#first draft was 14k+

[kindahoping4forever]

Laying Here In Nothing But My Feelings // Luke Hemmings

This fic is 1000% dedicated to @cal-puddies - I had an inexplicable - and rather explicit - Luke breakdown in our chat over the summer and she not only egged me on but when I was done, she was immediately like "fic please." It was essentially a joke between us until Christmas Day (lmao) when she suggested taking my concept for a spin could be a fun way to spend the holiday. And here we are now! Everyone say thank you, Cass! (And also for giving notes and feedback as always and just generally being the best.)

This is the first Luke fic I've managed to finish on my own (Waiting For It Gets So Boring was co-written with Cass!) so please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more!

Warnings: Boyfriend!Luke, band responsibility disrupting sexy plans (no angst, just sexual frustration and tension). Dirty talk, use of sex toys (solo and partnered), sexting, masturbation, prolonged teasing, lowkey body worship, very brief oral sex (female receiving), very not brief rimming (male receiving). For real, like 2500 words of this is rimming. So. Also I apparently mention Luke's thighs 12 times. I'm fine.

Word Count: 12,575

Masterlist // Ko-Fi linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

I no longer use a tag list so more than ever, these fics live and die by reblogs! If you enjoy, please consider sharing so it can circulate and be seen by other readers!

“Oh… oh just like that… don’t stop… don’t stop… oh… babe, wait… Ash?”

Luke looks up from between your legs, mouth glistening, breath heavy, eyes shining with hunger and amusement. “Honestly shocking that’s the first time you’ve accidentally called out his name,” he cracks, snorting at his own joke as he dodges the kick you aim at his chest.

“Haha,” you respond dryly, grabbing your phone off the nightstand and holding it out for him to see. “I told you not to send him to voicemail all those times, now he won’t stop calling me.”

“A likely story,” he jokes, reaching for his own phone. He sits on the edge of the bed to text Ashton while you curl up behind him, nipping at his shoulder.

“Tell him you’re busy,” you purr, reaching around to wrap a hand around his cock. You thumb over his slit, spreading the precum around, smiling at the hiss he lets out when you start slowly stroking. “Tell him you’ve had a hard morning and you can’t be bothered until you deal with some pressing matters… like pressing this cock into my ---”

Luke jumps as his phone vibrates in his hand. “Hey, man, what’s going on?” He answers, rushing out his greeting while stilling your hand. You relent and instead peck at the freckles on his neck. “Wha--- I thought that wasn’t due until tomorrow… oh I guess I didn’t see when that email was sent… so like, today tomorrow?”

The sound of this conversation instantly alarms you and you pop your head around to his line of vision to let him know, shaking your head. He grimaces in response, nodding silently as he listens to Ashton’s monologue. 

“Okay… no, of course I’m not too busy, of course I can be there,” he answers, mouthing sorry at the way your jaw drops. “I can be on the freeway in like 10, I’ll text when I’m there.”

He ends the call and frowns at the look of disbelief on your face. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he starts, immediately scurrying around the room, cock still half hard. “We fucked up and that new song’s gotta be mixed, mastered and turned in before midnight tonight, not tomorrow.”

“Oh wow, that’s intense,” you offer with quiet compassion. He disappears into the closet and you chew your lip, trying to swallow down the disappointment you’re feeling. You wonder out loud, “And you guys can’t just send files back and forth like you have before?” 

He emerges, dressed and pulling on his leather jacket. “Ash already called an engineer in so we all should probably be on site,” he explains, sighing as he grabs his jewelry off the dresser. “I’d have loved to hold off, spend a little more time here but the guy’s already on his way, Ash is flipping out, I’m closest to the studio… I just don’t really have a choice.”

“Aww, Lu, that sucks,” you sympathize. He sits on the bed to pull on his shoes and you rest your head on his shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly. “Sucks your day is starting off so chaotic, sucks we gotta spend it apart now. I was really looking forward to spending today in bed with you.”

“Me too, honey. Me too,” he laments, offering you an apologetic kiss. 

The kiss begins sweet but he can’t help deepening it and you eagerly pull him in closer by the lapels of his jacket. “You got ready pretty quick, babe… Think you’ve got a spare few minutes?” You murmur, leaning back on the bed seductively, hoping to woo him back into bed.

Luke’s eyes scan over your form with interest before he shakes his head, as if he’s physically trying to break a spell you’ve cast on him. He lets out a groan of your name that’s part desire, part regret. “Baby, we both know I can’t be trusted to keep it to my ‘spare few minutes’,” he flirts. He pecks your lips again as he eases off the bed. “Promise I’ll make it up to you tonight!”

“You’re assuming I won’t have already worn myself out in your absence,” you tease, fighting a giggle as he stumbles grabbing his backpack, clearly distracted by what you just said.

“Okay, well now that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about all day,” he says with a wink, heading out the door. A beat passes and then his voice calls out from the staircase, “Love you!” 

“Love you,” you respond, slumping against the pillows.

The whirlwind of the past few minutes sinks in as you stare at the ceiling. You tried to react reasonably, obviously you recognize the predicament Luke is in, but you also think you’re allowed to be disappointed. It’s been ages since the two of you spent some quality time together and setting aside today to lay around and just enjoy each other was Luke’s idea in the first place. 

You sprawl out, figuring you might as well appreciate how much more spacious Luke’s bed is than yours; you run your hand longingly across his side of the bed, giving a sad laugh when you knock into the bottle of lube beside his pillow, a lost vestige of a sexy morning abandoned. An idea sparks in your mind and you sit up excitedly, grabbing the bottle and your phone.

*  *  *

Across town, Luke finds a corner table to sit and wait for his order. You were right, he did have a spare few minutes and he decided nothing softens the blow of an unexpected studio day like fresh donuts waiting for everyone. He proudly sends an update text to Ash and is about to polish off the powdered sugar donut he picked up for himself when a notification from you pops up on the screen. 

Glad to see you’re not still upset about his sudden exit, he taps on your name and his smile quickly morphs into a smirk when he sees the photo you’ve sent - a bottle of lube and a box of tissues atop your nightstand, while your hand dips into the middle drawer, “the fun drawer” as it was dubbed when you first started bringing toys over. The accompanying text reads: 

Wonder if something in here can make me feel as good as you would’ve.

He catches his lip between his teeth as he types back: 

Miss your taste so much already, baby… Use the suction vibe, the pink one we took on vacation. I know it’ll make you cum just as hard as my tongue would.

You giggle reading your boyfriend’s message, pleased at having correctly guessed what his selection would be. You laugh again, this time with a bit more of an edge, as you lube up an entirely different vibrator, the thrusting toy he left for you when he was leaving for tour. When the purple silicone looks nice and slick, you hold it out in front of your phone, making sure your hand is wrapped around the widest part of the base, hoping that’ll make him think about it stretching you out.

Luke stares at the box of donuts he just sat on the passenger seat, wondering if he should fasten the seat belt around it to keep it in place. His phone vibrates on the dashboard and a thrill runs through him when he picks it up to see another notification from you. He was hoping he'd hear from you again, maybe get a sexy afterglow pic to thank him for his toy suggestion.

He takes a sip of coffee as he opens your message and immediately sputters it back into the cup, hurrying it back into the cup holder so he can examine the photo. He zooms in, trying to determine if the vibe is covered in lube or you before determining the answer doesn't really matter because now all he's thinking about is how wet you felt against his face this morning, how his beard still vaguely smells like you.

He runs a hand through his hair, flustered, and finally notices you sent a text as well. 

Thanks for the rec but I think I'm more in the mood for this one. Gonna put it on the highest setting and let it absolutely ruin me the way I wanted you to. Would give anything for this to be you. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss you, miss your cock too much already.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters to himself as he resumes staring at the picture. He remembers the videos you sent while he was overseas, how relentless the toy’s thrusting motion seemed to be, the way your legs wouldn’t stop shaking by the time you were done with it, how he dreamt of the noises you made for the next three nights. “Coulda been you, dummy,” he chastises himself, deciding that while donuts are great, his time would’ve been better spent making sure you were satisfied before he left. *  *  *

You bite your lip, pressing the tip of the vibe to your entrance, teasing yourself. You briefly entertained the idea of queuing up some porn, maybe lighting a candle or two, but between your interrupted orgasm with Luke and the thrill of sexting him, you’ve accepted you probably won’t need much to get off.

Your phone buzzes nearby and you blindly pat around the bed until you find it. You click the new message, already plotting your saucy response, when suddenly your mind goes completely blank as a picture of Luke’s hand gripping his visibly hard cock through his pants fills your screen. 

Fuck, baby… I should’ve stayed. You should be cumming around my cock instead of that toy… should be babbling to me instead of an empty room… should be making a mess on me instead of my sheets. Fuck. I need you so bad, baby. Don’t know how I’m gonna get through the day.

If you weren’t so horny, you might be embarrassed at the way you’re zooming in to study his picture. God, he looks so hard… if he were here, he’d be acting so desperate already… pressing into you, whispering against your ear how much he wants you, hands roaming your ass, tongue running along your ear, employing all the tricks he knows make you weak. Silently vowing to make him that needy tonight, you sink the vibe into yourself, surprised at how loudly you gasp. No, this isn’t going to take long at all. *  *  *

Luke finally pulls into the studio parking lot, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees that despite his detour and your distraction, he’s still the first to arrive. He reaches into the backseat to grab his Airpods out of his backpack, figuring while he waits he can listen to the most recent mix of the song and make notes on what changes are needed. He’s searching through his files for the right version when he’s startled by the vibration of another message.

He takes a deep breath, cock already stirring in anticipation for what you might say - or show - next. He selects your conversation and is momentarily puzzled when no pictures or texts are added to the thread; he glances up at the top of the screen to make sure he has full service and even closes and reopens the chat before he realizes you’ve sent a voice message. Equal parts curious and confused, he adjusts his earbuds and hits play.

There’s nothing but quiet shuffling at first, enough that Luke begins to wonder if you recorded and sent this message by mistake. He’s about to turn the volume up to make sure he’s not missing anything when he hears an all too familiar sigh and he grips the steering wheel, lightheaded from how fast the sound travels to his cock.

“Luuuuke… babe,” you coo, unmistakably slick noises in the background giving away why you sound so breathy. “That picture you sent… fuck… I can’t stop thinking about you getting so hard just from thinking about me wanting you… are you still that hard, baby? Did you have to drive all the way there with your cock straining against your pants like that? Fuck, Lu, wish I was there, I’d be leaning into your lap so fuckin’ fast… how have I never sucked you off in that car? We’ve gotta do something about that, babe, you’re so fucking sexy when you drive, it always makes me want you.”

By the time you take a breath, Luke’s heart is pounding so loud in his ears, he’s afraid you’re going to get drowned out if he doesn’t pause and take a second to calm down. He exhales loudly and leans back, shell-shocked, head feeling like it might float away if he dares to lift it from the seat’s headrest. 

His mind races to process everything he’s feeling. He’s the dumbest man on the planet, how could he have ever left you this morning, he had no choice but to leave you this morning, but how could he have ever left you this morning? He knows you understand that he’d much rather be there with you, so why are you torturing him like this? He loves you for torturing him like this, he hopes you never stop torturing him like this, he’s ready and willing to die or at the very least cum in his pants from listening to you taunt him like this.

Having accepted his fate, he presses play, closing his eyes so he can properly visualize everything he’s hearing.

“God… want you so bad, babe… was so close when you had to stop… I love when you eat my pussy, I almost came right when you first started… should’ve cum for you while I had the chance, I just didn’t want it to be over so quick,” you ramble. “Didn’t want this to be over too soon either, ‘s why I haven’t turned my toy on yet. Was gonna tease myself more but I had to put it in as soon as I saw that picture… oh, Lu, I wish this was you filling me so bad.”

Luke says a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god blessed him with such a vivid imagination, he can perfectly picture you spread out on the bed, chest heaving as your hand moves between your legs, brow furrowed as you fight yourself to keep yourself from going too fast. He squeezes his eyes shut even harder, almost as if he concentrates enough, he can will himself into the room with you.

“Wanted to be naked with you all day… so many things I wanted to do with you… to you… been thinking about it all week… been wet for it since you woke me up this morning… kissing my neck, pressing your cock against my ass...” 

There’s silence for a beat and then a distinct mechanical whir starts up. You resume speaking but your voice is notably affected - a little more rushed, a little more whiny - and Luke can’t help but press his palm to his crotch, groaning with relief at the brief pressure. 

“...Feels too fuckin’ good, babe, I’m already close… all that’s missing is you telling me how good I feel around your cock… how good I look with your hand squeezing my throat… how good I sound begging you to cum all over -- ”

The sharp sound of someone knocking on the car window startles Luke out of his lustful trance. His eyes shoot open, he sits up so fast he bangs his knee on the steering wheel and for some reason, his panicked mind tells him it’s necessary to yank the Airpods out of his ears and throw them to the side as if they were on fire.

It takes another couple of seconds for him to realize he should see who wanted his attention and he turns to see Ashton doubled over, laughing so hard there’s no sound coming from him. Luke first rolls his eyes and then rolls down the window before commenting plainly, “You scared me.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did! What are you doing sitting with your eyes closed like that? Napping?” Ash asks, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Anybody could’ve snuck up on you, smashed a window, grabbed your laptop off the backseat. Or that box of donuts you were so excited about.” He peers around Luke, looking for the prized pastries.

“Right, the famed donut snatchers of the San Fernando Valley,” Luke quips, shifting in his seat, hoping the snacks are the only thing Ash is able to ogle from his vantage point. He grabs the pink box, passing it to him through the window. “Here, you go ahead and set up in there, I’ll be just a minute.”

Ashton looks at him suspiciously and Luke impresses himself with how cooly he explains, “You know how many Airpods I’ve lost already, now I’ve gotta stop and find the ones I just threw across the car since you decided to creep up on me like a psycho.”

“Fine,” Ash shrugs, peeking inside the pastry box. He turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, “If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m eating this eclair I know you were saving.”

Luke scowls but moves into action once Ashton disappears around the corner. He scans the car's cabin, giving a satisfied tongue click when he spots the wayward earbuds, one on the passenger seat, one under it.

A sucker for punishment, he fits them in his ears, scrubs to the last 30 seconds of your message and hits play before he can change his mind.

There's ambient noise - a quiet buzz and a steady rhythmic pattern that he eventually determines must be your breath. The buzz becomes louder and louder before stopping entirely; once it dawns on him that the volume increase was due to you pulling the toy from your body to shut it off, his pants are back to feeling as tight as they were before Ashton’s interruption.

