raising to the surface of each spot she grazes.

up and down your knee, the outside of your thigh. up your hip back down and then towards your cunt that was sopping wet without a doubt. she ignores that though, trailing her fingers up and down the inside of your thigh now.

you’re panting, try not to make too much noise. but also growing extremely impatient.

“i’ll tell you what,” paige blurts out, pausing her hand as well. “let’s see how long you can go without tappin’ out. i’ll decide when and IF you get to take my dick tonight.” 

you whimper, already thinking about the various ways you wanted to protest. but she doesn’t even let you begin.

“or i could leave you here like this? go celebrate with my teammates and let you figure out how you’re gonna cum.”

“no! please, do something.” you beg, leaning up even further on your elbows.

paige bends down until her nose is kissing yours, you can feel her breath mingling with your own jagged ones.

“you’re begging already? this sound be fun.” she says, the grin on her lips as arrogant as ever.

you don’t get much time to gather yourself again before she’s on her knees in front of you. she wasted no time hooking her fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs. 

when your bare cunt is exposed you get the urge to shut your legs, but the thought is long gone when you hear paige hiss below you.

“you’re this wet already and i haven’t even done anything. i must really get you hot, hmm?” she laughs. it almost enrages you but then you’re reminded of your current position.

“i’ve only ever gotten this wet for you.”

your voice is shaky, but she can hear you loud and clear.

“i know.” 

she wraps her arms around your thighs completely, pulling you closer. then her mouth is on you in a heartbeat.

“shit! p-paige slow down,” you don’t even believe those words leave your mouth. but after waiting so long, you think you’ve got a good three minutes in you before you cum. “FUCK!” 

she says nothing, tongue messy and fast between your folds. the sounds that quickly fall onto your ears only adding to the way she was doing a number on you.

you feel a gush of wetness leak from you and paige groans against your clit, tongue quick to lap it up.

you’re a mess, you try your best to compose yourself but it’s no use. 

“p, you’re so good! fuck, d-don’t stop.”

she had no plans to stop, but when you beg her not to she is certain that she won’t give up until her jaw is on fire.

you crane your neck to sneak a peek at her and you choke on a moan.

the only thing you can see is her head slightly bobbing.

of course covered by her hat.

you reach down, hands looking to grip onto something the best they can manage. you’ve got one hand cradling the side of her head and the other on top of it.

“just like that baby, i’m so close!” you yelp, head falling backwards into the mattress once more.

“i know.” she says for the second time tonight. except this time to emphasize she pulls back completely, taking a breath and forcibly ejecting a wad of spit from between her lips. it falls in a hot glob onto your clit and you think your heart stops for a moment.

you gasp, back arching off the bed completely.

“oh my god! paige–“ you mewl, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head that you swear you’re unconscious for a split second.

the lewdness of the act is what pushes you over the edge. you cum, so much that you should probably be embarrassed. but you couldn’t even blame yourself.

paige was meant to eat pussy. she knew how good she was at it too, never missing the opportunity to get between your legs.

you feel a slight sheen of sweat covering your entire body and your toes curl, your body trembling slightly. static in your limbs.

when paige doesn’t pull away you cry out, trying to pry her head away from you. this earns you another smack on your thigh.

she pulls away, lips glistening and the remnants of your first orgasm all over her chin.

“already? you’re done?” she asks, out of breath herself, and her eyes blown out now.

“n-no i just need a second.”

“that’s not what the deal was. don’t push me away again unless you really want me to stop. because i will.” she pants, her head lowering again.

opting to say nothing and save yourself you’re biting your lip so hard that you’re sure it’ll draw blood. 

paige begins lapping at your cunt again, intending to leave nothing behind. you feel her using two of her fingers to part your folds, ensuring that the tip of her tongue would reach every inch of you.

those same fingers circle your hole teasingly, only to slip in with ease.

your throat burns from how vocal you’ve already been, but that doesn’t stop you from whimpering when you feel paige’s digits knuckle deep in you.

“you’re so deep baby, fuck! j-just like that i–“ whatever else you were gonna say dies on the tip of your tongue when paige curls her fingers upwards. 

without pulling her fingers from you she rises from her knees slightly, wanting to watch you come undone for a second time.

“i think i know this pussy better than you do, what do you think?” paige asks, groaning at the end of her sentence when she feels how you clench around her fingers.

“yes! yes, yes, yes!” that’s the only thing you can come up with, her fingers are jamming against that spongy spot inside you over and over. you can’t think.

“give me one more, i know you can.” she demands, not at all considering that you’d deny her that.

you open your eyes for a split second and immediately close them when you see her already looking right back at you. 

“i-i can’t p! please.” you plead, already sure that your second orgasm was seconds away.

“take it.”

and you do, almost knocking her over with the way your lower body starts to thrash around.

thankfully she’s grounded, and much stronger than you. when she catches herself she had to hold you down until your orgasm started to subside.

in the midst of finishing you have no idea what you’re saying but it doesn’t matter, paige knows she’s doing everything just right.

she slips her fingers out of you and watches your cunt intently and it contracts around nothing at all. 

she can feel how wet she is herself and realizes that as much as she’s enjoying watching you fall apart, she needs to hurry up and fuck you because she had half a mind to cum in her pants.

noticing how your breathing starts to return to normal, she’s quick to leave the bed. 

you feel her get up, but you don’t question it. opening your eyes and blinking to adjust to the light in the room. failing to realize just how spent you were, tears blur your vision. you don’t even remember crying.

but when your eyes land on paige approaching the bed again, you easily spot the addition that she’s carrying.

her strap.

your stomach is hot once again, and you do your best to avoid eye contact. but it doesn’t matter because she’s quick to grab you by your chin forcing you to look at her.

“we’re not done, and i know you can. so i don’t wanna hear it.”

not trusting any real words to leave your mouth if you had opened it, you gulp. pleading to the girl in front of you with just your eyes.

she’s standing at full height over your body, the silicone hanging on her hips. you feel yourself getting antsy, itching to satisfy her in whatever way you could.

you ignore your limbs screaming in exhaustion and struggle to kneel in front of her. you sit there for a second, staring. again stuck on how annoyingly good she looked in that damn hat.

“well?” she urges, clearly growing impatient with you. “it’s not gonna suck itself.”

you take her in your hand, now angled towards your parted lips. 

it’s heavy when it hits your tongue and you moan at the familiar feeling, the vibrations traveling straight to paige’s clit.

gradually taking inch by inch into your mouth you don’t stop until you’re gagging, your nose meets the base of the harness. paige’s hand is in your hair, assisting you in bobbing your head up and down her cock just the way she liked it.

she lets out the occasional sigh of satisfaction, cooing at the way you look up at her with tears in your eyes. she thrusts forward until the tip hits the back of your throat. 

more tears.

“you look so pretty like this.” she confesses, the hand in your hair moving to cradle your cheek. but she thrusts into your mouth again, throwing her head back at the gurgling sound that leaves you.

forcing you to pull off of her with a pop she guides you to sit on your knees fully before nodding her head and singling for you to turn over.

a small puff of air leaves your lips when you’re flush against the mattress in the new position and you don’t even need her to ask you anything else before you’re rising onto your hands and knees, back arched.

“good girl.” she hisses, her hand coming down hard on your ass cheek. 

you gasp, body jolting at the contact. but you can’t help the way you wait for another one. getting off on the sting as long as paige was the one inflicting it.

she’s leaning over your body until her front is pressed against your back and her mouth is right next to your ear.

“i know you like this shit, that’s the only reason why i do it.” she starts, spanking you again before she keeps talking. “i love you enough to fuck you like i hate you.”  she kisses your neck. it’s hot, wet. and when she pulls away you already miss the feeling of her lips there.

you whine, pressing your hips back to grind against her. this earns you one final spank, and she laughs this time when your body jerks forward.

when the tip of her is prodding at you, your mouth waters at the familiar feeling.

you choke on a sob when she thrusts forward once, immediately bottoming out. your two previous orgasms made the intrusion painless.

she only pulls back and forces her hips forward twice before her pace picks up, and you have to fight to hold yourself up.

“swallowing this shit whole, damn.”

“i-it feels so good, p! fuck– you’re perfect.” you ramble, just caught up in how deep you could feel her.