“Mmm… well… guess you’ll be coming home to freshly washed sheets tonight,” you laugh breathily, sounding tired but elated. “I needed that. Still need you more, though. Love you so much, Lu, still wish more than anything you were here with me.”

Luke pouts, his heart aching almost as much as his cock. He can picture you, bottom lip swollen from pulling it between your teeth to stifle your moans, hair crazy from the way you run your fingers through it when you’re coming down, eyes slowly closing as you fight through your exhaustion for the sake of pillow talk.

“...We can make up for it tonight. Thinking about that is what’s gonna get me through my day. Maybe now you’ll be thinkin’ about it too,” you continue, satisfied smile evident in your voice. “Hope you have a good day, babe, get some good work done! Hopefully I didn’t make it too hard… well… the work, I mean.” You giggle at your unintended double entendre and with a kissy noise, the message ends.

He shakes his head, wondering if it’s too late to fake an illness so he can get home to you as soon as possible. He hits record on a voice note of his own and debates the topic out loud. 

“...I mean, I guess Ash already knows I’m here - oh yeah, remind me to tell you that story - but also maybe he’d believe it came on suddenly. Had to have looked pretty pale when he saw me since every ounce of blood in my body was in my dick,” he jokes. His voice drops as he continues, “I’m still so hard for you, baby. I can’t stop hearing your noises… your breath… I swear I could feel it on me. Thinking about how good you must have looked cumming like that… how good you must have felt. Jesus… how do you do it? Every day I think it’s the most I’ve ever wanted you but then you do something else and it’s another level of wanting. Want you so fuckin’ bad, baby. I love you and I’ll see you tonight.”

Before he can think better of it, he briskly undoes his zipper, hooks a thumb in the waistband of both his pants and his boxers and takes a quick picture of the stubborn erection you've left him with.

*  *  *

A sly smile crosses your features when you hear the message tone in the distance as you step out of the shower; you hurry through drying off, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction. You wrap your towel around yourself and shuffle over to the counter where you left your phone.

You feel your eyebrows raise, intrigued by the message preview which reads: “Well, this should be an interesting studio session.” The chat loads and naturally, your eye is immediately drawn to the photo; you chuckle to yourself when you realize you’re instinctively licking your lips at the sight of his neglected cock tenting his pants. He was clearly rushed and at an odd angle so it’s not the best dick pic he’s ever sent, just partial shaft and a lot of his hand trying to hold his underwear out of the way, but simply knowing Luke needed you to see how much your message affected him to the point that he tried to stick his phone down his pants in the studio parking lot has you feeling flushed.

Tearing your eyes away from the picture, you realize he left you a voice message and as soon as you hear the rasp in his voice, how absolutely destroyed he sounds, you place a hand on the counter, steadying yourself. Oh, tonight is gonna be fun.

*  *  *

“You’re not even fuckin’ paying attention, bro,” Calum complains, gesturing at the phone that’s been glued to Luke’s hand since they sat down.

“Am so!” Luke protests, laughing at how juvenile his defense sounded. His eyes scan over the message app just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything and then he sets his phone down. “I’m just waiting on an important message.”

Michael swivels around in his computer chair. “Is it an update on whether or not you’re still the worst? Because I can go ahead and confirm that for you.”

Luke frowns as his friends laugh at his alleged inattention. “We’re gonna double track the pre and take a layer off the first half of the chorus to see if that makes a difference,” he reports, beaming at the surprised faces staring back at him. “It’s almost like I can care about two things at once you asshol-- oh shit…” His bragging is interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating on the table next to him and he reaches for it, the strings on his guitar plucking atonally as he maneuvers.

“Your important message?” Ashton asks with a knowing smile. Between the delayed response this morning, the curious parking lot exchange and Luke’s generally distracted behavior during this session, Ash feels like he has a basic idea of where his mind is.

“Just a delivery notification,” Luke answers glumly, expression turning sheepish when he sees the look on his bandmate’s face. “The coffee’s on its way though.”

“Oh, sweet!” Ash chirps, holding his hand out for Luke to pass the guitar to him. 

Luke opens his notes app and sits back on the couch, ready to give the latest mix his full scrutiny. It takes half a verse for his mind to wander, remembering how much you loved this song the first time you heard him workshopping it at home. His brain reminds him of the way you curled up in his lap while you waited for him to finish piecing together the vocals and the way he eventually gave up once your mouth attached to his neck. He smiles, thinking about how he had you naked and under him within seconds of carrying you to the couch and how he was able to finish the song while you slept, warmed by a blanket and sated by an orgasm, on his studio sofa. 

It’s a wonderful memory but one that has him switching over to check your chat one more time. He’s not sure if your delayed response is part of your game or if you just got distracted but he’s not too proud to double text, especially when he’s missing you this much.

*  *  *

Petunia barks at your phone chiming on the kitchen counter, the sound interrupting her concentrating on lapping up the water you’d just placed in front of her. You laugh and scratch behind her ears, laughing again when you see Luke’s message.

I can only assume you haven’t responded to my striking dick photography because it sent you into such a horny spiral, you’ve orgasmed yourself into a coma.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you respond.

Yes, cum coma. Definitely it. Not like I was taking my time, starting my day, letting you possibly get some work done so you could get home to me on time. Definitely the cum coma.

You shake your head as your message goes from “delivered” to “read” instantly and it shows him already typing a response.

Oh I’ll definitely be home on time… there’s literally nothing that could keep me from getting home on time… this song isn’t done in a couple hours, I’ll just leave the band.

You giggle as you flop onto the living room couch.

Bold of you to assume I’m interested in sleeping with an unemployed musician.

We’re called “independent artists,” ya clout chaser.

Petunia was considering climbing up to lay with you but after the howl you let out at that last message, she opts for watching you curiously from her dog bed instead. 

“You can’t let your dad know I think he’s that funny, we’ll never hear the end of it,” you tell her before resuming your conversation.

How are things going? Clearly you’re fully focused and engaged with the project.

Luke snorts quietly, eyes darting around the room to check that the rest of the guys are still preoccupied: Ashton and Michael animatedly debating the volume of a particular synth while Calum stoically listens in, expression indicating he’s either weighing their arguments carefully or not paying attention at all.

Was going great until we listened back and now I can’t stop thinking about you naked on my studio couch.

Luke smiles at how quickly your typing bubbles come up, pleased to know you remember that day as vividly as he does.

Ohhhh… THAT song.

Every time I hear that chorus melody, I think about trying to overlay those vocals while also trying to keep your hands out of my pants.

You were being super sexy with your glasses and your crazy hair and your musical genius… was that not all just a ploy to get me to touch your dick? My bad.

Part of you wants to feel silly for smiling so much your cheeks hurt but it’s never mattered if you’re just trading texts, speaking over the phone or if he’s sitting right next to you - the two of you have always had this easy rapport - loving, teasing, comforting and titillating all at once. It serves you well at home and it’s especially beneficial during times of separation, whether it be for a few hours like today or for weeks when he’s on tour.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you smirk as you read the screen.

Please, we both know I don’t have to work nearly that hard, you were on me the second you came in and saw I didn’t have a guitar on my lap.

You feel your cheeks heating as you type.

You know what I remember? You working with me in your lap, tracing the tattoo on your thigh… feeling you get harder and harder against my hip… the way your cock would jump whenever I’d graze your skin with my nails…

Luke shifts a throw pillow onto his lap, pants getting tighter for what seems like the millionth time today. He really has no one but himself to blame - not just for leaving but for instigating this latest sexting adventure. He just couldn’t help himself, once he gets to thinking about you like this… he just needs you.

You always love playing with that tatt… I love it too… love it even more when you tease it with your tongue.

Your heart speeds up both from the message and from how surprisingly loud your slow but forceful exhale sounds sitting alone in Luke’s living room. It takes a moment for you to decide how to play things but you let out a self-satisfied hum when you finally start constructing your reply.

Yeah… you love the teasing, don’t you? My tongue teasing your body, my words teasing your mind… I’ll bet you love that you’ve been hard all day and haven’t been able to do a thing about it. Love feeling your cock up against your zipper, love feeling the precum trickle onto your boxers, love wondering if anyone has caught onto what you’re up to.

The studio suddenly feels irredeemably warm as Luke reads your message. He casually presses down onto his lap pillow, strategically alleviating some of the pressure between his legs. He has to admit your read on him was pretty spot on, now he just has to decide how far to take things, especially considering that the guys are just about ready and he’ll be expected to contribute soon.

Can’t help it, baby… want you so bad sometimes I want to make it last… even the buildup is worth getting off on with you.

He leans back, mentally congratulating himself on his response when he feels his eyes widen and his cock throb at your reply. 

I’ll be sure to remind you of that when you’re begging me to let you cum tonight.

*  *  *

Luke goes radio silent for the next several hours until you finally get that long awaited “On my way,” accompanied by a potpourri of excited emojis, just to make sure his enthusiasm comes across.

You’re excited too, grinning to yourself as you fly through the house to make sure you’ve taken care of everything for his impending arrival. You already took Petunia out and refilled her bowl, already charged the toys, and as promised, already washed and changed the sheets. You pull your overnight bag onto the bed, looking over the lingerie you brought, undecided on if you should surprise him with a sexy greeting at the door. You eventually land on “sexy underwear but make him work for it,” grabbing the pink band t-shirt he’s been wearing lately to slip on over the set you chose.

As your final task, you set two cold water bottles on each nightstand, giving a little exasperated huff as you pull out your phone to check the traffic again; it feels like he texted you forever ago but you know you’re probably just impatient. You’re pondering which of his bandmates was most likely to stop him on his way out, when you hear the garage opening and you clap your hands together gleefully, springing up to fix your hair in the vanity mirror.

Luke’s calling your name as soon as he opens the front door; you originally planned on playing it cool, letting him come to you, but you can’t deny how thrilled you are that he’s finally home and you race down to him. 

The two of you meet up at the foot of the stairs, huge smiles decorating your faces. You take advantage of being on the step above him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in the stubble you’ve missed feeling all day. He wraps his arms around you with a chuckle, squeezing you tight, letting you be the one to pull away first. You give him a few quick pecks before you notice the sound of crinkling cellophane coming from him and you pull back curiously to see what the source is.

“These are for you,” Luke sing-songs, presenting you with a brightly colored bouquet of assorted flowers. You pout, touched by the gesture and before he gets a chance to elaborate, you pull him down to your lips to show your appreciation.

He murmurs against you, tangling a hand in your hair, leading you into a slow, sensual kiss. You moan as his tongue greets yours and again when his hand travels down to squeeze your ass under the rising hem of your t-shirt. He groans into your mouth when he feels the high cut lace of your underwear, his mind automatically scrolling through his memories of all the ravishing sets you’ve worn for him, wondering what he’ll be stunned by tonight.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs, holding you tighter, kissing you harder.

“Me too,” you sigh. “Well we know what I’ve been thinking about… what have you been thinking about?”

“For starters, this,” he replies, lifting you off the step and wrapping your legs around his waist. You giggle as he starts to climb the stairs, briefly resuming the makeout before determining he should focus on getting you both to the bedroom safely.

As you pass the hall bathroom, you tap him with your flowers. “We should probably get these in water before we get too distracted.”

He takes the bouquet from you, laying it on the dresser as he enters the bedroom. “They’ll be alright for a little longer.” He carefully sits you on the bed, looking at you hungrily. “You’re all I care about being wet right now.”

You sit up on your knees to kiss him passionately and rid him of his jacket and shirt. You run your hands over his chest, loving the tiny noises he makes as your nails run through his chest hair, tracing along his nipples. You slip your fingers in his waistband, pulling him closer by his pants.

“Been so patient, even while I had my fun with you today… always so patient with me, Lu… love that about you,” you coo, looking up at him alluringly as you palm over the outline of his hardening cock. You keep eye contact as you unfasten his pants and start pulling them down.

It’s a beautiful sight seeing Luke peer down at you, eyes already glassy, mouth already open in awe; his hair is a mess from your fingers running through it, curls hanging over his eyes as he watches you breathlessly. Your stomach drops in anticipation of the moan you know is coming when you dip your head down to mouth at him over his boxer briefs. He doesn’t disappoint, voice both loud and shaky as your lips apply gentle pressure to his cock; you find the tip and pucker your lips more, softly sucking at his shape through the fabric. 

He groans your name in a bid for you to stop, wanting to pace himself. He grips your face in his hand, rings digging into your skin deliciously as he roughly pulls you back up to his mouth, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you, letting his hardness and his tongue work in tandem to let you know how much effect you have on him.

His hand travels down your throat, lingering just long enough to get your blood pumping, before he leans you back so he can grab the hem of your shirt. You help him tug it over your head and he curses under his breath as he takes in the bubblegum pink underwear you picked out. Before you started dating Luke, you never cared much for brightly colored lingerie but with him it feels right: playful and loud while still erotic and intimate, just like the two of you are in bed together.

Luke loves when you dress up for him and you love watching him appreciate all the little details, his eyes poring over the peekaboo sheerness of the lace lining, his fingers reaching out to trace along the geometric caged cutouts above the bra cups, his guitar-worn fingertips an enticing contrast to the smooth satin of the straps. 

“Beautiful, baby,” he whispers reverently, leaning in to place a kiss on each of the tiny bows decorating the set: one on each strap, just below your collarbones, one in the center of your cleavage and one right under the waistband of your panties. He laughs warmly at the gasp that last location elicits from you and he chastely pecks over the front of your underwear a few times before raising back up to grin at you. “This is new, right?”

Nodding, you play with his necklace, somehow feeling both bold and shy under his attentive gaze. “I picked up a couple new things for today, actually… wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to spend all day in bed.”

“Aww, honey,” he pouts, kissing under your jaw until you giggle. “Well I love it… love you… love that you’d think to do that. Looks so good, I almost don’t want to take it off.”

You tease, “Well good, because you don’t get to yet.”

He laughs, surprised but delighted, and you scoot back on the bed; he follows suit, coming to lay with you, quickly kicking off his pants and shoes. The two of you take a moment to enjoy kissing, teasing and enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies after a long day of wanting. When you can tell he’s getting restless, making more noise against your mouth, hips grinding against you more urgently, you shift him to lay on his back.

“Missed you, Lu… wanna show you how much,” you murmur, sucking at his neck. You feel the vibrations of the contented hum he lets out as you leave a mark on his throat. You pull back to admire your work, boasting, “Mine,” as you rub over the red spot. 

He strokes over your face, thumb soothing at your skin that’s looking raw from rubbing up against his beard. “Didn’t need a hickey to tell you that, honey,” he replies, looking at you lovestruck. You lean into his touch, kissing his palm before moving on to explore more of his body. 

Luke sweetly fingers through your hair as you kiss over his chest, nibbling at his collarbones, massaging over his pecs, tongue flicking over his nipple. You start to show the other side the same treatment and he gives a quiet whine, hips bucking into the air.

“Patience, my love,” you chide while your hand snakes over his stomach to squeeze his still clothed bulge. “Is this where you want me, babe? Think I’d forget about this cock? Haven’t thought about anything else all day.”

He pants, breath hitching as you drag your nails over the curves and ridges pressing up against his boxers. “I’m just… so… so fucking ready for you, baby.”

“Mmm,” is the only reply you give, tugging his underwear off. A giant sigh of relief escapes him as his cock is freed, dropping onto his stomach, precum immediately dripping onto his skin. You sit between his legs, thinking out loud, “As I remember it, you were also pretty fucking ready before you left this morning, so… I think you can hang on a little longer.”

His stunned silence turns to an interested murmur as you move back up, returning your attention to his nipples. Once you’re satisfied with how puffy and perky they look, you gently push his arms up, indicating you want them above his head. Dazed but trusting, he complies, resting his hands against the headboard. 

He moans loudly as you flash a warm smile at him and lilt, “Good boy,” before pressing a wet kiss to the puzzle piece inked on his left side, now exposed for you. You smooch and nibble at his skin before switching over to trace your tongue along the vertical script running down his right side. You love that his tattoos are almost always covered - sometimes it feels like you’re the only other person who knows that they’re there. And you love knowing you’re the only person who gets the privilege of touching them like this, of teasing them until he’s squirming uncontrollably.

“Babyyyyy,” he hisses as you begin to peck over his stomach, causing you to laugh against his skin. You look up at him innocently, smirking because you’re not sure if his complaint is due to the work your mouth is doing or the friction from your body leaning across his. 

"What do you need, handsome?" 

Luke tries to pout but can't hold back a grin as he playfully whines, "You didn't kiss the bird," looking sadly over at the ink adorning his right bicep. 

"Oh, my mistake," you play along, crawling back up to where his arm is resting behind his head. You press your lips to the tip of the hummingbird's beak, following along the outline of the tattoo before filling the inside of it with smooches. "How could I forget? Such a pretty bird on a pretty guy."

Before you can move back down, he holds his wrists up to you expectantly, watching smugly as you take the hint and kiss the tattoos he has there as well. As you pull away, he silently points to his lips and you giggle with delight.

"Luke."

"What?! I missed you! Thought you missed me too," he defends dramatically, joining your laughter as you lean in closer.

You intend to kiss him softly but you're weak to his advances once he starts adding heat to it, one hand on your ass, the other dipping inside your bra to cup your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple. His hand sneaks from your ass to between your legs and he groans when he feels how wet you are.

"Oh honey, c'mere," he advises, trying to move your body up the bed. "Get on my face, let me take care of you."

Shaking your head adamantly, you wriggle out of his hold and start moving back down his body. "You first," you insist. He begins to protest but you reach back up and press a finger to his lips to quiet him. "Had all day to fantasize about playing with you, want us to both take our time and enjoy it." 

He lights up hearing you mention thinking about him again. "All day, huh? Tell me what you thought about, baby."

He breathes deep as your fingers dance down his chest and stomach, followed by a sharp exhale when your touch skips over where his cock is resting, instead opting to stroke his upper thigh. You watch his face change while he decides whether or not to verbalize his disappointment; he eventually calms and you dip down to lightly peck his hip.

“Thought about how much I love your body… how beautiful it is… how responsive,” you trail off, giving his hip a teasing bite, smiling to yourself when he bucks up against you with a loud yelp. You kiss the small indent and continue down. “Thought about noises like that… you know I fucking love how vocal you are when we’re together, Lu. Makes me feel so good to know I make you feel so good.”

You nip and kiss your way down to his thigh tattoo, making sure to give it the affection it deserves, especially in light of the memory you shared earlier about how sensitive he was that day you visited his studio. He gets louder and you muffle a groan against him, knowing he’s thinking the same things you are; you lift yourself up to his lips, needing to kiss him, needing to be in that moment with him. His cock twitches between your bodies and the two of you moan in erotic harmony.

“No one else has ever made me feel like this, you know,” he tells you, gripping your hair to kiss you one more time. “Can’t remember ever wanting something - someone - this bad before. Never thought feeling you everywhere but my cock could feel so good… get me this hard. God, you’re incredible.”

Beaming, you place your forehead on his. “You’re incredible, babe. You’ve been waiting so long and you’re still letting me love on you like this? Haven’t tried to guide me anywhere, haven’t asked for anything… haven’t even tried touching yourself. You know you could’ve, right? I didn’t tell you not to,” you point out.

He shrugs, as if the option never even crossed his mind. “I know that anything you do is gonna feel a million times better than anything I could do for myself just because it’s you, so.”

“Luuuuuu,” you melt, bringing yourself to his lips again.

He laughs, “That being said…I would like to cum sooner than later.”

You snort, giving him a playful shove as you push yourself up. “Oh is that something you were interested in doing tonight? That what all the moaning and writhing is about?”

He gently knees your side as you settle back between his legs. “Bold talk from a lady who was so horny earlier, I’d barely been gone ten minutes before you had to get yourself off.”

Giggling, you pinch his inner thigh and giggle some more when he’s surprisingly into it, giving a half-moaned, half-yelled reaction. “Whatever, man, I wasn’t the one jerkin’ it in the parking lot of my job.”

“Nooooo, that’s the whole point! I didn’t jerk it, that’s why I need to cum now,” he insists, tone still lighthearted but with a slight edge to it.

He’s getting desperate and you smile, appreciating how fun he is like this. “Aww, baby, you’re so right. This poor, poor cock deserves some attention, doesn’t it?”

Luke nods pitifully and holds his breath as you move in to press a single closed mouth kiss to the tip of his cock.

“Baby.”

You look at him with wide eyes, feigning shock that he’s disappointed. “More?” You place another chaste kiss halfway down his length, followed by one right at the base. You feel his cock throb under your lips, excited even from just that small amount of contact, and you almost feel bad when you hear his exasperated sigh as he realizes your game. You look up again, teasing, “Still not enough? Such a needy cock, isn’t it? Don’t know how you survived the day, babe, must’ve been so tough not giving in. Didn’t give it even one little stroke?”

He feels you moving down and when your breath is on his thighs again, he gasps. “N-no… wanted to wait for you,” he sputters, breath uneven as your lips brush across his skin.

“Good boy,” you purr, licking your lips and giving a wet kiss to his balls. You move over a fraction, kissing again, this time letting your tongue poke through your mouth and his body jerks so hard, you’d have sworn he jumped about five feet off the bed. “You like that, handsome?” 

A choked cry answers your question and you move and kiss again, sloppier, letting your tongue swirl and linger on his skin. His response is still intense, so you continue, using the same technique but traveling lower and kissing longer; his moan is sharper, breathier, and you notice his legs are opening wider for you, his ass scooting closer to your face. 

Oh.

You contemplate his reaction before moving in again, placing a firm, wet kiss to the space just under his balls. The way he whines your name is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before and judging by the ache you suddenly feel between your legs, you’re confident it will play a starring role in every masturbatory experience you have from now on.

“Luke?” You sit up to get a good look at him, biting your lip to keep from audibly reacting as you take in the sight of his flushed face, his curls frizzed from sweat and his hands resting at his sides, balled up into fists in a clear effort to keep himself from tending to his cock, much redder, much shinier and much angrier than it was when you last looked at it.

“Yeah?” He answers weakly, as desperate as he’s ever been but too dazed to hide it now.

You consider your words before deciding there’s really no delicate way of putting it. “Do you… um… should I eat your ass?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to focus. “Is that… do you want to?”

“Lu,” you soothe, stroking his thighs. “Babe, you know we always say if there’s something one of us wants to try, we’ll hear each other out. And this seems like something that’s really turning you on and I’m really interested in exploring that if you are.”

He stares at the ceiling for a beat before focusing his gaze on you. “Yeah… yes. Yes, I- I think I’d like that.”

Breathing deep, he runs his hands through his hair, obviously overwhelmed. Your instinct is to rush up to give him a calming kiss but you fight the urge, wanting to give him space and time to process whatever he’s feeling. Instead, you hug his knee, using your fingers to draw soft circles on his leg, watching as his face softens and after a moment, he looks back down at you.

“You good, babe?”

“Yeah… I just got like, nervous for a second,” he laughs.

“Well that’s okay.” You smile softly, resting your chin on his knee while you talk. “Are you sure you wanna? We don’t have to, you know I’d be more than happy to suck your dick.”

With a naughty grin, he insists, “I mean, I’d be more than happy to have my dick sucked but I do think it’d be fun to try this.”

“Promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

“Of course… and same.”

“Of course.”

Satisfied, you peck each of his knees before spreading them wide again. You dip down, pressing your chest to the bed, popping your own ass to give him a good show. You knead his ass cheeks before gently pushing them apart, pausing to take a steadying breath of your own.

“Love you,” the voice above eagerly offers.

Your head drops to the mattress and you laugh with glee. “Love you too, babe… especially love that you thought to tell me that just as I’m about to lick your ass for the first time.”

He wheezes before deadpanning, “Sounds like the best time to make that known, if you ask me.”

Shaking your head, you start nibbling at his inner thigh again; you suck and nip at his skin, moving closer and closer to unknown territory. When he feels your warm breath between his cheeks, his noises go totally quiet in anticipation of what you’ll do next.

Leaning in, you hold him tightly and lick a long stripe over his entrance; his entire body tenses and he makes the sharpest yet quietest noise you’ve ever heard from him. Just as your brain wonders if that was a good reaction or a bad reaction, he answers your question by rocking his hips up, silently asking for more.

You oblige him, flattening your tongue to cover even more territory, licking slow and wide from his hole back up to his balls and down again. This time, he’s not shy about letting you know how he feels, a few breathy “fuck”s and a shaky “oh god, baby, yes” falling from his lips. You repeat the same route, experimenting with a swirling motion on the way down and the groan it’s met with tells you it was the right decision.

“You like that, babe?” You raise up to check in with him, your question more curious than teasing. “Feeling good?”

Luke’s face is buried in his hands, surprised at how instantly he’s beside himself with want. “It feels fucking amazing,” he reports, voice muffled but clearly wrecked already. 

Looking at his neglected cock, leaking profusely and a deep shade of red, you ask, “Do you want me to jerk you off while I’m ---”

He interrupts, “Jesus, fuck, baby, no!” It takes a beat for him to hear his own reaction and then he giggles at how serious it was. He explains, “I swear to fuck, I will immediately cum all over myself if either one of us touches my dick for even a second.”

“I thought you wanted to cum sooner than later,” you tease.

He props his head up to grin at you. “I like the idea of your tongue in my ass more if I’m honest.”

“The most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” you quip, getting back into position. “Also… you said in, so…”

“Oh. I mean… is that… would you?”

You lean in and playfully bite a chunk of cheek. “Honestly, Lu, if it’ll get you to keep making noises like you have been, I’ll do literally anything you want to this sexy ass.” 

He laughs, low and raspy enough to give you chills. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You grab his ass, push his thighs a little higher and dive back in, your tongue flicking wetly over his hole. As you work, the increasing volume of his sighs and the frequency with which he’s bucking into the air gives you confidence and your strokes become firmer, your flutters more teasing. You return to the sensitive skin below his balls, your lips providing gentle pressure before beginning a slight suction, and the prolonged moan he gives in response has you squeezing your legs together, hoping for some pressure of your own.

Emboldened by his feedback, you move down to his rim and apply the same method: pressure followed by suction. Luke can’t stop the whimpers spilling from his lips as yours move over him, breath catching as your tongue starts lapping in time, the sloppily wet sounds permanently etching into his brain. 

He wants to tell you what a good job you're doing, how unbelievable you're making him feel, but it's taking all his concentration not to grind himself back against your face, so all he can think to do is moan. He briefly considers reaching down to thread his hands in your hair and show his appreciation that way but that’d put his hands way too close to his cock and he doesn't trust himself enough not to touch it.

He groans as your grip on his thighs tightens up, trying to get a better angle; your nails dig into his skin as you do your best to keep him steady and he whines, feeling a fresh round of precum run onto his stomach. You press yourself closer, the tip of your tongue up against his opening before cautiously dipping inside. A strained shout escapes him and he claws at the sheets, pushing his ass down to meet your mouth, a tiny “sorry” lost in his throat as you work your tongue inside him and thrust. His head is spinning, he swears he’s never heard himself make the sounds he’s making and when your tongue thrusts into him again, he cries out as his cock twitches involuntarily.

All his noises are going straight to your pussy and you pull back, panting, in desperate need of a break. 

“Luke,” you huff, pecking across his thighs as you lift yourself up to address him. “I’m glad you seem to be enjoying this, babe… I apparently can’t get enough either, I’m absolutely soaked.”

He lifts his head to look at you and you sit up enough for him to see the center of your panties is a much darker shade of pink than it was before. “Holy shit, baby… that’s just from working on me?” You nod, lip between your teeth, and he groans. “God, you’re a fucking dream, you know that? Looking like that, making me feel… fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it… but you’re really, really fucking good at this.”

You grin, basking in his rambled praise. “Well, I’d be lost if I didn’t have such good feedback. All your pretty sounds, the way you keep grinding against my face…”

“Sorry about that,” he chuckles, a hint of shyness in his voice.

“No, Lu, I love knowing I’m making you feel so good. It’s so hot seeing you get so…”

“Slutty?”

You laugh, squeezing his knees affectionately. “I mean, that’s really nothing new, is it?” He giggles, breath slowing as your hands start roaming his legs. Your tone turns teasing, “So slutty… so needy… and yet, still so good for me, huh? Look at that cock! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it so hard, have you? I’ll bet it’s absolutely aching, isn’t it, baby?”

“Ahhh, uh-huh,” he agrees quietly. He holds his breath as you lean over him, your hands rubbing over his stomach, so close - too close - to where his cock lays.

He gasps as you swirl your finger through some of the precum that’s pooled on his skin, the sensation causing his cock to jump up again.

You moan at the sight, loving that you’ve got him so worked up. Your finger inches closer and he whines helplessly. “You sure you don’t want me to do something about this, babe? Looks like it wouldn’t take much… what do you think? Think I’d be able to get even one stroke in?” You lightly run your nail against his stomach, right next to where his tip is and he lets out what can only be described as a sob. “Think I’d even get my hand around it before you make a mess of us both?” 