“maybe i should take a picture, so you can look back at it later?”

you moan, almost nodding too. not even sure what you could’ve possibly said in response.

“yeah? you like that? need you to remember just how good i fuck you, since you were begging for it so bad.” 

her hands are on your hips for leverage and now she’s plowing into you. you feel your tits beneath you  with each strike of her hips on your rear.

paige is holding out, but barely. the end of the toy that’s inside of her is the relief she finally needed. each time her hips meet yours her clit throbs a little more. 

when you hear how she’s struggling to hold in her own noises you look over your shoulder.

“like what you see?” she pants, words punctuated with a thrust.

“p-paige, i don’t know how much longer i–.” you basically plead, reaching down to fondle your clit with trembling fingers.

“doesn’t matter. take it.”

your head lulls forward, and you almost topple over at the force in which she was fucking you.

when she angles her hips slightly you have to claw at the sheets attempting to pull yourself together. the moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic.

you’re a babbling mess, begging to cum and shaking your head from side to side, knowing it was zero use.

you didn’t want her to stop, so she wasn’t going to.

“am i fucking you dumb, baby?” she groans, throwing her head back when she notices you reaching down to play with your clit.

she can’t tell if you’re nodding or if she’s just fucking you that hard and you can’t stop your head from bobbling, but she loves it.

“i know you’re almost there, c'mon. give it to me.” she says, close enough to the edge herself.

and you don’t need her to say much else before your head is buried into the mattress and you’re crying out for her like she’s not right behind you.

a puddle of spit grows beneath you due to the fact that you can’t keep your mouth closed.

her thrusts slow but they don’t still, and at this point you think you’re gonna pass out.

“pussy’s so pretty, just begging for more and more. no matter how much you swear you’re done.” paige pants, her hands leaving your hips and she pulls out of you before turning you over on your back again. 

she uses her strap to slap your clit that’s as swollen as ever.

you try to shut your legs once more but her hands force them open.

then she takes two of her fingers, coating them in the mess leaking from you and brings them to her lips.

your mouth falls open in disbelief, and she winks at you before pulling her fingers from her mouth.

she leans down, and you know she wants you to taste yourself. when her lips meet yours you moan into her mouth, her tongue shoved between your lips immediately.

you feel greedy, sucking on her tongue and you don’t know if you’re trying to taste more of your cum on her lips or just so eager to finally get another kiss from her.

she pulls back from the kiss abruptly with a smack. of course she’s smiling, full of herself. both of you have swollen lips and chins that show with a mixture of saliva and the rest of your release from before.

then she’s sitting beside you, her hands on your legs before she forces you on top of her. 

you feel like dead weight but she can handle it.

“gotta give me one more baby, i want you to ride it.” she utters, her voice is low and she’s clearly not asking, but telling you what’s about to happen.

you weakly plant your knees on the sides of her hips, your thighs already burn, your cunt is puffy and still coated with the remnants of a few minutes ago.

“last one, you promise?” you plead, your head so heavy that when you lift it to fully look at her your neck aches.

“promise.” she chuckles, helping you situate yourself over the tip of the strap once more. 

you can’t help the way that your hands push her shirt up, revealing her toned abdomen. you tut in disbelief at just how perfect she was, biting your lip.

before you can sink down she places a hand on your hip, stopping you.

you look up at her in a mix of confusion and protest. just as eager for her to be inside of you as she was.

then you watch her lift her head from the mattress, just so that she could remove the infamous hat from her head. only for her to place it on yours.

your cheeks feel hot, and you’re waiting for her to signal you to sink down onto her. 

all it takes is a tilt of her chin before you’re lowering yourself slowly, hissing at the feeling and then throwing your head back when you realize just how deep inside you could feel her.

the burn is intense, but it sets your body on fire in a way that is indescribable. you swore you could feel the tip of her strap kissing your ribs.

careful not to let the hat fall off of your head you hold onto it by the brim with one hand, starting to rock your hips.

paige wasn’t going to rush you this time. she just wanted to watch you use her to get off.

“you look–fuck, b-better in it than i do.” she managed to say, stuttering when she felt her puffy clit being shoved against the part of the harness that was currently connecting both of you.

“doubt it.” you groan, already starting to feel that familiar heat in your gut for the fourth time tonight.

paige’s hands are gripping your hips, ensuring that you keep a steady rhythm. her moans were getting louder, breathier, and they mixed with yours to echo off the walls. 

you know you’re making a mess on her when you feel  your ass getting wetter and wetter everytime it meets the base of her cock.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby. f–fuck, you’re a pro. my pro.” 

every bit of praise from her lips is fueling you to bounce faster, and grind your hips down harder.

“my good girl.” she whispers, watching how your eyes squeeze shut. you’re riding her like your life depends on it. 

just like she wanted.

“i-i’m close p..i’m so close baby, shit!” you cry, reaching down to grab her hand and place it on your chest. she doesn’t need you to say anything else before she’s tweaking your nipples in each of her hands, reeling in the way your body reacts to such a little thing.

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl.” she practically begs, knowing that the moment you’re gone, so is she.

those last two words are enough for you. your entire body goes numb, the pleasure coating you from head to toe. you can tell paige is cumming too just from the way that her hands fly back down to your hips and hold you there, ensuring that the end of the toy that’s inside of her continues to press against that spot that both of you know all too well.

you look down to where the two of your bodies meet and you have to look away, knowing that this could go on all night until you were physically unable to move anymore.

you fall forward onto her, not pulling the strap out of you just yet. needing to marinate in all that had just happened. 

when you do finally lift your hips until it falls from between your folds, both you and paige are watching as it smacks onto her stomach, your release glistening on her skin.

she has to assist you in laying next to her, but does it nonetheless. you help her in removing the harness from her hips and you toss it off to the side, just wanting to be tangled up with her already.

you feel yourself grinning when she places her arm around you, realizing that the hat was still on your head.

you didn’t dare lift your hand to remove it, and neither did paige. clearly you both had enjoyed it quite a bit, maybe even too much. 

regardless of who it was on.

[cinnasite]

SOS #needthatstrap

꩜ pairing: modern!au abby anderson x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content (mean dom abby yum), language

꩜ word count: 1.4k

꩜ synopsis: you sent the photo on impulse—aching and desperate for your girlfriend. but hours pass with no reply. when abby finally comes home, you learn the hard way that silence doesn’t mean she’s ignoring you. it means she’s about to make you regret everything.

You know Abby’s busy.

She’d warned you in the morning—it was the last day of her internship, packed with back-to-back presentations, and there would be a routine debrief with her supervisor before she’s finally free—with a raised brow, clearly apprehensive of you pulling something like this.

You’d wished her good luck. Specially woken up early to prepare her favourite lunch.

But by three in the afternoon, your hands are down your panties, lip caught between your teeth, and you're taking the most risque selfies on the bed you both share. The sheer lace bralette does absolutely nothing to hide your perky nipples, your thighs spread just wide enough to show how needy you are.

You’ve been behaving so well for Abby, happily sending her off to work for almost a month as if you weren’t thinking of convincing her to stay home every day just so you could eat her out to your heart’s content. Simply put, you were extremely pent-up. Could anyone honestly blame you?

Snapping yourself out of your distracting thoughts and bringing your attention back to your phone, you decide to send the photo you deem best with a satisfied chuckle. 

You: [one attachment] You: wish you were here abs  You: she misses you sm she’s dripping all over :(

You toss the device aside and giggle in glee. Anticipating your girlfriend’s equally naughty reciprocation lights an incessant fire beneath your skin and you shiver as your imagination overwhelms you. However, you’re stunned to find that it’s been more than two hours without so much as a reply. Not even a “read”. No form of acknowledgement whatsoever. 

You huff. Pace the apartment, beyond frustrated. Bury your face in her hoodie and get needier, if possible. You end up back in bed, still wet, still wound tight—and that’s exactly how Abby discovers you when she unlocks the door just past eight.

God, she looks delicious. She always does. Her hair is tied back, button-down sleeves rolled up the way you like it. Her chest heaves a little like she sprinted to get to you as quickly as she could. The thought, frankly, makes you burn.

Her furious eyes land on you in a second: sprawled on the mattress, nothing but that same torturous lace on, the vibrator on the sheets beside you, and a hint of slick glistening between your legs. You notice how her jaw clenches momentarily and your pulse quickens.