You lift your hand as if you’re going to test your theory and he wails your name desperately.

“Good boy,” you coo, backing off, watching the pronounced rise and fall of his chest as he tries to regain composure. You settle back between his legs and check in. “Keep going - yes or no?”

The question has barely left your mouth before he’s rushing out, “Yes, yes, yes, baby.” He slides his hands under his thighs and lifts them up to emphasize his point. “Please.”

Groaning at his eagerness, you feel even more wetness drip onto your lace bottoms. “Let me hear you, baby,” you encourage, softly kissing his cheeks, working your way in. 

You begin a pattern of kitten licks over his entrance that has him instantly moaning. You then teasingly swirl your tongue around - 1, 2, 3, times - and on the final circle you let the tip dart inside him and he lifts his legs even higher, rocking himself towards you, needing more. You duplicate the process but slower, adding in a few extra swirls just to hear his reaction - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - and your taunting is met with a series of increasingly frantic whines and a few strangled pleas of your name. When you finally flit your tongue inside, the relieved “Oh my fucking god, baby, yes, that” feels a hundred times better than the orgasm you gave yourself earlier.

As you continue, Luke feels like he’s lost control - his hips pumping against you seemingly of their own accord, his voice producing a consistent stream of sounds he doesn’t recognize, his cock springing up with interest yet again. And does he always leak this much precum? Fuck. You squeeze his ass, your hair tickling his cheeks as you wiggle, working your tongue in deeper; he notices a distinct sensation spreading through his body but he’s so overwhelmed he can’t quite place it yet. 

He looks down to see your head moving in a familiar bobbing motion and he has to groan as his mind acknowledges that he’s being blessed with one of his favorite visuals not because you’re sucking him off, but eating his ass.

“So good, baby… so fucking good,” he praises dreamily.

You murmur against him in appreciation, giving his ass another squeeze and he whimpers, that confusing sensation running through him again but more insistent. You’re effectively fucking him with your tongue, digging your nails into his skin, trying to hold on as he fucks back against you, and when your own muffled moans start pouring from your throat, that same mystery sensation returns to his body with such intensity, it demands to be recognized.

Oh. 

It takes up until the second that Luke starts cumming for him to realize that’s what’s happening and it’s not until he feels the first rope of cum hit his chest that he actually believes it. He tries to call your name but all that comes out is the first letter followed by a bunch of unintelligible cries, voice unfamiliar as his body shudders. His cock pulses and throbs mindlessly, spraying his release near and far, coating his entire torso all the way from his belly to his chest. 

The high of this orgasm seems to have no limit, building and building even when it seems like it's beyond time to fall back down to earth. He tries to express this thought but his breath comes out in short, wrecked sobs while his arms shake as he struggles to hold his legs in the air. It’s probably the most exhilarating - and bewildering - thing he’s ever felt and when it finally crescendos, he gives an elongated groan of something resembling your name and lets his limbs drop down as he melts into the bed.

As soon as his legs hit the mattress, you’re racing over to his side. “Luke? Baby. Oh my god,” you fuss. He looks absolutely destroyed - hair disheveled, skin flushed, eyes tightly shut. His breath is steadier than it was but still labored, heaving chest covered in sweat and cum. He’s never looked more beautiful. You speak tenderly, stroking his cheek, “You did so good, Lu, oh my god, that was incredible, baby… are you okay?”

His eyes flutter open, still a bit glazed. He takes a moment before he answers. “Yeah… I… just… whoa.”

“Yeah, definitely whoa,” you laugh quietly, pushing the curls off his forehead. “I’ve never… did you know you could -- “

He shakes his head. “Nope. Never happened before, not even close.” He chuckles in disbelief. “I didn’t even know it was happening until it was happening.” 

You giggle with him. “I felt your body like, pulse and before I even had time to think about it, you were moaning and… oh my god, babe…” You move closer to snuggle him but he holds his hands out to stop you.

“Messy,” he laughs sheepishly, gesturing at his sticky skin.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, you promise, “One sec,” and hop off the bed, hurrying to the en suite. Luke closes his eyes, the sound of the running faucet serving as the perfect white noise as he lays there, content but exhausted. Several moments later, he feels the bed dip, followed by the pleasant sensation of a warm washcloth moving across his chest.

“Thank you, honey,” he says quietly, reaching out to squeeze your hip. He traces the waistband of your panties admiringly. “Couldn’t let these gorgeous pieces get stained… not yet, anyway.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you snort. “Such a thoughtful lover,” you joke, softly flicking him with the washcloth before tossing it aside.

“Well actually, speaking of which,” he starts, hand moving to rub over the now transparent from arousal patch of your underwear. “What should we do about this?”

“I was actually gonna see if you wanted a snack,” you shrug, patting his now clean skin dry with a new towel. He narrows his eyes skeptically and you explain simply as you pass him his water bottle. “I came this morning.”

“Oh, trust me, I remember,” he smirks, taking the bottle but grabbing your arm to pull you close. He caresses your cheek, continuing, “But you seemed happy - eager even - to have another so I wanna check that you’re not passing it up just because you made me cum my brains out and think now you gotta take care of me.”

You take a thoughtful sip from your water. “I guess I got a little worked up watching you… and talking to you over the course of the day… and looking at the pictures of your dick that you sent me,” you shrug again, a coy smile creeping at the corners of your lips. “I just… that was so intense, babe, are you sure you don’t need anything?”

He opens his arms and you don’t hesitate to accept the invitation, curling up on him, letting him wrap himself around you. “Honestly all I need is to feel my girl laying in my arms… heart racing, hips bucking…” He kisses sweetly over your face, ghosting over your lips before darting down to suck under your jaw instead. He runs his hand over the mark he leaves, tracing his thumb over your mouth. “Little gasps, sweet moans spilling out from these beautiful lips… if that’s something you think you might be interested in.”

Your eyes meet his as you suck his thumb between your lips, biting gently. “Well… if it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” you joke, sighing as you’re pulled into a passionate kiss. 

His fingers toy with the caged straps of your bra and he whispers, “Wanna be naked with me?” You eagerly nod, hissing quietly as he unfastens you; you help him pull the material off and then quickly shimmy out of your bottoms. You shiver under his appreciative gaze as he murmurs, “That’s my good girl,” before capturing your lips again.

The makeout is slow and familiar, a lovely juxtaposition to the frenzied experimentation you’re both still coming down from. His hand makes its way down your body, slipping between your legs and you both groan as he starts stroking through your wet folds. You almost instantly start rocking your hips into his touch - you’ve been waiting to feel his hands on you all day and you’ve been so turned on for so long and your body is so grateful to finally have some relief.

He laughs raspily, “Baby… after all that buildup, don’t you think you deserve more than humping my hand?” You whine as he pulls away and whine again when you see him reaching over into “the fun drawer.” He grabs the first toy he touches and it happens to be the one you used this morning. He clicks the button and it whirs to life, thrusting back and forth enthusiastically, much to his delight. “Look at this bad boy! I’ve always wanted to watch you with this one.”

“Well pay attention because it’s not gonna last long,” you laugh.

After some discussion, he props some pillows up against the headboard and sits back with his legs open for you to lay between. You relax into him, immediately angling your head for a kiss while Luke’s first order of business is getting his hands on your breasts. You tease each other a bit - your teeth tugging his lip, his ringed fingers twirling your nipples - and then he’s nudging you to pick up the vibrator.

“Been thinking about this since I saw that picture,” he admits, watching carefully as you drag the toy down your body.

You run the tip up and down your pussy, getting it nice and wet before lightly circling your clit. “I always wait until the last minute to turn it on… it feels too good,” you explain, teasing your opening and then pulling it away, your hips tilting up in hopes of reconnecting with the toy. “Even just putting it in is too much sometimes because I know how good it’s about to make me feel.” You torment yourself a few more times and then finally let it slip in, sighing loudly as it glides inside you.

“Fuck,” Luke breathes, rubbing your legs soothingly as he stares, slack-jawed.

One hand fits the toy inside you while your other interlaces your fingers with his. “Oh this is gonna be so quick,” you laugh, leaning back to kiss his neck. “You ready?”

"I don't know," he giggles, squeezing your thigh. "Ready to see you come apart, baby."

You keep your gaze trained on his face, your hand using sense memory to locate the power button and turn it on. A deep groan escapes your throat instantly as the shaft of the toy begins vibrating and pumping inside you. You quickly click it down to a low setting and reach to adjust the arm meant to stimulate your clit, your eyes rolling back the moment it lands on the right spot.

"Feels good?" He asks quietly, visibly gulping as you nod and lick your lips. He runs his hands up from your legs, caressing over your hips, your stomach and finally your tits again, where his touch lingers. "As good as this morning?"

Bringing him into a kiss, you sigh, "Better… you're here now." You roll your hips with the slow rhythm of the vibrator, not yet ready to crank it up to your usual setting and have this end. "Don't gotta imagine your hands on my body, your voice in my ear, your breath on me… you're here."

"So glad I'm here, honey," he reassures, kissing your face. You press a button to change the pattern of the vibrations and gasp into his mouth. He groans, wanting to help you along, "Did you pretend it was me fucking you? My cock inside you?"

You confirm breathily, "Oh, Lu, yes… Pretended you were still in bed with me… like the phone never rang… like we just woke up and you were on my neck, telling me how much you wanted me… pretended we were back in that moment and I told you to slip it in like I wished I would’ve… oh god, Lu, c’mere.” You reach for his hand, panting.

The sudden shift of intensity in your tone has Luke breathing as heavy as you, rushing to do as requested. You guide his hand around the bottom of the toy’s shaft, right where it’s peeking out of your body; you watch his jaw drop as you cycle through the settings, landing on the rhythm and speed that always leaves you seeing stars.

He looks at you wide-eyed. “No way,” he laughs, feeling the strong buzz and rapid thrusts. “Baby, this is gonna launch you into space.”

“Counting on it,” you giggle, turning it back down while you move his hand to the base of the toy and adjust his hold so it’s at the angle you need. As soon as he’s in position, you turn the power back up and let out a pronounced moan.

“That’s it, lemme hear those beautiful sounds, honey,” he encourages, his free hand gripping your breast tight, hoping to both get you off and steady you.

The whines only get louder as your back arches into his touch and your hips stutter, your body too stimulated to follow along with the vibe's movements. It drives into you over and over at that delicious angle and you bury your face into Luke's neck, muffling a cry as you feel your climax start to light up every single cell in your body. 

The pleasure rushes through you, the chemicals flood your system and most importantly, your boyfriend’s arms tighten around you. The orgasm is great - fantastic even - but feeling this good while being this close to him is what makes all the waiting, all the teasing, all the frustration of the day worth it.

“Oh, that’s it, baby… what a good girl… look so unbelievable when you cum for me,” he encourages as you huff and shake in his embrace. A few seconds later, your body settles and your breathing quiets but a small whimper remains and he knows that means you’re done with the vibrator. He shuts it off and carefully pulls it out, soothing in a soft voice, “I know, baby, that was so much… it’s alright, I’ve got you.”

He gently eases you onto your pillow, freeing up his arm to grab the tissue box off the nightstand. You pout and make grabby hands at him as he stops to wipe down your toy; he grins, pecking your lips before starting to clean you up as well. Neither of you have much to say, content with simply trading soft smiles and softer touches. 

Luke lays his head on your chest, gazing up lovingly at you, and you tangle your fingers in his curls, loving the way his eyelashes flutter as you comb through his hair. You take the moment in until something occurs to you. “Hey, babe, I don’t think I ever actually thanked you for those flowers? They’re gorgeous… that was really sweet of you.”

“Aww, honey, I’m glad you liked them!” He beams proudly. His expression briefly falters but he shakes it off and continues, “I wanted to kind of acknowledge and apologize for this morning… I promised this would be our day and I should’ve taken a minute to find a compromise instead of just taking off like it was nothing.”

“Luuuuuke,” you whine, stroking his cheek softly. “I know I complained at first but you know I understand the band comes first - it’s your job and it’s important. You’ve got a lot of people counting on you.”

He shrugs. “I had you counting on me and you’re someone I don’t ever wanna disappoint. I should’ve asked if you wanted to come have lunch or something. I don’t know where my head was at.”

“Well, babe, I appreciate the apology but I still had a pretty fun day,” you reassure him, smirk curling the edges of your mouth.

“Is that so? I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes, pushing up to kiss you. “Glad to hear you had a good day, though… spent most of mine worrying I’d ruined it.”

You giggle, “Babe, I’m pretty sure the only thing that got well and truly ruined today was you.”

He laughs with you, a faint blush spreading over his skin. “So best case scenario then,” he cracks, pressing another kiss on your lips.

He sits up, sipping his water, passing yours over when you prop yourself up next to him. You suddenly remember to ask, “Hey, how was the studio, by the way? How’d our song turn out?”

Luke grins. “Oh, is it our song?”

With a naughty smile, you explain. “I don’t know about you but I doubt I’ll be able to think about anything besides tonight when I hear it.”

“Well… tonight and the night I wrote it.”

“See.”

“You’re right, it’s definitely our song,” he giggles, squeezing your knee. “I really like what it’s turning into, I think it’s almost where it needs to be.”

Your brow scrunches, confused. “Almost? Wasn’t it due today?”

“Oh!” He laughs, shaking his head. “The deadline actually got extended.”

“What?!”

“Mmm hmm, some kind of server maintenance - the label apparently can’t handle any incoming files for a day or two. So we all decided we should use that time and really get it right.”

You’re quiet for a moment before offering a simple, “Interesting.”

Luke can tell you’re calculating if this will affect your time together again and he slinks his arm around you, leaning your head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t need nearly as much work as it did today though, so hopefully it won’t take up too much of the day.” 

“Yeah, hopefully.”

With a smile, he adds, “But just in case, I’m thinking my phone’s gonna accidentally die overnight, what about yours?”

——————————————— Thank you for reading!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

🫡

[musical-chick-13]

Thank you to The Bestie, because their enthusiastic support and continued write-sprinting with me is the only reason I have been getting ANY work done on this fic lately.

[erythristicbones]

okay i said i'd ramble about my original stories a bit, so let's jump into my changes to the Nameless

1. Aliens vs Myths

The original drafts all worked with the idea that the creatures brainwashing the town were aliens, as that was what happened in the dream that became this story. But since it exists in my Earth universe and all of my other creatures in said universe are based on actual mythical creatures/cryptids, it felt weird to throw in aliens. Like technically there are ways I could work aliens in and have them be lore accurate, it just didn't fit in a way that I liked.