She doesn’t speak at first, only stalks to the bed like she’s been aching all day to wreck you. “You think that was funny, sweetheart?” she mutters as she shrugs her bag off and kicks her shoes away. “Sending... that while I was in a room full of people?”

Your mouth parts to answer but she’s already got your thighs in her hands, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Her sudden actions make you squeak in surprise.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself. I couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t speak. Had to excuse myself just to sit in a bathroom stall and remember how to fucking breathe.”

Her mouth crashes into yours without warning—hot, rough, claiming—and she wastes no time. Fingers slide down your clothed slit, already drenched, and you feel her smirk against your lips.

“This for me, huh? Just from clicking some nudes?”

"Abby, I—"

You don’t get to finish your sentence.

Because two fingers are already shoving your panties aside and sliding inside you, knuckle-deep, curling just right. You cry out and clutch her biceps, but Abby's relentless. She doesn’t spare you a chance to get used to the stretch. Only pushes your thighs open, plants one palm on your hip to hold you down, and fucks you on her fingers hard and fast.

“You wanted this,” she nearly growls, thumb brushing your clit with every thrust. “You wanted me so bad you couldn’t even wait. Look at you—already about to come. I haven’t even done anything yet, baby.”

You try to speak, eyes glassy, but your voice is utterly broken. You’re so, so close, it physically hurts.

“Say it,” she demands, breathing ragged. “Say whose pussy this is.”

"Y-Yours, Abby!"

And you shatter. She doesn’t let you shy away. Doesn’t let you hide your face or recover. Her teeth are on your throat, biting down, one hand dragging off her pants while the other pulls the harness from the drawer like it’s muscle memory.

“Up,” she orders, and you barely register your own self moving—lying back as she straps in, thick and mean-looking and sexy. You’re sure your legs are jelly at this point.

She smoothly slides back between them, guides the strap to your fluttering hole, and thrusts in hard.

You scream from the unexpectedness of it all. It might be hard to believe for most, but Abby was a sweet lover. She’d braid your hair whenever you asked, bring you whatever you were craving at four in the morning if you so wished and she always looked out for you constantly. That sincere care and consideration carried into the bedroom as well—touching you reverently, whispering praises into your skin and prioritising your pleasure and comfort.

Tonight, you realised with a shaky inhale, you had unleashed something primal within her.

She pounds you like she owns you, hips slapping against yours, her toned frame keeping you in place while she works your clit in harsh, tight circles. You’re already overstimulated, but Abby doesn’t give a shit.

“Should’ve been patient,” she pants right into your ear, sweat dripping from her temple. “Should’ve behaved like a good girl instead of teasing me like a fucking slut.”

You moan at her words, growing dizzy, grabbing at the sheets like they’ll anchor you through this. “Look at me,” she hisses through her teeth, and you do. What you see in her eyes ruins you even more: hunger, want, love, masked in heat and dominance.

Your orgasm hits you again, more intense, thighs clamping around her hips as she fucks you through it. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you’re absolutely spent.

But, apparently, Abby isn’t.

She pulls out with an embarrassingly loud squelch and grips your waist with bruising strength. In spite of her actions, she presses an affectionate peck to your nose, wordlessly communicating that she’d never hurt you.

“Your turn, baby.”

You barely make sense of her statement, but your body automatically reacts. It always does.

She lies back, muscles taut, and you can’t resist dragging your tongue along the vast expanse of her torso. She lets out a pleasant “oh”, gently fisting your hair before pulling you to sit where she wants you. You climb onto her lap, legs already shaking from the strain.

“You wanted it so bad, right?” she tilts her head mockingly, one hand trailing up your spine. “Then fucking ride me.”

You pout, shimmering tears threatening to spill over, “Abs, I’m sorry. I-I can’t—It’s too much—”

“You can and you will. Now, shut that pretty mouth up and get to it.”

You lower yourself down with a sniffle, inch by inch, and the sensation turns your brain into mush—too thick, too good—but you do it anyway. Because you need her. Because you want her like you’ve never wanted anything else.

Abby watches you with feral eyes, fingers inching slowly to wrap around your throat as you start to move. The grind of it has you screaming, overstimulation crackling through every nerve.

“God, fuck,” she groans, hips lifting just enough to meet yours. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s what you get for acting like a whore.”

You’re gasping, grinding harder just to hear the sounds she makes. You feel her touch roam your body, cupping your breast, slapping your ass a few times before fondling it languidly.

“Don’t stop till you come again,” she snarls, lips at your ear. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

And you don’t.

You jump up and down until your body gives out completely—until you’re collapsing forward in her arms, sobbing her name, a third climax crashing over you like a tsunami.

She holds you tight and kisses your temple. Rubs your back through the aftershocks. You wait for her to carry you to the bathroom and clean you up like she always does. But all that fills your vision is her predatory grin, low and wicked.

“Oh, no, baby,” she murmurs, leaning down to tangle her tongue with your own, biting your bottom lip between her words. “You didn’t think we were done, did you? You’re not getting away till you’ve ruined the sheets and can’t say anything but my fucking name.”

That’s exactly what she does. Fucks you until you’re babbling incoherently and can’t move by the end of it, too ruined to make sense of your surroundings.

All because of one photo. 

Maybe… you’ll send ten more tomorrow.

[flimsy-roost]

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[lilhughesy]

Yours Truly | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gross."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ping!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffled, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, use my hand if you need.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gave him a small nod, “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, “Truly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you Lukey”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

“Need help, Bear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged, “We grew up together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed, “I’m so hungry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

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

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

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

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

Luke.

And her.

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t. Instead, you shift uncomfortably, nodding along with Dylan’s joke, but it’s hollow. You laughed only because it feels like the right thing to do while you tried to distract yourself. It was obvious you’re not really paying attention to anything around you.

And then, of course, you met his eyes. His blue eyes.

Across the crowded room, through the colourful lights and the haze of smoke from people’s vapes and pens, your eyes locked. For a split second, time seemed to slow down. It’s just Luke. Just you. And the rest of the world is a blur. You swallowed hard, unsure of what he was thinking. His face doesn’t show surprise, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.

Then the moment’s over, Luke doesn’t look back at you again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the blonde, who laughed louder than before, and you feel something sharp twist in your gut. You forced yourself to look away, forcing yourself to stop thinking about how things used to be so simple between the two of you. How his attention used to be yours, how you didn’t have to share him with anyone other than his brothers and your parents.

Later into the night, when you’re getting another drink, you spot him across the room again. This time, he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, you could feel his eyes following your movements. His gaze is fixed on you, his expression was unreadable, but you can feel the weight of it on your skin. But you don’t go over to him and you don’t approach. You just stand there for a moment, breath caught in your throat, before you walked away.

You’re not sure how to feel, a part of you wanted to scream at him for even looking at her the way he does. For laughing with her and ditching you at a party. For acting like the last few months when it was just the two of you, sitting together in dorm rooms or late nights at the library, talking about everything and nothing, hadn’t been real. But another part of you, the one that really knows him, tells you it doesn’t mean anything. He’s just doing what he’s always done: being Luke. Being charming. Being the guy who has the drawing confidence that pulls people towards him without him even trying.

But then why was it hurting so much?

You hated the part of you that feels possessive, the part that wants him all to yourself. You never felt this way before, you always knew that he was there for you no matter what. You never had to worry that he would put someone else before you, because it had always just been you and Luke. Disregarding your previous boyfriends, Luke was always there to support you, keep you company, and to comfort you.

Does he even see you the way you see him?

You’ve never been good at saying what you feel, not when it matters or when it comes to big emotions like the ones you’ve been feeling. Maybe it’s better that way. Because if you let yourself admit what’s been building inside you for months, maybe it would destroy everything. Or maybe it’s already too late for that. Now, more than ever, you really wished that you could sit down with your mom or even Quinn to get their advice. 

The week after the party feels like walking through fog. Everything is there, but it’s hazy, unclear, the edges softened by an almost unbearable sense of distance. You told yourself that it’s just because you’re both busy studying, he had hockey practices, socials that you don’t really want to go to, but feel obligated to attend. But the truth, buried beneath all the distractions, is that the distance is because of him. You’d been pushing him away because you were scared, after feeling the strong jealousy at the party and seeing him with another girl in his arms, you were scared. You still spent time with him but you kept a small distance, shorter responses, calculated laughs, and avoiding any intimate moments with him. 

Luckily, Luke knew you and he kept his distance from you. He knew that you must’ve been going through something, but he wouldn’t pressure you into telling him. He knew you would come around eventually, so he let the distance between you two grow.  

Every time you pass him in the hall, the hollow ache in your chest grows stronger, and no matter how much you try to bury it, the jealousy, the longing, it’s always there, just lurking beneath the surface. You see him in the distance, talking to a group of his teammates, laughing too easily with them, and for a moment, you can almost convince yourself that it’s just a harmless crush and how it’s just a phase that will pass. But you know better.

The sharp pangs of something more make it hard to breathe.

He’s so close, and yet, he's always so far away.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, when your feelings started shifting, when the walls you’d built to protect yourself started to crumble. Was it that first time he looked at you, really looked at you, like he saw you as something more than just his friend that he grew up with? Or was it the countless nights, sitting together in his dorm room, laughing over different stupid things, sharing moments you never let anyone else see? Maybe it’s the way his hand brushed against yours, a casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive, or the way his gaze lingered on you just a second too long when he thinks you aren’t looking that made your skin heat up.

The worst part of all of it, was that he seemed so unaware of it and of you. Of the way you’ve been falling for him, little by little, while he remained oblivious to the quiet chaos building inside you. And now, for the first time in your life, you’re not too sure how to act around him. You couldn’t just go back to being the friend you’ve always been, treating him as the same little blonde Lukey that you knew since you were in diapers, because he wasn’t the same as back then. You both grew up, with him becoming an elite hockey player that everyone knew on campus and you were just his childhood friend. But the thought of telling him what had been slowly eating away at you, felt like the most dangerous thing you could do. The risk of losing him completely terrified you.

Tonight was no different, you’re sitting in the library, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead barely enough to drown out the thoughts that were racing through your mind. The place is nearly empty, except for a few scattered students, their heads buried deep in their textbooks. You’re across from Luke again, his hockey gear bag sprawled carelessly beside his chair, his legs stretched out under the table as he typed away at his phone.

You hated how easily he could just turn off everything. He has this ability to compartmentalize, to separate the world from what’s happening in his head. He’d been like this for a while now, confident, composed, a natural at deflecting whatever chaos might be around him.

And you... you’re sitting here, fully aware that the only thing you can focus on was him. How his hair falls over his forehead, how he had been letting his curls grow out, how his shoulders slumped slightly in the chair, how he seemed so at ease even when everything feels like it’s falling apart for you.

Your eyes drifted over to him as he put down his phone, leaning back in his chair with a small sighing exhale. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he could see what you were feeling. But he just smiled at you, that easy, carefree crooked grin that he’s always had since he was a toddler. The one that makes your heart stutter and skip a couple of beats.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Bear,” Luke said, his voice low, but playful. He doesn’t seem to notice how much his words sting, how much it hurts to hear him act like everything is fine when it’s anything but.

You nodded, forcing a smile, “Just trying to get through this stupid twenty page reading, you know how it is.”

He laughed softly, the sound was familiar and comforting. However, there’s a sense of something off in his tone, a subtle edge to it that caught your attention, “I don’t know how you do it, with studying all the time and putting your life into school.”

Your chest tightened at the words, you wonder if he even saw what you’re really struggling with. How much you’re holding back just to keep up the act and how your recent hyperfixation on studying was only a way to avoid confronting your feelings. 

“You’ve got other things to worry about,” You told him, forcing the words past the ball in your throat, “I mean, like being the best hockey player on campus?”

Luke smirked, a glimmer of pride flashed in his eyes, “I guess so, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count as an academic achievement. I’m lucky that my best friend is also my personal tutor.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful energy, but inside, you’re a mess. You wanted to tell him that it’s more than that, that you’re not just his best friend. But you don’t. You can’t. Not yet.

Instead, you settled into the silence between you, putting your focus back to your textbook, since it’s all you can do to keep your hands from shaking. He’s sitting there, so close, but it feels like miles of space is between you.

As if by some cruel twist of fate, you saw her again, the blonde. The same one from the party. She walked into the library, head held high, and as she passed your table, not even glancing at you as she offered him a flirtatious smile. He grinned back, a little too easily.

Your stomach clenched with the kind of discomfort you can’t ignore bubbling up, an unspoken reminder of everything you had been avoiding. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter, that he’s allowed to talk to whoever he wanted, that you don’t have a claim over him. But the jealousy still crawled up your throat, and it was thick and suffocating.

You looked away, pretending to focus on your MacBook, but all you could think about is how easily she can just walked into his world, how easily she could claim a piece of him, a piece of the person you’ve always tried to protect.

For a moment, you hated her. You hated how effortlessly she fits into this world that’s always felt just out of reach for you. How she didn’t have to worry about ruining a lifelong friendship and being able to have him as something more. You hated that you wanted to be the one who gets to talk to him like that. To have him look at you, like you were the only girl to walk the Earth. 

The walls you had been building this time were crumbling, and the worst part was that you told yourself that it was all your fault. That you let yourself get this attached and that you let yourself care. But the more you saw him with other people, the more you realized that you didn’t even know who you were when you’re not with him. You didn’t know how to be just his friend anymore.

You wanted to say something, and you wanted to reach across the table and tell him everything you had been holding inside. You wanted to tell him how much it was hurting you and how it was slowly breaking you to pretend like you don’t care. But you couldn’t, not when you’re on the edge of something that could ruin everything.

You and Luke walked back to your dorms that night, in a comfortable silence. The February snow falling slowly and landing on your hair, “You okay?” Luke asked you, even though he knew you wouldn’t give him a truthful answer.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “Just been tired lately.”

He nodded slowly, “You’ve been a bit distant lately, you sure you’re okay?”

You hummed, “Just midterm stress getting to me, you know.”

Luke sighed, running a hand through the mess of his curls, “Okay, just cut yourself some slack and don’t overstres yourself, Bear” 

“I know, Lukey.”

You said your goodnights before entering your dorm, you relaxed into your bed after getting ready for the night as you pulled out your phone and dialling the number to the person you’d been meaning to talk to, he picked up after the second ring.

“Hey, Quinn,” You mumbled, “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

He chuckled, “No, you’re good. I’m just making dinner right now, what’s up?”

You sunk further into your mattress, holding the phone to your ear, “Just need to talk to someone with emotional intelligence.”

“You okay?” He asked you, you could hear the tinge of concern in his voice, “Is this about Lukey? Or is there some other guy that I don’t know about”

“It’s about Luke,” You said, almost a wave of relief in your voice from finally being able to talk to Quinn, “I think I’m falling hard for him, and he’s been kind of seeing this other girl that he met at some party. And it’s been kinda killing me.”

You could basically hear the frown in his voice, “Lukey’s been talking to another girl?”

You hummed a small response, “She’s really pretty.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Quinn told you with amusement laced in his voice, “There’s no way Luke is actually talking to a girl who isn’t you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s had the biggest crush on you for years, he’s just been too scared to do anything about it,” Quinn chuckled, “I promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Bear, you both need to just take the leap of faith.”

“I just don’t want to lose him, Quinn,” You confessed to him, “He’s literally my other half, I don’t know who I would be without him.”

“And he feels the exact same way about you,” He reassured you with the same comfort in his tone that he always had when talking to you, “It will work out, Bear. Don’t stress yourself too much over it.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The night air was crisp, a slight chill that bit at your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable. Not when you’re wrapped in Luke’s UMich hockey hoodie that was a few sizes too big for you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faint scent of ice and detergent still lingered on the fabric. You sat on the same bench outside the Yost Arena, the one under the flickering streetlight. It’s always a little unreliable, flashing once before settling into its usual steady glow. The rink itself is quiet now, save for the hum of campus around you, like the calm after the storm of the game.

You spotted Luke before he saw you, his large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, curls damp from the shower, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of the game. There’s always an energy about him after a game, restless, electric, but tonight it’s different. Something else is weighing on him, and you could feel it, even from where you sat.

He didn’t notice you right away. His eyes scanned the area, distant, lost in his thoughts, until they finally landed on you. He hesitated for a second before his usual crooked half-smile appeared, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time.