So, my main thought now is that they are going to be based on a mythical creature(actually considering two different mythical species working in tandem), it's just that they aren't well-known ones yet. The idea will be that the protagonists don't know what they are and never do find out an actual name/species for them...but they reader can then extrapolate what they think the creatures are. If I do a good job of my descriptions/lore then it will, ideally, be relatively easy to figure our what they are.

2. Switching up OC species

The vast majority of the original cast was human, with a handful of them being werewolves/lycanthropes, like the dream I had. This time around I definitely want to make that vary a bit more, since this takes place in the time period of this universe where mythical humanoids are very prevalent in society and obvs no longer just myths/rare sightings. Even an isolated town like Hobbysfell should have a decent population of non-humans within it.

So, the notable changes will be: Cori's best friend and love interest(Brooke and Daley), her rival(Mallory) and maybe a couple supporting characters(Felix and/or Lilias). Brooke & Daley are being changed from werewolves/general lycanthropes to Kushtaka, or specifically otter-shifters(Daley will be based on the congo clawless otter, Brooke on the sea otter). Mallory will be a Dryad, although I haven't settled on which tree to base her plant characteristics on. I think it would be neat to make Felix a Cyclops, but that also hinges on me doing research and then figuring out how those will function in my lore. Alicia/Nat will remain werewolves and Cori will remain a human.

I have like...two more plot related things still ruminating in my mind, but these are the big changes that I've defs settled on 👀

[mountsmase]

I’m Yours

a/n : hi!! I can’t believe I’m finally posting this fic! I’ve had this concept sat in my drafts since March and I went through a bit of a hard time with writing but I’ve now turned this idea into something that I’m really proud of 🥹 this is the first time I’ve attempted to write something where the reader and Mase aren’t already in an established relationship, so I really hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!! These two are my babies 🥺 I really hope you enjoy ❤️ feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻 (also it’s my first time trying an actual header so please let me know what you think)

word count: 14k +

genre: fluff and smut

“There you are”

The deep rumble of your best friends voice startles you, his suit clad body brushing against the bare skin of your arm as he appears next to you.

Mason pulls out the chair beside your own, sitting down with you in the secluded corner of the crowded room.

The Together for Short Lives gala is well and truly underway, the large ballroom decorated in elegant black and gold furnishings as people talk amongst themselves around the room. It’s packed, an amazing turn out for such a meaningful event.

The evening so far has been nothing short of special, with a dinner followed by an auction, all of the money going to an amazing cause. Your heart filled with pride watching Mason up on the stage and you’re so grateful that he chose to share this night with you.

“You disappeared on me” Mason pouts, glancing down at the cocktail you’re holding in your hands before taking it from you and lifting it to his lips.

He takes a sip and you giggle at the face he pulls as he clearly didn’t enjoying the sweet tasting drink as much as he thought he would.

“Sorry, I just went to get another drink and then I couldn’t find you” You tell him, taking your glass back when he offers it to you.

“You should’ve called me, I’d of come to find you” He replies, and you try to ignore the way your tummy flutters at his words.

“I know you would’ve, but I can handle being alone for a bit, I’m a big girl”

There’s a playful glint in his eyes when you look up at him.

“But what if I wanted to come and find you?”

“Well you’re here now, so it couldn’t of been that difficult” You grin, watching as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and you’re briefly distracted when he reaches up to adjust his tie.

You and Mason have been friends for as long as you can remember.

Your dads used to work together when they were younger and they always had a close relationship both in and out of work, which led to your families becoming close as well. Your mums became inseparable when they were introduced, and a few years later, when you and Mason were born only a few months apart, you naturally became inseparable too.

You grew up together, your parents keeping you close despite the fact that you attended two different schools, and as you got older, your bond only grew stronger.

Some of your best memories are with Mason, you’d stay the weekend at each others houses, spend long afternoons doing homework together before playing in the garden, and there were even a few summers where your families had joint holidays.

It was the two of you against the world, and it had always been that way.

That is until his football career started to take off. You were so proud of him. Your friend was playing for one of the best clubs in the England and you were over the moon to see him doing so well.

But, it unfortunately meant that he became busier and was spending more and more time in London and away from Portsmouth. You tried your best to stay in touch, messaging all the time and video calling when you eventually got phones, but you can’t deny that it was hard not having him around anymore.

Things only started to get difficult when he went on loan to Vitesse when you were 18. It was harder to keep contact with him being away and being so focussed on football, but you’d never blame him for the fact you drifted apart.

You were in college at the time, spending any available minuet that you had on your classes, making sure you could pass your exams and get into the uni you’d always dreamed of attending.

It was difficult, you couldn’t be there for each other as much as you’d of liked to be, and as much as you’d both tried your hardest to stop it, it started becoming harder and harder as time went on.

You’d only see each other at family events like birthdays and weddings and it got to the point where you’d only talk once every few months or so. Even when he came back to the UK and was living in Cobham, you’d video call to catch up and then not speak to each other again for weeks unless you had something specific to talk about.

It was all part of growing up though. He was still one of your best friends, someone you knew you could trust and could call if you ever needed anything, and you were the same to him.

You both became increasingly busy, especially when he began playing for the first team and you were going through university, so it made sense that it became harder to make time for each other.

But, last year, it all changed.

After graduating from university and receiving your degree three years ago, you were presented with an amazing job opportunity in Manchester, which you just couldn’t say no to. It was a big change for you, moving somewhere so far away from home and having to start a new life in a new city, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You’re doing amazing at work, having received a promotion not even two years after joining your company, and you’ve got a cute little apartment that you’ve well and truly made your own.

You really didn’t think it could get much better, but you were proved wrong when Mason transferred to Man United last summer.

After a lot of uncertainty surrounding his career, Mason was relived to finally know who he would be playing for next season and was excited to start his new life up in Manchester.

You were one of the only people he knew in the city, and when he reached out, you offered for him to stay in your spare bedroom whilst he settled in and found a place to call his own.

He obviously took you up on your offer, loving the extra time he got to spend with you and the familiarity that came with being in your presence.

You had the best month living together. It was like you’d never been apart, all of those years of having distance between you forgotten. You’d cook dinner together, have movie nights, talk to each other after you’d had a bad day at training or work and even after he moved out and into his new home, you still spent as much time together as possible.

You had your best friend back, and you had truly never felt happier.

Now, fast forward 8 months, and you’re questioning if that’s really all you are anymore.

You’ve always known that Mason is an attractive guy. I mean, how could you not? He’s gorgeous.

But recently that attraction has grown deeper. And not only in a physical way.

The last couple of months have been filled with lingering touches and longing gazes, the line between friendship and something more slowly becoming blurred.

He’s no longer just Mason, your best friend, but he’s Mason, the guy you think, sorry, know that you’re in love with.

Mason is one of the few people who treats you like you’re somebody. He makes you feel like the most special girl in the world without even trying and you’ve had to remind yourself one too many times recently that there’s nothing more going on between you.

You haven’t mentioned your feelings to him because you’re scared. Scared of loosing him and ruining what is such an important friendship to you. Scared that you aren’t enough for him.

You didn’t have the best experience in your last relationship, and you know deep down that Mason would never treat you the way he did and that there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You’re a pretty girl who has good morals and a good head on your shoulders.

But, the fear that you’re not good enough - that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wants and needs - still clouds your mind, and it’s one of the reasons why you won’t admit anything to him.

And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? After the last couple of months you know deep down that he could, but the last thing you want is to throw away your friendship over it.

You just can’t ignore the growing tension between the two of you.

But…neither can he.

Mason has felt for a long time that there’s no one else for him but you, and his feelings for you just grew stronger after moving to Manchester.

You took him in and made him feel at home in a city where mostly everything was new to him, supported him through a tough transition period, and after moving out of your spare bedroom he found himself craving your company more than anyone else’s.

You feel like home to him.

Tough day at training? He wants to see you. He saw something funny on TikTok? It’s you he wants to send it to you. He burnt his toast that morning? He wants to tell you. You’re at the forefront of his mind all the time.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever set his eyes on, both inside and out. You’ve got a heart of gold and he would do anything in his power to protect you from the harsh reality’s of the world. You’re the most important person to him, he just wants to make you happy and see you smiling all the time.

This tension that’s been building between you recently has been killing him, and as much as he worries that you won’t feel the same way, he doesn’t think he can hold in his feelings much longer.

There’s been too many moments where he’s had to stop himself from leaning in and claiming your lips with his own, and it’s been becoming harder and harder to restrain himself.

Especially tonight.

He’d invited you to join him and Lewis as a plus one to the black tie gala, wanting to experience the evening with you and share something that’s always been so special to him.

When you stepped out of the lift earlier in the evening, his heart soared at the sight of you in your floor length gown. You left him speechless, and he’s not been able to take his eyes off of you ever since.

The black material hugs your body in all of the right places, perfectly contrasting against your tanned skin. You’ve matched it with a pair of strappy heals and silver jewellery, going for a simple yet elegant look.

There’s a slit down the left side, starting at your upper thigh, and the sight of your leg poking out from underneath the satin fabric has Mason’s mind wandering to places that he knows it shouldn’t.

You look absolutely stunning, and he’s been struggling to hold himself back all evening.

He’s found his attention drifting to you through out the night, more often than not becoming distracted from whatever conversation he’s having to admire you, and he’d quickly become captivated by your presence.

Sitting next to you now is no different, he can’t help but let his eyes drift down your body and your cheeks heat when you notice his wandering gaze.

There’s a look of longing in his eyes, one you’ve become familiar with, but until tonight you’ve always thought that you’ve been imagining it.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, Mase”

The sound of your soft voice has his attention snapping away from your body, and your heart skips a beat when his warm brown eyes find yours.

His cheeks flush from being caught, but his confidence doesn’t falter.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He whispers, loud enough for only you to hear and the teasing smirk that finds his lips has your heart racing in your chest.

You’re overcome by a wave of shyness, any response that you may have had dying in your throat as he shuffles closer to you, his knee nudging into yours under the table.

He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but the urge to touch you suddenly becomes too much to ignore. He finds himself reaching out, his warm palm landing against your exposed thigh as his other arm snakes behind you, resting against the back of your chair. Your skin burns under his touch, breath hitching in your throat when his thumb rubs in tender circles over the inside of your thigh.

Mason has always been a touchy person, you’ve seen and experienced it over your years of friendship, but there’s something about the way he’s touching you now that has your head spinning.

His hand ventures a little higher and you fumble to open your purse, pulling out your lipgloss and phone in a desperate attempt to distract yourself and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you’ve avoided his question when you open the camera app, using it as a makeshift mirror to reapply the gloss.

He watches as you swipe the applicator over your pink, plump lips, the action captivating him and it takes all of his self restraint to not lean in and kiss you right there and then.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Bambi”

You pop the lid back onto the tube and place it back into your purse - your distraction techniques having been unsuccessful - and look up and into his eyes.

The whispered compliment has butterflies erupting in your tummy, your lips tugging up into a smile upon hearing the nickname he’s always used for you.

It started when you were 10, you always loved the movie and had invited him over to watch it with you after school one day. About half way through you stood up to go and find more popcorn but being your clumsy self you’d ended up tripping over your own feet.

Mase took the opportunity to compare your clumsiness to that of the deer, and at first he used the nickname as a joke, but then it stuck, and now, even in your twenties he still liked to use it. And you love to hear it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Masey” you tell him, letting your gaze drop briefly and you take allow yourself a moment to admire him.

Mason is handsome even on his worst days - you’re convinced that he could wear the ugliest outfit ever and somehow still pull it off - but there something about the way he looks tonight that has you breathless.

The suit he’s wearing is simple - perfect for a black tie event. A white shirt with a black jacket and trousers, a matching tie and some dress shoes to complete the look. The chest strap that he wore earlier in the evening has been abandoned, the jacket now undone allowing for more of a relaxed look as the evening goes on.

His hair is freshly trimmed, styled into a short quiff and his facial hair is neat, more of a long stubble than a full beard. The lighting in the room is dim, but you can still make out all of his features, the freckles that are dotted over his cheeks, his long lashes and the dimple that appears whenever he smiles. He’s utterly breathtaking.

“Remind me to thank whoever tailored this suit for you” You smile, gaze locking onto his again as you reach up, smoothing your hands over the lapels of his jacket.

“You like it?”

“I love it, you look so handsome” you let your hands drop back into your lap and he misses your touch immediately.

“Yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you nod gently.

You feel his arm move from behind you as he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before brushing down your jaw and you become hyper-aware of how close you are when you feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

It feels as though the air around you has suddenly shifted, his gaze swimming with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The intense eye contact becomes too much for you, your eyes momentarily dropping to his chest but he brings them back to his with a hand cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so that you have no choice but to look at him.

His gaze drops to your lips, once, twice, and a third time, until the desire to feel them against his own becomes too overwhelming. He’s leaning in before he has a chance to stop himself, the lack of hesitation in your eyes only urging him on until someone clears their throat behind you.

“Hey guys” Lewis’ voice snaps you and Mason back to reality, the room around you coming back into focus.

His presence causes Mason to jump away from you, an unwelcome chill touching your skin where his hand no longer rests against your thigh. He groans in annoyance and turns towards his brother.

You release the breath you never realised you were holding, clearing your throat and fiddling nervously with the hem of your dress as Mason looks up at Lewis expectantly.

If he saw anything, he doesn’t let it show.

“Sorry Mase, there’s a few people asking for you”

Mason nods politely, standing up before turning to hold a hand out for you.

“You coming?” He asks, acting as though nothing happened - that he hasn’t just nearly kissed you.

It takes you a few more seconds to regain your composure, blinking up at him a few times before eventually nodding and taking his outstretched hand.

He helps you up, waiting until Lewis has turned away to lift your joint hands to his lips. He places a quick kiss to your knuckles, sending you a soft smile before letting them drop between you again and he doesn’t let go as you follow him through the crowd, fingers still intertwined as Lewis introduces you to an older man who you recognise as one of the event organisers.

You try your best to focus on the conversations that are happening in front of you. You really do.

But it’s hard to concentrate with Mason’s fingers still tangled with yours and the thought of what could’ve happened had Lewis not interrupted you a few moments ago.

That’s the second time you’ve almost kissed him. The first being a few weeks ago when he’d invited you and a few of your other friends over for a games night.

You’d gotten to Mason’s a little earlier than everyone else, wanting to spend a bit of extra time with him before the others arrived and you were in the kitchen, helping him find some snacks and drinks when your favourite song had come on shuffle through the speakers.