“You made it,” He breathed out, his voice softer than usual.

You nodded with a small teasing grin, “Did you think I wouldn’t? I always come to your game, Lukey. I have to come support my favorite idiot.”

He chuckled, dropping his bag beside the bench near your feet, “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you’d come with the stress you’d been going through,” His eyes glanced to the ground for a moment, then back up to you, something in his gaze shifted, “You know, with midterms and being distant lately,”

You feel your chest tightened at his words, you’ve wondered for a while now if Luke’s had noticed you pulling away. How you were like a thousand miles away and lost in your own thoughts, even when he’s sitting right next to you. 

He tried to ignore it, but it’s been hard. It’s like you have been retreating into yourself, and he didn’t know how to reach you. He worried that it was something that he did to you even though he couldn’t exactly put a finger on it… Until it sunk in, how he had been hanging out with that blonde since the party and how he caught your eyes from across the room and how he saw the wave of hurt wash over your face. How he had been spending time with that girl while you buried yourself in studying, just so that you could help him understand the class material better. 

“I came because I still care,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but this didn’t feel like the conversation you had in mind when you showed up tonight, only expecting the typical small conversation about his game as the two of you walked back to your dorms like normal. The nervous energy that hung between you both is palpable, and you wonder if he could feel it too.

He ran his hand through his curls while he looked away, his jaw tightened, “I don’t know what’s going on with me and you lately,” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, the knot in your stomach tightening at his words, “I’m not sure if you felt it too but things between us have been changing,”

Luke looked at you again, his expression was unreadable, “I never meant to push you away or hurt you by talking to that girl, I just-” He hesitated, as if he’s weighing his next words in his head, “I didn’t know how to deal with everything I’ve been feeling and I didn’t want to risk hurting you or anything or losing our friendship.”

His words left you breathless, you knew that you had been distant because of your own feelings and you remembered what Quinn had told you over the phone but hearing him say it out loud makes the weight of it sink in.

You tried to shake off the sudden rush of emotions in your chest, “For whatever it’s worth, I’m still here and been next to you since we were born,”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he gave you that small smile that had always been reserved for you, the one that has always made your heart race. He sat down beside you on the bench, close but not quite touching..

“Thanks for being here,” He murmured, “I don’t deserve it, not after putting you through that.”

You smiled, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over your hands for extra warmth from the chills of March, “You don’t have to deserve it, I’m here because I want to be.”

For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound is the soft rustling of branches in the breeze. You tried to ignore the tension between you, but it’s hard to shake. Luke seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the stone path ahead of you two.

Out of nowhere he spoke up again, his voice low but steady, “There’s this moment, right before a face-off,” He said, the familiar intensity in his voice, “Everything goes still. The crowd, the pressure, even your own thoughts. It all just kinda… locks in. You know something big is about to happen, like you can feel it.”

You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing. His blue eyes are intense, focused, but there’s something vulnerable about him tonight. He’s not the confident hockey player you’ve always known. Tonight, he’s just Luke, the same Luke that carried your  backpack every day when you injured your shoulder, the same Luke that held you while you cried after being broken up with, and the same Luke that saw you for the first time in your prom dress.

“That’s how I feel right now,” Luke continued as his voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

The words hit you harder than you expected, you’ve never seen him this serious, you don’t breathe while you held the air in your throat.

He shifted, turning to face you fully, “We’ve been in each other’s lives forever, like since literal birth. You were there before the skates, before the first team tryout, before I ever touched a puck. You've seen every part of me, even the parts I wanted no one else to see,” He hesitated, his eyes never left yours, “And somehow, you stayed.”

Your heart was pounding, but it’s not from confusion or fear. It’s from something else, something you’re not sure you’re ready for, but it’s here, it’s real.

“I don’t know when exactly it changed,” Luke told you before taking a deep breath, “But I know what it is now and I think I’ve known for a while and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I love you, Bear. And not like a best friend, not like someone who’s always been around. I love you in the way that terrifies me, but also makes complete sense in my head. Like it is what I was made for.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words leave you breathless, and the world around you seemed to stand still. You’ve known Luke for so long, but at this moment, everything became so real. All the emotions and feelings that you had been running away from, shoving down, all of it came surging at once.

As if the words aren’t enough, he leaned in closer to you with his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m yours. Always have been, yours truly.”

The moment hangs in the air, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of everything he’s said, the vulnerability, the emotions, and the truth pressed in on you. You finally found your voice, your words soft and filled with a mix of affection and disbelief,

 “You really are an idiot,” You said with slight amusement in your tone. Luke furrowed his brows in confusion, and you laughed, a soft and relieved sound, “I’ve been in love with you since you let me wear your jersey in freshman year of highschool and then acted like it didn’t mean anything,” 

His eyes widened in disbelief, “Wait, what?”

“You thought you were the only one feeling like this?” You grinned, leaning closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”

Before he could respond, you kissed him.

It’s slow at first, like both of you are testing the waters, unsure but sure at the same time. Luke’s hand curled around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let you go. The kiss deepened and it’s messy, but it’s everything.

When you pulled away, your head spinned from the intensity of it. You rested against his shoulder, his arm easily slipping around your waist.

“Took you long enough, Lukey,” You teased but with affection.

He chuckled softly, his face buried in your hair, “Yeah, but I figured it out, didn’t I?”

And just like that, the world falls into place. The quiet is no longer waiting. It’s where you were always meant to be. The cold still lingers in the air, but it no longer matters. You’re wrapped in the warmth of Luke’s arms, his presence filling the space between you both in a way that makes everything else feel irrelevant. For a few moments, you simply sit there, letting the silence wrap around you like a blanket. The world feels far away and quieter now that the uncertainty that had been chewing away at you had been stripped away.

Luke’s arm is loosely around your waist, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles on your side. His warmth radiating onto you, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to pull away. The rush of everything that’s just happened is still swirling in your chest, but there’s something calming about being here with him now, like this was the only place you were meant to be all along.

“You’re quiet,” Luke mumbled after a while, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s still processing everything too, “I didn’t expect you to- well, I didn’t expect that after my game.”

You chuckled softly, your head still resting against his shoulder, your heart fluttering at the realization that he’s with you like this, “What? You thought I’d just sit here and let you confess your undying love without me saying anything?” You joked, but the words feel different now. More genuine and more real.

Luke shifted slightly, his face turning toward yours. The seriousness in his gaze hasn’t gone away, but there’s something softer in it now, 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way. I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes and your hands found his, intertwining your fingers together. His touch grounded you like always, even when everything around you is shifting.

“Of course I do, Luke,” You replied, “I always have.”

He looked at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he’s trying to make sense of it all. There’s a quiet relief settling on his features, and it makes your heart ache in the best way possible.

“I’m not gonna lie,” He said after a long pause, his thumb lightly stroking the back of your hand, “I’m scared. I’ve always been scared that if I let myself get too close, I’d screw it all up.”

You smiled, the warmth spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hand, “You’re not the only one. I literally had to call Quinn about this, I’ve been terrified of this too, Lukey. But I think… maybe we’ve been scared of the wrong things all along.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been so afraid of messing things up that we’ve missed what’s been right in front of us. We’ve had all this time together,” You chewed the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words, “And yet, somehow, we’ve always been too afraid to take the next step.”

Luke’s gaze softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you, “I don’t want to mess this up, either. I don’t want to lose you.”

You rested your forehead against his, the closeness, the rawness of the moment pulling at something deep inside you, “You won’t lose me, Luke. You’re not going to. But we can’t keep pretending this thing between us isn’t real. It’s been real all along. Even when we’ve been scared. Even when we’ve been apart.”

He let out a long breath that seemed to release some of the tension he’d been holding. He kissed the top of your hair, “I’ve been such an idiot,” Luke mumbled.

You laughed quietly, looking up at him again, “Better late than never, right?”

Luke chuckled, the sound light and easy. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve heard him laugh without the weight of everything else hanging over him, “Yeah. Better late than never.”

But then, his expression grew serious again, and he pulled back slightly, still holding you but looking at you with that intensity that you’ve come to recognized as the Luke who can’t hide his emotions, even when he tried.

“I’ve been thinking about going home this weekend,” He said, almost hesitantly, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I need to get away for a bit. Just to clear my head. But I want to be honest with you, more than I’ve been in a long time.”

You nodded, understanding where this is going, “You’re planning on leaving?”

He bit his lip, clearly conflicted, “I think I need to. But I want you to know, this… like us, it’s not going anywhere. I don’t want to go home and leave things unsaid between us. I need to figure out… well, a lot of things. But not because I want to walk away, I just- I don’t want to mess this up, not when it’s finally real, I just need time.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands to urge him to look at you, “You won’t mess this up, Luke. Not with me. I know it’s scary, but we’ll figure it out. We always have. And if you need to go home, then go. But I hope you know that I’m here for all of it.”

Luke glanced at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, and then he nodded, the weight of the conversation settling in. He pulled you into another hug, it’s firm and comforting. The embrace is a promise of things unspoken, of a future you both want to build. When you pulled back, your faces are still close, your breath dancing in the cold night air. 

“Just come back to me,” You whispered, your voice barely above your breath.

“I will,” He promised, his forehead resting against yours, “I’ll always come back to you.”

The days after Luke’s confession feels like a quiet storm brewing. You’ve spent days texting back and forth, trying to find a rhythm again, but the distance he’s always hinted at is still there of being scared to commit to the full thing. He’d gone home for the weekend, as he said he would, and though you’re not surprised, it still feels like a void where his presence used to be.

You think about him often, about the way he held you under the dim glow of that streetlight, his words raw and honest in a way that shook you to your core, “I’m yours. Always have been. Yours truly.” You catch yourself grinning at the memory of it as his confession has been playing on a loop in your head since that night.

You sat in the small study area of your dorm, trying to focus on your biology textbook but found your mind wandering instead. It had been a few days off since the game. Your notes feel like a blur, and every text from Luke feels like a thread pulling you both back into a tangled mess of uncertainty. He’d become distant again, but this time, it felt different. He was holding back, not because of fear, but because he’s not sure how to navigate this new version of the two of you together. It bothered you a bit of how you two finally confronted your feelings but how Luke was so quick to run away from facing the future.

The door to your dorm opened and you looked up to see Lexie, your roommate, standing there, leaning against the frame with a look of amusement on her face.

“You okay?” She asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

You forced a small smile, “Yeah, just studying.”

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips, “Are you really studying? Or are you staring at your phone and thinking about someone in particular?”

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing. “Okay, maybe a little of both.”

Lexie stepped fully into the room and letting the door shut behind her, she sat across from you at the small desk.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but you’re both really not being subtle right now.”

“I’m just…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words, “I’m trying to figure out what this is, you know? I mean, we’ve been friends for literally forever and now things are different, but it’s not like I can just jump into a relationship. Not with everything that’s already happened.”

Lexie watched you closely as her eyes softened, “You’re both clearly so in love with each other, it’s almost painful to watch. Seriously, you said you’ve felt this way towards Luke since high school, and you two have been all flirty since we moved in. I don’t even know how many times he’s been here or you being in his dorm. What’s the hold-up?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I don’t know. I think we’re both still scared, Lexie. I mean, Luke’s been distant again and even though I get it, it’s hard. We’ve never been in this territory before.”

“I get it,” She told you, “But listen, don’t waste time. I can tell you this from watching you two since September, it’s been like eight months now: you are each other’s person. And sometimes the right person doesn’t make it easy, but they’re worth fighting for.”

The weekend passed slowly, Luke texted you a couple of times, letting you know he’s just spent time with Ellen and Jim, and how Mandy had stopped by to visit for a bit. He seemed distracted, but he assured you he was coming back soon. You responded, but each message feels like it’s adding more distance instead of closing the gap.

When Monday finally rolled around, you found yourself walking to Yost almost on autopilot. Your heart beated quicker with each step, you knew he was back today, but you’re not sure what to expect. What do you say after all the unspoken things that hang between you both? 

You saw him before he saw you, like always. Luke stood by the rink, talking to one of his Mark and Mackie with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. The moment your eyes met, something shifted. His posture straightened, and his expression softened, but there’s a hesitance in his movements. Like he’s unsure whether to close the distance between you or keep his distance just a little longer.

When you walked up to him, he greeted you with a small smile, his voice laced with a little bit of uncertainty, “Hey, Bear.”

“Hey,” You replied, you paused for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. It felt like you’re both treading carefully, afraid of stepping on the wrong thing, “How was home? How are Ellen and Jim?”

“It was good, they’re good and said they missed you,” He said with his tone flat, “Just needed some time, you know?”

You nodded, a knot forming in your stomach, “I was worried about you.”

Luke looked at you, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes which you couldn’t quite read, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pushing you away,” He admitted quietly, his hands now out of his pockets, rubbing the back of his jaw awkwardly, “I just… I needed some space to think about everything, about us.”

You swallowed hard as you tried to steady the storm of emotions rising inside of your chest, “Luke… I get it, but you can’t keep pulling away like that. We both know we can’t hide from this anymore.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, “I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve screwed up.”

You reached out to him and placed a hand on his arm, mainly to ground him and maybe to ground yourself,  “We don’t have to fix everything right away. But we can start with being honest with each other. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re not scared.”

Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration, but there’s a shift in him, something opens up in the way he looks at you, “I don’t want to mess this up again. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, I’ve said this to you before,” You told him, your voice firm and steady now, “But you can’t keep pushing me away, Luke. We’re both here. We’ve always been here.”

He stepped closer, the space between you both shrinking until his breath mingled with yours.

“I’m scared,” He said to you with raw honesty in his voice striking you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, “But I’m willing to figure it out. I’m willing to try, if you are.”

You smiled softly, your chest fluttered at his words, “I’m always going to be here for you, you know this.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re finally both on the same page, facing the unknown together. Whatever happens next, you know this, this is real. The days after that conversation feel different and almost lighter. The weight of everything unspoken seems to have shifted off your shoulders, and though the air between you and Luke is still thick with emotions, it’s a good kind of tension now. No longer is it the uncertainty of what could be; it’s the anticipation of what will be.

You saw him more now around campus, on the rink, in the dining hall and every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged with something new. Every glance lingered just a little longer, every smile felt a little deeper. Luke was trying, and you’re starting to believe in him again. 

It was a Saturday afternoon when it finally happened. The weather is crisp, with the kind of chill that bites at your cheeks but feels refreshing on the skin. You sat on a bench near the Yost arena, waiting for Luke to finish practice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced at the screen to see a text from him.

Lukey: Meet me outside in 10? I have something to say.

Your stomach fluttered with the sudden nervous excitement that you’ve been trying to suppress all day. You typed a quick response,

Bear 🧸: is this a “big talk” or more of a “let’s just hang out” thing?

You don’t expect him to reply fast, but less than a minute later, another message from him popped up.

Lukey: It’s big. So I guess we’ll see if you’re still willing to hang out with me after I say it.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You tossed your phone in your tote bag, standing up as you tried to shake off the nerves. A part of you wants to believe it’s going to be something good, but you can’t shake the uncertainty creeping in. What if it’s not what you think?

You don’t have to wait too long before you spot him walking towards you. Luke’s dressed in a sweatshirt, his hockey bag still clinging to him, his eyes locked on you like he’s been waiting for this moment too. When he reached you, there’s no hesitation in his movements. He stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace before you could even speak.

“Hey Bear,” He said, his voice softer than usual, “Are you by any chance still mad at me?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure?” He questioned and pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his brow furrowed in that worried way.

“Yeah,” You replied as you smiled at him, “Just trying to figure us out.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath. There’s a pause, a moment of silence that feels like it stretched for just a little too long, before Luke took your hands in his, holding them firmly, like he’s not going to let go until he’s said everything that’s been weighing on him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” He begins, his voice steady but quiet, “About us. About what happened before I left. And I’ve realized that, all this time, I’ve been too scared to admit it,” He hesitated, swallowing hard before looking at you, “That I want you. I want this with you. No more pretending.”

You could feel your heartbeat against your chest, the words you’ve been waiting for, hoping for, finally spilled from him. You tried to meet his gaze, but it’s hard with your heart pounding so loudly you felt like he could hear it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Luke continued, his hands squeezing around yours, “I want to be with you, for real,” He finished, the words slipping out with a kind of finality that makes your heart soar, “No more playing games or playing it safe, no more holding back.”