One thing led to another and you were dancing around the kitchen, singing your little heart out as Mason stood back and watched you, giggling at your terrible dance moves.

As the song went on you got a little more into it, accidentally crashing into him after tripping over your own feet and he’d reached out to steady you, the two of you laughing together as you found your footing and rested against his chest.

Your laughter had slowly died down, the air around you thickening as you looked up to find him already gazing down at you. The warm look in his eyes could only be described as endearment and what happened next was a bit of blur.

He was leaning in when the door bell went off, the others arriving at the worst time and ruining the moment without even realising.

You’ve thought about it every day since, wondering what could’ve been, and now here you are weeks later, still asking yourself the same questions.

You’re brought back to the present moment when Mason squeezes your hand, dragging your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you.

“You okay?” He mumbles close to your ear, hand letting go of yours to instead wrap around your waist and you melt into his warmth as he tugs you closer.

You nod, sending him a smile that says you’re cool, calm and collected, but it’s as much of a facade as it can be when inside you’re feeling the complete opposite.

“How about one more drink and then we head back to the hotel?” Mason suggests a few hours later, glancing down to his watch and noticing that it’s nearing 11pm.

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to go and talk to a few more people and then I’ll come and find you guys” Lewis tells you before heading to the other side of the room and you follow Mason over to the bar.

“Water?” Mason asks, voice low as you approach counter.

He knows you’re not the biggest drinker, only ever choosing to have one or two drinks when you go out, and you’ve already had a cocktail and a glass of wine with your dinner.

“Please” You smile, glancing over to him as he orders and pays for your drinks.

“Sorry mate, any chance we can grab a straw please?” Mason asks the bar tender when he places your water down in front of you, and you feel your cheeks warm at the simple gesture. You’ve always preferred drinking with straws, some people may think it’s weird, but to Mason it’s just one of the many things he loves about you.

You thank him as he slides the glass towards you, watching as he takes the paper wrapped straw from the bartender with a cheeky grin. He tears off the end of the wrapper, bringing the exposed end of the straw to his lips and you could predict what he was about to do from a mile off, but it still makes you jump when he blows on the straw, sending the paper flying and he laughs as it hits your cheek before landing on the counter next to you.

“Mason” You groan playfully, shaking your head at his childish behaviour. Still, you can’t help but laugh with him, and his heart soars at the sound.

It’s not long later that you’re leaving the venue after finishing your drinks and saying your goodbyes, stepping out into the chilly evening air as Lewis steps aside to call a taxi.

“Did you have a good night?” Mason asks, coming to stand beside you.

A gust of wind ruffles his hair, a couple of strands falling onto his forehead and you have to fight the urge to reach up and brush them away for him.

“Yeah I did, thank you for inviting me, it was special” you smile up at him, rubbing your palms against your bare arms in an attempt to keep warm when the wind picks up. The temperature has dropped significantly since earlier in the evening, and you’re now regretting your choice to not bring a second layer with you.

Mason doesn’t hesitate to slip off his suit jacket when he notices you shivering, slipping it over your shoulders before you can protest. You snuggle into it’s warmth, breathing in the scent of his cologne that still lingers on the fabric.

“Better?” He murmurs, making sure its wrapped around you enough before draping an arm around your shoulders.

“Thank you” You nod, melting into his side when he gently tugs you towards him.

The wait for the taxi isn’t too long, and you stay snuggled up to Mason’s side as he chats away to Lewis about your plans for getting back to Manchester tomorrow. You don’t pay any attention to their conversation though, too busy focussing on his little touches to listen to what they’re saying.

He holds you close, absentmindedly tracing patterns into your shoulder through the material of his jacket. You’re resting against his chest, and it rumbles underneath your cheek whenever he speaks, his soft voice soothing you.

You could stay wrapped up in him forever, but your bubble is popped when the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of you.

Lewis takes the front seat, letting you and Mason sit in the back together and you slide in when he holds the door open for you. He climbs in behind you, pouting as you settle into the far seat rather than the one next to his.

It’s only a short drive back to the hotel, and you spend it in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at Mason every now and then, unable to take your eyes away from him as the street lights shine through the windows, casting a golden glow over his features.

He turns his head suddenly, feeling the heat of your gaze, but you're quick to look away, cheeks blazing when you realise he’s caught you staring.

You start fiddling with your rings, one of the telltale signs that you’re nervous, but a warm hand intertwines with yours, stopping your fidgeting. Mason is already looking at you when you glance up at him, and your heart soars at the gentle look in his eyes. There’s a certain warmth behind them that tells you everything is okay, and you settle back into the seat, sliding your fingers between his and not letting go for the rest of the journey.

Mason is the first out of the car when you pull up in front of your hotel, quickly making his way around to your door before opening it for you and you accept the hand he holds out, letting him help you climb out. He quickly tips and thanks the driver before leading you into the hotel, through the lobby and towards the lifts.

You bid your good nights to Lewis when he steps out on his level, leaving you and Mason alone as the doors close behind him. You settle into another comfortable silence as you continue up to your floor.

The doors slide open and Mason moves aside, letting you step out in front of him before following you down the hall towards your room, wanting to make sure you get back safely.

You stop in front of your door, reaching into your purse to retrieve your room key before turning to thank him for walking you back, but the words get stuck on your tongue, not quite feeling ready to say goodnight to him yet.

“Stay with me tonight?” You whisper, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that has somehow been set in the hallway, “we can order room service and watch something, just like we do at home”

He doesn’t respond straight away, and for a very brief moment you worry that you’ve crossed some sort of line, but you watch as his gaze softens, and he keeps his voice low as he says “Let me just go and grab a few things from my room and then I’ll be back, yeah?”

“Okay” you nod, watching as he heads back down the hallway before letting yourself into your room.

You feel giddy, buzzing with nervous excitement as you slip Mason’s jacket off and lay it over the back of the chair before busying yourself with tidying a few things away, making the room look a bit more presentable as you’d left it a mess in your rush to leave earlier.

You’re not sure where the sudden jitters have come from, it’s Mason. You’ve always spent nights at each others houses, snuggled on the sofa, talking until late before falling asleep in each others company. But something about tonight feels different.

You don’t have long to dwell on it though, hearing two taps on the door as you put the last few bits back into your suitcase.

His smile is bright as you swing the door open, stepping aside for him to come in and your eyes drop to his chest as he brushes past you. He didn’t bother changing, but his tie is nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt now undone and his silver chain - the one that you brought him for his birthday last year - peaks out from underneath the fabric.

You click the door closed behind him, following him into the room and watching as he puts a few things down on the table beside the bed - his charger and what you think is his toothbrush, along with his wallet and a spare change of clothes for the morning.

“So, room service?” He asks, flopping down onto the bed and settling against the headboard.

He makes himself comfortable, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to just below his elbows as you grab the food menu from the desk in front of the TV. Your breath catches in your throat when you turn to face him, your mouth going dry as the dark ink on his forearm steals your attention.

A smirk ghosts his lips upon noticing your brief loss of composure, but he chooses not to bring it up, instead patting the spot next him.

You slip off your heels, putting them to the side before climbing onto the mattress to sit beside him. “How about pizza? I’m not too hungry so maybe we could share?”

“Sounds good, chips as well?” He suggests and you agree, trying to pass him the menu but he doesn’t take it from you, “You choose, I’m not fussed”

You decide on a classic margherita, letting Mason call downstairs to place the order whilst you reach over him and grab the remote from the table next to his side of the bed. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand falls on his upper thigh, not so innocently steadying yourself as you lean over him. You can’t say that you’d meant to touch him like that, but you won’t pretend that you didn’t love his reaction.

“Sorry” you mumble, cheeks flaming as you sit back and busy yourself with turning on the TV, logging into your Netflix account whilst he takes a deep breath next to you and finishes ordering the food.

You put on an episode of a series that you’ve been watching together, catching each other up on some plans that you have for the next couple of weeks whilst you wait for your food to arrive and you eat in a comfortable silence when it does, Mason letting you have the last slice of pizza like always.

After clearing away the tray and placing it in the hallway, you lock the door behind you and settle back onto the bed, tucking yourself into his side when he lifts his arm for you.

“Thank you for coming with us tonight. I know it’s a long way from home but it means a lot to have you at these things with me” He tells you, a warm feeling spreading through you as he pulls you closer and rests his cheek against the top of your head.

His arm settles around you, holding you at the waist as you rest your head against his shoulder. You sling your arm over his torso, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his free hand comes to rest on your forearm, fingertips tracing over your skin.

“Thank you again for inviting me, and you know I don’t mind” You tell him, tightening your arms around him slightly, “I’d fly to the other side of the world with you if you asked me to”

He chuckles into your hair, his smile widening. “Yeah? Looks like I should ask them to have the next gala in Australia then”

“Yes! You know I’ve always wanted to go and meet Kangaroos”

“It’s a long flight though, you’d have to let me sleep on your shoulder the whole way there”

“Oh,” you pout at him jokingly, “you wouldn’t buy me a business class ticket?”

His fingertips creep up your waist and you giggle, thrashing against him when they tickle over your skin through the material of your dress.

“I’ll take that as a no then” You sigh dramatically, slumping back into his arms when his fingers relent.

“I’d buy you as many business class tickets as you want, Bambi”

Here we go again with the butterflies.

You settle back into a comfortable silence, Mason keeping his arms locked around you as he tries to switch his focus back to the TV, but it’s impossible when you’re cuddled up to him so closely.

There’s something about being in your presence that makes him feel so calm. There’s no need for him to fake anything, no need for him to worry. He can just be ‘Mase’ without any added expectations or anyone analysing his every move. You accept him for him, and he thanks his lucky stars everyday that your parents met all of those years ago because he’s really not sure what he’d do without you.

But tonight he’s nervous. He’s not sure what it is because these feelings for you are by no means new, but after he nearly slipped up and kissed you once earlier, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself if it happens again.

He wants you. Physically, emotionally, whatever you’re willing to give him, he’d take it, and tonight might just be the night that he does.

He doesn’t realise that he’s been staring at you until you tilt your head to look up at him, having felt the heat of his gaze.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He whispers, a soft smile sitting on his lips.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as they drop down to your lips, only for a millisecond before returning to your own and your heart rate quickens, a giddy feeling spreading through you.

“Maybe a few times” you tease, lips curling into a smile, “but you can tell me again”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, “You look gorgeous, always the prettiest girl in the room” He tells you, heart thudding in his chest as a shaky hand comes up to cup your jaw.

His nose bumps against yours as he leans closer. His lips are mere inches away, your heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure he can probably hear it.

When you show no signs of hesitation he closes the distance, touching his lips to yours in a tender kiss that you feel all the way from your head down to the tips of your toes.

You feel yourself melting into him as he works his lips over yours with ease, one of his hands cupping your cheek as the other gently pushes against your hip, encouraging you to roll onto your back and your arms wind around his shoulders as he moves to hover over you.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of his lips against yours after what feels like an eternity of waiting for this exact moment, your hand weaving into the short strands of hair on the back of his head to hold him to you.

He keeps it soft, your whole body tingling from how gentle he’s being with you as his lips move over yours with a certain tenderness that has you craving more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that” He breathes, forehead resting against yours when you separate to catch your breaths.

His heart flip-flops in his chest at the smile that paints your lips, unable to prevent his own as you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes.

“Then who am I to stop you from doing it again?”

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to close the distance again, but when he leans forward he brushes a kiss over your cheek instead, a whine leaving you as you try and chase his lips but he only pulls back further.

“I need to know that you definitely want this Y/N” he whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you, “I know I do, but I’ll never forgive myself if later on you realise that you don’t”

His voice sounds small, the confidence that he exuded earlier slowly fading away, and your heart aches as rest your head back into the pillows to look at him properly.

You slide your hand up from his shoulder, cradling his face in your palm and your heart soars when he leans into your touch.

“Mason, my whole life I’ve known it’s been you” You tell him, gently brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek and a soft smile finds his lips at your words. “I want this, I want you”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything” You whisper, watching as his features relax.

“I might have to change my mind if you don’t kiss me again though”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, not waiting another second before leaning back in.

It’s like someone has flipped a switch, all form of restraint gone as he claims your lips with a searing kiss that has your spine tingling. He coaxes your lips apart, easily slipping his tongue between them and he takes his time to explore your mouth, brushing his tongue over yours with slow, deliberate strokes.

His hand roams down your dress clad body, kneading into your skin through the satin like fabric and you arch your back into his touch, hands gripping onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to feel him closer. His warm palm slides over your hip, finding the bare skin of your thigh, exposed through the slit of your dress, and he hooks your leg over his waist.

You moan into his mouth as he presses his hips into yours, the sound going straight to his centre and his length twitches in the confines of his boxers.

“You definitely want to do this?” He asks between kisses, his lips leaving yours to move over your cheek and down to your jaw.

You nod, tilting your head back to allow him better access as he trails his kisses down your throat.

“I need your words, Y/N” he urges, pulling back to look at you.

“Yes Mason, please” You plead, just wanting to feel his lips on your skin again.

He doesn’t waste anymore time, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck and you shiver when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, his lips peppering kisses wherever he can reach and you whimper when finds your sweet spot, your sounds only encouraging him.

He sucks on the sensitive spot below your ear, teeth grazing over your skin before soothing the sting with his tongue and then he’s continuing his kisses down your body.

“As much as I love this dress on, I’d much rather it be off right now” he speaks when his kisses meet the neckline of your dress, the material obstructing his path and stopping him from going any further.

You attempt to reach behind you to undo the buttons that hold it together, but you can’t quite reach them, your position on the bed just leading to an awkward tangle of limbs. You huff out a breath, slumping back into the duvet as he watches you, clearly trying to hold himself back from laughing.

You send him an unimpressed glare, trying once more to reach behind but you only end up finding yourself in the same predicament as before.

“Help me” you pout, and he leans down to kiss it away, loosening his hold on your waist before getting off the bed.

“C’mon, jump up” He holds his hands out for you and you take them, letting him pull you up until you’re standing in front of him.

He moves you so that you’re stood with your back to his chest, his hands lightly brushing down your arms and you shiver under his touch, instinctively leaning back into his warmth.

“May I?” He asks softly, his breath tickling over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Y-yeah” you stutter, trying to steady your beating heart as he brushes your hair to one side.

He must notice the way you tense up as he reaches for the buttons, his lips pressing to your shoulder in an attempt to calm you.

“Relax sweetheart, it’s just me” he whispers, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.