You blinked a couple of times as his words sank in, your chest full of emotions you can’t name. Your heart swells with relief, with joy, and with a kind of peaceful certainty that you never thought you’d get.

He stepped closer to you with his face inches from yours now. He paused, looking at you with a softness that’s unlike anything you’ve seen in him before.

“So,” He said with a slow smile forming, “Will you be my girlfriend? I know it’s a big question, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The word you’ve been waiting to hear. The official title. And all you can do is smile because, in that moment, nothing else matters.

“I’ll say yes,” You answered with a firm voice but filled with all the joy you can’t contain, “Since it seems to matter a lot to you.”

Luke grinned and rolled his eyes playfully, his hands slipped to your waist as he pulled you into a kiss for the first time since the two of you had initially confessed your feelings. It’s soft at first but then, as if something inside both of you clicked into place, it deepens, the kiss becoming more urgent, more sure, like this is the moment everything shifted. You’ve both crossed that line, the one between friendship and an official relationship, and neither of you were planning on looking back.

When you pulled away, breathless, Luke rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this, after everything.”

“You’re not the only one,” You mumbled, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “But I’m glad we are.”

The weeks after you and Luke officially got together are nothing short of magical. Every day feels like you’re discovering a new piece of him, and he’s doing the same with you. It’s not the whirlwind passion that you see in movies, it’s more like two best friends who’ve found their way back to each other in the most perfect of ways. It’s soft, slow, and steady.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you find yourselves in his dorm room. You’re sprawled across his bed, watching some random movie that neither of you really cared about. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist, and every now and then, his fingers lightly brushed against the bare skin of your side. It’s a touch so gentle it could’ve been accidental, but it sends a shiver of warmth through you every time.

Luke’s got a half-grin on his face, eyes flickering back and forth between the screen of his laptop and you, “You’re not even paying attention,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes but didn't move to correct him, “I’m watching, I swear.”

“You’re really not,” He paused the movie and turned to face you, his hand resting on your hip, pulling you just a little closer, “What’s your favorite movie then, and why are we not watching it?”

You laughed, glancing at him, half-cocked in mock exasperation, “You know that my favourite movie is Tangled, but we’ve already watched it this week. We’re not doing that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, “We could watch it again. I wouldn’t mind seeing you quote all the lines before the characters do.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you implying that I’m predictable?”

“No,” He replied, grinning wider now, “I’m saying you’re adorable.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and without thinking, you moved closer, your lips brushing lightly against his. It’s a soft, quick kiss, the kind that doesn’t need words. Just the closeness, the quiet moment between two people who’ve found their way to each other and are content in this simple intimacy.

He pulled away just barely, his smile never fading, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good,” You teased before you laughed.

“Very funny,” He deadpanned, “No, seriously. I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

Your stomach did a few flips in your gut, “What do you mean ‘all over again’?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “I mean, I’ve been in love with you since high school, but somehow, even though we’re finally together, every day with you feels like the first time I’m falling for you all over again.”

You smiled softly. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“I try,” He said before a sudden burst of confidence he added, “But seriously, I’m falling in love with you every single day, whether you notice it or not.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I think I notice. In every little thing you do.”

Luke pressed play on his movie, his fingers skimming your sides but he could feel your gaze on him,

“You’re staring at me,” He told you, not even looking up away from his screen. He doesn’t need to, he knows you too well. 

“I’m not staring,” You replied, trying to hide your smile, “I’m just… admiring.”

His eyes flickered down to meet yours, “Admiring what, exactly?”

“You,” You said with your voice quieter now, “Everything about you and how easy it is to love you.”

His expression softened and for a moment, he looked a little caught off guard. But then the corner of his mouth curls up in that signature crooked grin, “You’re gonna make me blush,” He teased, though there’s a glint of emotion in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“I’m just being honest.”

“I like when you’re honest,” He mumbled, “You’re the only one who really gets me. And it feels like you always have.”

You stared at him, taking in his curls that were once blonde fall over his forehead, his blue eyes that felt like home to you.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” He whispered and in this moment, with him holding you close, you know that love is made of the smallest, sweetest things.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You’ve never seen Luke look so relaxed.

One hand is loosely resting on the steering wheel, the other draped over the center console, fingers gently tangled with yours. The road stretched ahead in long, lazy lines of sun-drenched pavement, the kind of empty two-lane highway that hums like summer itself. His truck windows are rolled down, the breeze warm against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.

Your feet are tucked up on the seat, his hoodie wrapped around you despite the heat. You’re not cold, you just like how it smells like him. His cologne, the faint trace of detergent, the lingering scent of the rink, even now.

“You know we still have two more hours of this, right?” He said as he glanced over at you with that slow grin that made your stomach flip in the best way, “You’re gonna be sick of me before we even get to the lake house”

You scoffed, leaning your head against the window, still holding his hand, “Impossible. I have life long experience with putting up with you.”

“Putting up with me?” He faked offense, “I’ll have you know I’m a delight.”

“You snore.”

“You drool.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s a low blow.”

He squeezed your hand gently, “Just keeping us humble.”

You laughed as you settled deeper into the seat. The playlist you made together is shuffling through songs, some throwbacks from high school, some new favourites, and a handful that make both of you smile because they only make sense to the two of you. You hummed along to one of them, and Luke started to tap the steering wheel in rhythm, occasionally stealing glances at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

It’s been three months since you got together, even though it has felt so much longer. Since that night under the flickering streetlight outside the Yost, where he finally told you he was yours. And somehow, things haven’t just stayed good. They’ve grown. You’ve grown together. The rhythm you’ve fallen into felt easy now, almost natural. Like every version of your friendship would always just lead to this.

“So,” You started, glancing sideways at him, “You think the Mothers are going to be weird about us sharing a room?”

He raised a brow, “Jim let me start using the truck when I was sixteen. I think they trust us.”

You smirked, “They shouldn’t.”

He laughed with his tone being deep and genuine, the kind of sound that makes your chest feel lighter,  “You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace,” You replied.

That shuts him up in the best way. His smile lingered but his eyes softened, and his hand tightened around yours again. You don’t need him to say it, you could feel it.

The miles roll on like memories stitched together, stopping for gas at some random station with sticky floors and surprisingly good coffee, singing loudly and terribly to the songs on your playlists, and debates on whether hot dogs count as sandwiches. He tried to distract you each time you attempted to read the GPS on his phone, and you retaliated by playfully swatting his exploring hands away. At one point on the drive, he pulled over on a scenic overlook just so he could kiss you under the blue summer sky.

Eventually, the trees start to thicken, the air shifting from sun-warmed highways to something cooler, quieter. The lake isn’t in sight yet, but you can feel it and smell it in the pine needles and the earthy scent of the woods. It feels like the world is exhaling, and you’re part of that breath.

You looked over at him again, and for a moment, you didn't say anything. You just look. He has a faint sunburn along the bridge of his nose. His curls are messy from the wind but tucked away under his cap that he always wore. His t-shirt fitted his muscular chest and arms deliciously, and his mouth was curved in a quiet, content line. He looks so perfectly Luke.

“What?” He asked as he glanced at you.

You shook your head, “Nothing. Just… happy.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Luke doesn’t look away, “Me too.”

There’s a long, warm silence that follows, the full and comfortable kind that only exists between people who know each other’s rhythms down to the pause between words. You reached over and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then rested your head there, letting the hum of the road and the quiet promise in his voice settled around you like a blanket.

Luke’s truck rolled slowly up the winding driveway, tires crunching over the familiar gravel path that leads to the lake house tucked deep in the woods of northern Michigan. The air smells like pine needles and sun-warmed water, like every summer memory you’ve ever had stitched into one quiet, golden moment.

You spotted the house just beyond the clearing, same soft blue siding, same sagging porch swing, same wind chimes dancing in the window. But today, everything feels more alive, because this time, you’re showing up not just as his childhood best friend.

This time, you’re coming as his girlfriend.

And both your families already know it, they saw the pictures you had posted on your Instagram.

The truck came to a gentle stop, and Luke killed the engine. He glanced sideways at you with that half-crooked grin that still makes your stomach flutter.

“You ready?” He asked you softly.

You nodded, “Are you?”

He exhaled, then smiled wider, “Yeah. Kind of feels like the end of one story and the start of the one we were always meant to be in.”