But what if that’s the issue? It’s just him, just Mason. The man you’ve loved for years. You’re comfortable in your body, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he changes his mind? What if -

Your thoughts are cut off when he gently takes a hold of your waist, turning you around to face him and you’re met with his soft expression, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He whispers, trying to meet your gaze but you look down, eyes focussing on his chest as a wave of shyness washes over you.

“Hey, look at me” He says, keeping his voice gentle as he brings two fingers to lightly nudge your chin so that you look at him again.

“Sorry, I just…” you begin, and he’s patient with you when you stop to take a few deep breaths, “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s just- the last guy I was with like this wasn’t the nicest and he had a fair amount of things to say about my body and - god I’m so sorry” You quickly cut yourself off when you notice you’re rambling, cheeks flaming when you release what you’ve just admitted to him.

Mason feels his heart breaking more and more with every word that leaves your lips. He could never understand how anybody could be so cruel. He feels himself growing angry at the thought of anyone treating you that way and frustrated with himself for not being able to protect you from someone like that.

He knows deep down that there’s nothing he could’ve done to stop it, but you should’ve never had to go through that, and it pains him to know that someone hurt you so deeply.

He doesn’t let his feelings show though, instead making a promise to himself to never, ever, make you feel anything less than beautiful. You deserve so much more and he’s ready to show you just how perfect you are and treat you the way you deserve.

“Listen to me angel, you have nothing to apologise for okay?” his voice is firm, making sure you’re looking right at him before continuing.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. No one should’ve treated you that way. You deserve so much more baby. You are the most beautiful person I have ever set my eyes on Y/N, and I need you to know that I’d never treat you like that.” He tells you, cradling your cheeks in his palms as he rests his forehead against yours.

You nod as best as you can, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your smile as his words sink in.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight Y/N, if you don’t want to we can just watch another movie or something, I won’t be upset. All I want is for you to feel comfortable.”

Your nodding quickly turns into you shaking your head instead.

“No Mase, I want to do this. I want you.” You reassure him and he leans back slightly, leaving a lingering kiss to your forehead before lowering his hands to your waist again.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course” you tell him, gulping down the nervous lump in your throat and willing your heart rate to slow down.

“Okay, you still want me to take this off?”

His fingers fiddle with the thin straps of your dress as you nod, trying not to seem to eager. “Please”

“Turn around for me then angel”

You do just that, turning around so that your back is facing him again and his touch is gentle, barely there as he reaches up to brush your hair to the side once more. His lips find the nape of your neck, scattering kisses over your skin, and this time you don’t tense up as he reaches for the fabric.

He’s slow in releasing the buttons, his fingers skimming over your now exposed skin as he takes his time, undoing them one by one before finally reaching the last after what feels like a life time. His lips never leave your skin as his hands lift to brush the straps off of your shoulders, guiding the material down your body before dropping it to pool around your ankles.

Left in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties, it takes all of your strength to turn and face him. He takes you in, allowing his gaze to drift down your body and he feels himself twitch in the confines of his boxers. The sight of you bare in front of him makes his head spin, feeling overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch you.

“So fucking pretty” he murmurs, his words setting your body alight as his hand slays out on your waist.

There’s a bright look in his eyes as he draws you closer, guiding you to step out of your dress, and you forget why you were ever worried.

“Thank you for trusting me” he whispers against your temple, scattering featherlight kisses there as you lean further into his body.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he trails his kisses down your face, over your cheeks before landing on your lips.

You melt into him, his grip keeping you upright as you kiss him back with everything you have. Your hands creep up his back, one finding its way into his hair as the other clutches onto his shoulder. Nails dig into his skin through the material of his shirt but he doesn’t care, losing himself in the feeling of your lips on his.

Your fingers rake through his hair, tilting his head to get a better angle and his lips part on a gasp when your nails scratch over his scalp. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips, clashing with his own as you fight to take control.

It’s a little messy, but neither of you care, years of pent up feelings and frustrations being poured into the kiss until the burning desire to please him becomes too strong to ignore.

“You’ve still got way too many clothes on” you complain between kisses and he chuckles against your lips, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

“No, sit” you say, and he falls back onto the edge of the mattress with a gentle push of your hands against his shoulders.

He leans back, gazing up at you through his lashes, watching with dark eyes as you settle into his lap with a new found confidence.

You leave enough space between you to reach up and fiddle with his buttons, undoing them one by one as your lips scatter kisses over his jaw. His pulls you forwards by your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you continue to undress him.

You struggle a little due to how close you are, but you manage to get the last few buttons undone, working the shirt off his shoulders. It gets discarded behind you, joining your dress on the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

His shoulders flex as he leans back on his hands and you take him in, eyes dragging down his chest from the chain that dangles around his neck to the small tattoo that sits high on his ribs, there’s a light dusting of hair on his chest, his muscles softly toned.

You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, but sitting under you now he has you unable to think straight. You have never been so turned on just by looking at someone.

Your need to please him becomes stronger by the second, your mouth having a mind of its own as you trail your kisses down his neck, lighting sucking on his skin until you find his sweet spot. A breathy whine falls from his lips, his fingers digging into your hips a little tighter and that’s when you know you’ve found it, your lips closing over the most sensitive patch of skin.

Your lips graze over the area, licking and nipping as you make your way down to his collarbones, careful not to leave any marks where they may be visible.

He shivers, trembling under your touch as your hands slide down from his shoulders and over his chest, your lips following their path. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tease at the skin right next to his nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a sneaky mark before continuing down to his tummy, making sure to pay special attention to any moles or freckles that you find on your way.

Your legs feel like jelly as you climb off his lap and lower to your knees in front of him, hands pushing his thighs apart to allow you enough space to settle between them. The carpet is rough against your skin, but you can’t bring your self to care as you shuffle around to get more comfortable.

He isn’t without your touch long, his muscles fluttering under your fingers as you graze your lips over the soft ridges of his abs, placing open mouthed kisses along the waist band of his trousers until he grows impatient, his hands aimlessly reaching for his belt.

“Let me” you murmur, moving his hands back to rest by his sides before finding the buckle.

You’re slow in pulling it from the loops, taking your time as you drop it behind you and move to undo the button and zipper, dragging it down at an agonisingly slow pace before sitting back and allowing him to lift his hips. You drag the fabric down his legs along with his boxers, mouth watering as his already hard length springs free from the confines of the fabric.

“Much better,” you drawl, and he lets out a whimper as your lips kiss a path along the inside of his thigh, ignoring the area he needs you the most before moving to the other.

“Y/N, please do something” he pleads, but you don’t need to be told twice, his thighs jumping when a dainty hand wraps around the base of his cock.

He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you give him an experimental tug, glancing up through your lashes to see his eyes fluttering closed, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

“Feel good, Mase?” You coo, and his eyes pop open again, the sight of you on your knees between his legs making him feel light headed.

“S-so good” he stutters, hips raising to meet your hand as you twist it over him again before releasing him all together.

You run your fingertips over the underside of his length and he lets out a breathy moan of your name, the sound going straight to your core as you swirl your fingers over his tip and smear the drop of pre cum that’s collected there.

“Fuck, Y/N” he curses, struggling to keep his eyes open as you move your hand back to his base, holding him steady as you lower your head, lips wrapping around his tip.

You flick your tongue over his slit, humming as the salty taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and he drops back, resting on his elbows and watching as you take more of him.

You relax your jaw, moving further down his length and taking as much of him as you can whilst your hand works what you can’t fit in your mouth. The sinful sounds that leave his lips only spur you on, continuing to bob your head as you gaze up at him through your lashes.

“Oh my-, fucking hell” he pants, his hand reaching for the back of your head to gather your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. “You’re so good at that”

His eyes squeeze closed when you take him even further and you gag, eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat before pulling back to catch your breath.

Your hands keep up their movements, twisting and tugging until you take him into your mouth again and you let him guide you this time, hollowing your cheeks as he lowers your mouth down his length.

You brace your free hand against his thigh, letting him pick up the pace slightly as you work him towards his release.

“Gonna make me come, Y/N” he sighs, the feeling of your warm mouth around him sending him hurtling towards his orgasm.

“I’ve got you, Mase, come for me” you coo, and he fights to keep his hips still as you pay attention to his head again, tongue swirling over his tip.

One final flick of your tongue over his slit and he’s cuming into your mouth with a grunt, hand tightening in your hair as you work him through his high, swallowing every last drop. You only move away when his hips start bucking from the sensitivity, leaving one final kiss to his tip before sitting back on your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

After a few moments of comfortable silence he smiles down at you softly, reaching out for you and you take his hands, standing on shaky legs before lowering yourself back into his lap.

“You okay?” he asks and you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his tongue moving over yours and he hums when he tastes himself on your mouth.

His hands trail up your thighs until he finds your panties, hooking his fingers under the fabric, pulling them back before releasing them to snap against your skin.

“Lets get these off” He mumbles, helping you climb off his lap and you move to stand in front of him, shimmying the scrap of lace down your legs as he watches you with crazed eyes until you’re completely bare in front of him.

“Lay down for me” he requests and you do as he asks, sinking back into the duvet as you rest your head against the pillows.

You watch as he stands, walking around the bed to pick his wallet up from the pile of stuff he brought with him earlier and he pulls out a shiny foil packet before climbing back onto the bed.

“Not so fast, baby girl” he tuts as you reach for it, trying to take it from between his fingers, but he places it to the side instead.

“Lay back and let me love on you a little bit”

He moves to hover over you and his lips are on yours in an instant, staying there for just a moment before trailing his kisses over your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and nibbling on your delicate skin as he makes his way down your throat.

“Mase” The moan tumbles from your lips, nails scratching the skin on the back of his neck as you bring your hand up in a desperate attempt to move him lower.

“What do you want, Angel?” He coos, voice vibrating against your skin as he kisses over your collar bones.

“Y-you, please”

“Patience, baby. Let me take my time with you”

And take his time with you he does, his lips dragging over every inch of skin that he can reach as he learns and memorises all of your favourite spots, the ones that have you making those sweet little noises he’s loving so much.

He mouths over your chest, kissing from one side to the other before closing his lips over your nipple and your back arches to meet his mouth as he licks over the sensitive nub, his hand sliding up your body to pay attention to the other. He gropes at your skin, pinching and tugging at your nipple before switching sides to pay them equal attention.

His other hand stays steady on your waist as his lips continue south, keeping you pressed into the mattress when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, causing you to squirm against him.

“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” He asks, and you glance down at him, mind reeling as he gazes back at you through his lashes.

You nod vigorously, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slides his hands up the insides of your thighs, separating them enough to settle between them and his breath fans over your core as he inches closer.

“Fuck, look at you” he coos, teasing two fingers through your folds to collect your wetness and your brain short circuits when he takes them between his lips, humming as you coat his tastebuds.

“Taste incredible”

He uses the same two fingers to circle over your clit, waves of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can’t help the pathetic moan that falls from your lips, head dropping back against the pillows as he shuffles closer.

“Feel good, Angel?” He hums, his lips ghosting over the inside of your thigh.

“Yes Mase, fuck. More” you plead, and his mouth finally meets your centre, a barely there kiss being pressed to your clit before he licks a long stripe up your entrance.

His hands move to hold your hips down as he eats you out like you’re his last meal, no longer wanting to hold back and your moans only encourage him. He alternates between licking and sucking, sealing his lips around your little bundle of nerves before dropping to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose nudging against your clit which has you moaning uncontrollably, back arching to meet his mouth.

Your hands fly to the back of his head, needing something to hold onto, and he hums against you when you tug on his hair, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure that you’re feeling.

You’re unable to think straight, the feeling of his mouth against your core making you forget about everything other then him and how good he’s making you feel, and it’s not long until you feel your orgasm creeping up.

“Mase, oh fuck” you sigh, and when he brings a hand between you to slip a finger through your folds, you’re done for.

His other arm hooks under your thigh, holding you open for him as he slips his finger inside of you, pumping it a few times to stretch you out before adding another.

“I’m gonna cum, Mase, oh my god” you whine, and he doesn’t relent, pulsing his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem with them as he swirls it around your bundle of nerves.

“Let go for me, baby” he encourages, and you cum on his tongue as he suctions his lips around your clit, seeing stars as your orgasm hits you like a wave.

He works you through it, licking you clean until you’re tugging at his hair and he moves away, crawling back up your body.

You lay limp underneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as you catch your breath, feeling well and truly spent from the orgasm he just gave you. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, and your make up is slightly smudged, but he still swears that he’s never seen anyone more beautiful, his heart fluttering at the sight of you underneath him.

“So pretty” he murmurs, peppering kisses over your cheeks and the butterflies - the ones that have made a permanent home in your stomach - come back out in full force.

You flutter your eyes open and the twinkle that you find in his own has your insides turning to warm, bubbly liquid, his expression swimming with fondness.

“How are you feeling, baby?” He asks, shuffling slightly so that he can rest his weight against one elbow before trailing his free hand up your thigh, massaging your hips where he was gripping before.

“Good” you smile up at him, fingers toying with the chain that still sits around his neck, “More than good, actually. But there is one thing that would make me feel even better”

He raises an eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You gather as much strength as you can in your post orgasm daze, hooking your legs over his waist to pull his hips down into yours and his eyes widen, realising what you mean.

“Needy girl” he tuts, hissing when you grind your hips and his hard length grazes over your core, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Please Masey. Need to feel you”

“I know baby girl, I’ve got you. Just relax for me”

He gives you a quick yet tender kiss before reaching over to pick up the foil packet from earlier and you shiver as he tears it open, squirming in anticipation as he sits back on his feet and pulls out the condom to roll it down his length.

“You still want to do this?” He asks you for what seems like the tenth time that evening, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Mase, what kind of question is that?” You chuckle, hand coming to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch when you brush your thumb over his skin gently, “Of course I do”

“Just double checking, Angel” he rests his forehead against yours, nose nudging your cheek and your heart soars at the softness of the moment.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, Mase. Need you”

You wrap your arms around his shoulder as he settles on top of you, spreading your legs for him to rest between as he finds a position that’s comfortable.

He runs a gentle, comforting hand over the outside of your thigh, using the other to guide himself towards your entrance and you suck in a breath as he lines himself up, his tip nudging against your slit.

Your quick intake of breath has his eyes snapping up to yours, concern etched onto his features. “What wrong, baby?”

“Nothings wrong” you reassure him, one of your hands finding its rightful place tangled in his hair, “It’s just been a while, just go slowly please?”

“We’ll go at your pace, baby. Just tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, okay?”

“Okay”

You reach down, encouraging him to move with a slow twist of your hand over his length and his lips are back on yours when he lines himself up with your entrance, swallowing your moans as he pushes in until only his tip is buried inside of you.