Before either of you can open your doors, the front screen door slammed open with a bang.

“They’re here!” Ellen called out with her voice familiar, warm, and joyful.

She’s already moving across the porch with her arms wide, your mom just a few steps behind her, equally glowing.

“My girl!” Ellen beamed as she pulled you into a tight hug that smells like lilacs and lemon and like the childhood you’ve known, “You finally made it.”

“You act like I haven’t been here every year since I was five,” You laughed, burying your face in her shoulder.

“But this is the first time you’re showing up with my Lukey’s hand in yours,” She whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, “It’s about time, sweetheart.”

“I’m not crying,” Mandy said behind Ellen, “I’m just so happy.”

You turned to hug her too, both of you laughing through the swell of emotion.

Jim and Steven come down the steps next, grinning like they’ve already had money on this (which all the parents did). They shook Luke’s hand, clapped him on the back, and pulled you both into what can only be described as a team huddle.

“Welcome back, Bear,” Jim said to you, “Your room’s still upstairs unless, of course, you two are bunking together now?”

“Dad!” Luke choked out which made everyone laugh at his bright red cheeks and ears.

“Don’t worry,” Your dad added, “We all knew this was coming. Your mothers started planning your wedding back in grade ten.”

You groaned and hid your face in Luke’s shoulder while he muttered, “We should’ve eloped.”

The door bursted open yet again and Luke’s brothers came storming out, both already shirtless and halfway through their beers.

“Look who finally figured it out!” Jack yelled, arms wide as he pulled you into a hug.

Quinn fist bumped Luke and then pulled you into a hug, “Happy for you guys.”

“Seriously,” Jack grinned, “The entire family knew this was coming before you two did.”

You glanced at Luke, who was just standing there, hand in yours, cheeks still flushed, watching everyone welcome you like they always have, but now with a tinge of celebration. Because this has always been the hope. The quiet, patient maybe someday that lived in the hearts of everyone who watched the two of you grow up side by side.

By the time the sun was low on the lake and dinner’s sizzling on the grill, you were barefoot on the back deck with a glass of lemonade in one hand and Luke’s fingers loosely twined through your other. Both families are mixed around the kitchen and patio, all joking, retelling old stories, stealing glances at the two of you that are so full of affection it almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

Later, when the stars came out and the lake smoothed over like glass, you and Luke sneaked away down to the dock. The same dock you’ve both jumped off a thousand times as kids. The same one where, last summer before the two of you moved to UMich, he nearly told you how he felt before backing out.

He sat beside you with an arm around your shoulders, the night humming soft and easy.

“Feels like this was always waiting,” He said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded while resting your head against him, “Feels like home.”

And from the porch behind the two of you, your parents and his, laughing over glasses of wine, watching the stars and admiring how the two of you sat on the dock together, they always knew the ending.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The atmosphere is electric. The crowd’s energy is a living thing, a pulsing mass of anticipation, and you can hardly believe you're standing here. The sound of the crowd, the flashing lights, the energy in the arena, it’s all so much bigger than you imagined. It’s real, and you’re here for it. For Luke.

It’s his first game in the NHL, and you’ve never been more proud of him. The guy you’ve known since birth, who had always dreamed of this moment, was finally living it. You still couldn’t quite wrap your mind around it. Luke, in the big leagues even though Jack and Quinn were already in the NHL. It felt like only yesterday you were with him as he practiced on the ice in his backyard with Quinn and Jack, where they were dreaming of this exact moment.

Your heart beated faster as you glance around the arena of the Prudential Center, the excitement practically buzzing through the air. The rink is perfectly lit, the ice shining beneath the lights, the players skating in warm-ups as the crowd cheers, eager to see the first puck drop.

You spotted Luke on the ice, skating effortlessly, with his new red jersey rather than the maize coloured one that you grew used to. His number, forty-three, stood out proudly on his back. You couldn’t help but smile, a deep sense of pride swelling inside you.

“You okay?” Ellen asked you, giving you a nudge as she watched you watch him.

You blinked and laughed softly, still a little in awe of the scene, “Yeah, just trying to believe this is real.”

She grinned, “I bet, he looks like he’s in his element.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so focused,” You admitted with your eyes never leaving him. There’s something about seeing him out there, doing what he’s always loved, that makes you feel like your chest might burst with pride, “He’s been working his whole life for this.”

“I bet it’s a little surreal for you, huh? Seeing him in the NHL after everything you’ve been through?”

You glanced at her, trying to find the right words, but all you could do was nod. It is surreal. But there’s also something comforting about it. This is Luke. The same person who used to steal your snacks and drag you into late-night study sessions. Now he’s here, in the NHL, and he’s still your Luke.

Before you can say anything more, the arena erupted into cheers, signaling the start of the game. The lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice rings through the speakers, introducing the teams. You stand at the edge of your seat, trying to steady your breathing as the players line up. Your stomach flips with nerves on his behalf.

“Number forty-three, Luuuuuke Hughes!” The announcer called out, and the roar of the crowd was deafening.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hands instinctively clasping together as you cheered with everyone else. Luke skated onto the ice, looking confident in his gear, but his eyes were searching the crowd. And when he found you, your heart stopped.

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes locking with yours across the rink. In that instant, the whole arena fades away, and it’s just the two of you. He’s here, doing what he loves, and you’re here, cheering him on like you always promised you would.

You couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of emotion that crashed over you. This is his dream, and you’re living it with him.

The game begins, and the action is intense. The sound of skates carving across the ice, the thud of sticks on the puck, the roar of the crowd, it’s all part of the symphony of professional hockey, and you’re right in the middle of it. The energy in the arena is electric, and yet, you find yourself focused solely on Luke.

Every time he touches the puck, your heart sped up. Every time he makes a good play, you can’t help but cheer louder. And every time he glances over to where you’re sitting, a little smile creeping onto his face, you feel a warmth spread through your chest, a reminder that no matter how far he’s come, he’s still your Luke.

It’s nearing the third period, and the game is close. The tension could be cut with a knife, and you’re on the edge of your seat. The Devils are ahead by one goal, but the other team is pushing hard. You can see the sweat on his forehead as he skated up the ice, determination in his eyes. He’s everywhere on the rink, fast, sharp, and focused. He’s in his element, and it’s breathtaking.

And then, with a swift pass, the puck lands right on Luke’s stick. There’s a fraction of a second where everything feels suspended. Time slowed down, and all you could do was watch him. You knew he’s about to make something happen. You knew he’s about to score.

The crowd goes silent in that split second. Then, as if on cue, Luke releases the puck with a clean shot, sending it sailing past the goalie and into the back of the net. The arena exploded in cheers.

You jump out of your seat, your hands clapping and your throat screaming with excitement. The announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Goal by number forty-three, Luke Hughes!”

You watched as Luke skated back to his teammates, his eyes searching for you again. When he sees you, he gives a small wave, his smile widening. It’s like he’s found you in the chaos of the game, and that makes your heart swelled with happiness.

The game ended with the New Jersey Devils winning, and the crowd was on their feet, applauding the team’s victory. You feel like you’re floating, the adrenaline from the game mixing with the joy of seeing Luke’s hard work come to life.

After the game, you managed to get down to the lower level, waiting for him just outside the locker room. You’re still buzzing with excitement when the door swings open, and there he was sweaty, tired, and but grinning from ear to ear.

He spotted you almost immediately and, ignoring the stream of reporters and fans, made his way toward you.

“You were amazing,” You breathed out, your voice catching in your throat as you took him in.

“Couldn’t have done it without you here,” He told you as he pulled you into a hug, his arms strong around you as he lifted you off the ground in a moment of pure joy, “You know how much this means to me, right?”

You nodded against his chest, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. His success was your success. This victory isn’t just his, it was yours too. The years of support, the quiet moments, the late-night phone calls. You had been with him every step of the way, and now, you get to see him standing here, living his dream.

Finally, you pulled back to look at him, grinning up at him through happy tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

Luke’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “You’ve always believed in me.”

“Of course I have,” You said with your voice thick with emotion, “And I always will.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly, the taste of victory still fresh on his lips. In this moment, with the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears and the world around you seemingly quiet, this was exactly what you waited for in life and Luke Hughes was yours truly.