He gives you a few moments to adjust, not liking how you wince from the slight stretch, but you only nod up at him, encouraging him to keep going and you moan in unison when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. So tight baby” he moans, his raspy voice right next to your ear.

“Let me know when I can move” his thumb brushes in tender circles over your hip, his other hand pressing into the mattress next to your head and you reach for it, unwinding one of your arms from around his shoulders to side your fingers through his.

Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him in a way that has pleasure shooting up his spine and he drops his head into the crook of his neck when you give him the go ahead to start moving.

He keeps his pace slow at first, gauging what you enjoy and what’s comfortable. A slow push and pull of his hips as you learn each others bodies.

“You feel incredible, Angel” he grunts, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips press into you with every thrust.

“Mason, fuck” You scratch your nails over his skin, back arching as he gives one particularly hard thrust that has his tip brushing over your sweet spot, “right there”

“There?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits it again, a desperate moan leaving your lips as he keeps pushing deeper.

“Y-yeah, faster Mase, p-please”

Your stuttered request is barely audible over the sound of your moans but he hears you just fine, picking up his pace as you wrap your legs around his waist and the new angle allows him to hit deeper, finding that sweet spot with every roll of his hips.

Every single thrust feels incredible, his fingers now digging into your waist to hold you steady. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard as he works you both towards your highs.

“Fuck, Mase, I’m nearly there” you pant, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm and the feeling of him everywhere sending you hurtling towards your realise sooner than you’d expected.

“I’m right behind you, baby” he groans, pulling his head out of your neck when you tug on his hair, wanting to see him when you cum.

He looks ethereal on top of you, the bridge of his nose flushed as well as his cheeks, his hair a mess and falling over his forehead as that chain dangles between you. You reach for it, using it to tug him down and his lips collide with yours in a heated kiss.

“Mason…” you sob, unable to take your eyes off of his when he rests his forehead against yours.

“I know baby, I’ve got you. Let go for me” he encourages, his thumb finding your clit and that’s all you need to go falling over the edge, walls contracting around him as your orgasm hits you.

A wave of white hot pleasure rolls through you, your entire body trembling against him as he works you through it.

He isn’t far behind, pressing his hips to yours as the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length sends him toppling over the edge with a moan of your name.

His thrusts grow sloppy, hips faltering as he thrusts through it, thumb continuing to brush over your clit until you’re pushing his hand away when you get too sensitive.

With one final thrust he goes limp on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, spent from his orgasm. Your hand finds the back of his head, lightly scratching over his scalp as you both take a moment to catch your breaths. Neither of you make any effort to move for a while, Mason staying buried inside of you whilst your heart beats return to a steady pace.

You wince from the sensitivity when he eventually moves to pull out of you slowly, the kisses that he litters over your forehead soothing you before he discards the condom and collapses onto the mattress beside you.

He reaches towards the end of the bed, pulling up the blanket and you don’t hesitate to shuffle into his arms when he opens them for you, settling against his side with your head resting against his chest as he holds you close.

He knows that he should get you cleaned up, but he can’t bring himself to move as you snuggle into him, one arm draped over his waist and a leg hooked over his thighs, so he lets you get comfortable against him, enjoying the warmth of your body pressed into his.

A couple of minuets pass and you stay in a comfortable silence, fiddling with his chain as you rest on his chest, growing more tired by the second as his fingers sooth over your skin. He wishes you could stay like that for the rest of the night, not wanting to disturb you, but when you start to grow heavy against him he knows he needs to get you up before you fall asleep completely.

“Come on” he hums, lightly tapping your shoulder to encourage you to move. “Got to get you cleaned up, bubba”

You don’t make any effort to move, quite content with staying in his arms and not leaving for the foreseeable future.

“I’m tired” You groan as he resorts to gently pushing you off of him, rolling off the bed completely before holding his hands out for you to take, but you bury your face into the pillows and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, missing his warmth immediately.

The bed dips under his weight as he kneels back onto the mattress, hands massaging into your shoulders before rolling you over to face him.

You pout up at him, shaking your head in protest. You know you’ll regret it in the morning if you go straight to sleep without properly getting ready for bed, but nothing sounds better than climbing back under the sheets with him and falling asleep.

“I know, but the quicker we get in that shower the quicker we can get back into bed” he tells you softly, fingers brushing your hair out of your face as you gaze up at him sleepily. “Let me take care of you, bubs”

His gentle smile and sweet words are enough to have you crumbling, holding your arms out for him and he doesn’t need to ask to understand what you want.

He effortlessly scoops you up, a kiss being pressed to your temple as he cradles you in his arms and carries you through to the en-suite bathroom, careful to avoid the clothes that are still scattered around the floor.

He switches the bathroom lights on, keeping them on the dim setting when he notices you squinting from the brightness and moves to set you down on the counter.

Reaching to the side, he picks up your make up bag, looking through it to find some of your makeup wipes before taking one out of the packet. You try and take it from him but he swats your hand away, tilting your chin up with his fingers before bringing the wipe to your cheek.

Your heart flutters at how gentle he’s being with you as he takes his time, swiping the wipe over your skin as he makes sure to get every last bit of makeup. His little focused face makes you giggle, his tongue popping out from between his lips as he concentrates, being extra careful when he gets to your eyes.

He presses a tender kiss to your lips once he’s finished, throwing the wipe into the bin before turning around to get the shower started and your mouth dries at the sight of his back when he faces away from you.

Red scratches decorate his skin, some travelling as high as his neck and you watch as his back flexes when he reaches for the taps to set the water temperature. You feel yourself heat from head to toe at the sight, struggling to keep your composure when he turns to face you again, instantly noticing your flushed cheeks.

“What’s up, bubba?” He asks, hands coming to rest on your hips as he moves to stand between your spread legs.

“I don’t think you should let anyone else see you shirtless for a couple of days” You tell him, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a giggle.

“Why? What did you do?”

He moves away from you to look at his reflection in the mirror, eye brows furrowing when he doesn’t find any hickeys or marks like he had expected to.

He looks back to you confused, but you wiggle your finger in a circle, telling him to turn around. He does, looking back at his reflection over his shoulder and you can see the moment he realises, his jaw dropping slightly as he takes in the scratches and marks left by your nails.

“You really didn’t hold back did you?”

“Sorry”

“Don’t be. Just means that I made you feel good” he says with confidence, winking at you with a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

You swat at his chest, not needing to admit that he’s right because you both already know the answer.

He holds a hand out for you, helping you off the counter and steadying you when you stand on wobbly legs, your body aching in the best way possible as he guides you towards the shower.

He steps in behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and your body slumps into his, face finding a home in the crook of his neck as the water cascades over you.

“You okay?” He mumbles right next to your ear and you nod in response, letting out a content sigh as you nuzzle into his skin.

You stay like that for a while, the water soothing your aching bodies before he reaches over and takes your travel sized shampoo from the little shelf behind you. He squeezes a generous amount into his palm, lathering it up before bringing his hands to your hair and you hold onto his waist, needing something to steady yourself as the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp sends you into a state of complete bliss.

He rinses it out after a couple of minuets - still way too soon for your liking - and repeats the process with your conditioner, letting you do the same thing for him.

As soon as you’re both washed off he gets out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before taking another and holding it out for you. Getting out behind him, you step into the towel, letting him wrap it around your shoulders.

You both get dried off, changing into the fluffy hotel robes before he moves to leave the bathroom, wanting to give you some privacy to finish up your nighttime routine, but you take a hold of his hand, not wanting him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, bubs” he reassures, noticing a faint look of panic on your features. He slides his fingers between yours, giving them a tight squeeze, “I’m just going to tidy the clothes up and grab you something to sleep in okay? I’ll be back in a few minuets”

“Okay, sorry” you mumble, loosening your grip on his hand, feeling silly for getting so paranoid all of a sudden. “I just don’t want you to leave”

His expression softens. “I’m not leaving, Bambi. I promise. Could never leave you”

He presses a series of kisses to your face, one to your forehead, one to your cheek, one of your nose - that one has you giggling - and finally one to your lips, making sure that you’re smiling again when he disappears into the bedroom.

You busy yourself with drying your hair whilst he picks up your abandoned clothes, placing them into a neater pile next to your suitcase so that they can be dealt with in the morning.

He grabs the spare blanket from the wardrobe and puts it on the bed, switching the main lights off so that only the beside lamp is left on before changing into his clean pair of boxers and finding his toothbrush and the t-shirt that he brought with him earlier.

You’re just turning the hair dryer off when he comes back into the bathroom, brushing through your hair as he places his toothbrush next to yours on the counter. The sight of them next to each other has your heart flip-flopping in your chest, the action oddly domestic.

The multiple bottles and pots of skin care products that you have laid out catch his attention when he comes to stand beside you and he picks one up, reading over the bottle curiously.

“What’s all this?”

“You don’t know?” You meet his eyes through the reflection, surprised when he shakes his head in response. But his skin is always so clear?

“Can you show me?” He asks timidly, watching as you nod before jumping up onto the counter again.

You spread your legs, pulling him to step between them and his hands rest against your thighs as you pick up the first bottle, squeezing some of the serum onto your fingers before massaging it into his face. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation of you working the products into his skin, tracing the contours of his face as you tell him what each product is and explain what it’s used for.

He listens to your every word, loving how passionate you seem about it and making a mental note to ask you what they are again in the morning, so that he can buy some of the products for himself and keep some at his house for when you stay over.

You finish up with one of your favourite moisturisers before running through the same routine on yourself, letting Mason help when he insists and enjoying the feeling of being pampered by him.

“Thank you” you mumble, leaning forward to brush your lips over his in a soft kiss and he reciprocates, stepping back to allow you to jump off the counter when you pull away.

“Here, put this on” he says, handing you the t-shirt that he brought in, and you happily change into it, his scent lingering on the fabric and filling your senses as the material falls to your upper thigh.

The sight of you in his clothes is one he wants to see for the rest of his life.

You stand side by side at the sink and brush your teeth together, pulling faces at each other through the mirror as you do before following him back through to the bedroom.

You climb into bed first, getting comfortable under the duvet as he plugs his phone in to charge, begrudgingly setting an alarm for the morning. You both know it’ll be a struggle to wake up, but your flight back up to Manchester leaves at 10am, and you still need to make it to the airport before then.

But that’s a problem for the morning. All you’re concerned about now is holding him.

He settles under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your open arms and sliding you closer with an arm hooked over your waist. Your legs tangle together, bodies pressed close as he snuggles into you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck.

He sighs contentedly, melting into you as you rest a hand on his arm and trace the outlines of his tattoos with your fingertips, his own sneaking under your (his) t-shirt to draw random patterns onto the soft skin of your tummy.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in weeks. The feeling of being in your arms bringing him a sense of comfort that he never thought possible, but he knows you still have something to talk about, and he’s about to bring it up when you beat him to it.

“What does this mean?” You whisper, the question that’s been on your mind for the past half an hour finally slipping through your lips as you raise your free hand and brush your fingers through his hair.

“It means I’m yours Y/N” he mumbles into your skin before pulling his head from your neck. He shuffles up your body slightly, moving so that he’s hovering above you. “If you’ll have me”

Your hand moves from his hair to instead cup his jaw, your fingertips lightly scratching through his beard as you gently pull him down to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“I like you, like a lot” you tell him when you separate, but you keep him close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders

“I’m way beyond like, baby” He admits, a soft smile tugging at his lips and he knows it’s soon, but his heart feels like it’s bursting, and he can’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Y/N, I have been for a long time”

He watches you carefully, waiting for any kind of reaction, and he’s a little worried when you don’t have one, your face staying neutral as his words sink in.

But then comes the smile, your lips tilting up as a look of complete and utter joy paints your features.

You’re overwhelmed by different emotions, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re smiling and you can’t help but lean up and press your lips to his again, stealing his breath away with a searing kiss.

The taste of your minty toothpaste still lingers on his tongue when he pushes it through the seem of your lips, working it against yours in slow, languid strokes as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, his fingers gently tilting your head back and your hand slides around to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair.

Your chest is heaving when you eventually pull back, looking up up at him through your lashes as you catch your breath. His lips are swollen, cheeks flushed and his damp hair messy from you running your fingers through it.

“You don’t have to say it back, I know you might not feel the same but I-“

“Mason, are you kidding me?” You cut him off, cupping his face in both of your palms. “I’m so in love with you”

A breath of relief leaves his parted lips upon hearing your words, his heart rate settling as you look up at him with twinkling eyes.

“I always have been, Mase. You mean absolutely everything to me”

“Yeah?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding up at him with complete certainty.

“Mason you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never felt this way before and I know that I won’t feel it for anyone other than you. You’re it for me”

His eyes shine with emotion, his jaw aching from how hard he’s smiling. He feels like he’s floating, your words putting him on cloud nine.

“I love everything about you, Y/N. You’re so fucking beautiful, but it’s not just that. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re funny, you make me feel wanted in a way I’ve never experienced before, I’ve waited my whole life for this and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours Masey”

You lean up, pressing your lips to his in one final kiss and when he rolls off of you, you move with him. He lays back against the mattress, arms opening wide for you to climb into and you settle against his chest as he adjusts the duvet over you.

“When we get home I’m taking you on a date” he tells you, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “I know you’re already mine, but I want to do this properly, and that includes you letting me spoil you”

Mine. You want to hear it over and over.

“Can I choose the restaurant?” You query, already making a mental list of places that you could go.

“Only if you let me choose the movie when we get back to mine after”

“Who said that I’ll be going back to yours?”

“Just because it’s our ‘first’ -” he lifts his hand, making air quotes, “ - date that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the gentlemanly thing and drop you home with a kiss to your cheek after”

“Looks like you’re picking the movie then” You pat his chest, giggling as he mumbles a quiet ‘good’ and you settle back onto his arms with a yawn.

He leans over to turn the lamp off, the room overcome with complete darkness as he pulls the blankets up to your chin.

“Get some sleep, bubba. Early start tomorrow” He whispers with a kiss to your forehead and you groan into his chest.

“Don’t remind me. Can’t we just stay here forever?”

That really does sound like the best idea ever. Here. As in the little bubble that you’ve built together in this hotel room. You’re not ready for it to pop.

“I wish we could Bambi, but I want to get home and take you on that date”

“I wonder what Lewis will say” you murmur.

Your families have been rooting you you both to get together for years, so you know he’ll be happy for you, but telling him as well as the rest of your families somehow seems really scary.

“Well, I was thinking-“

“Oh no” you cut him off, and he chuckles, chest rumbling under your cheek.

“How about we keep this to ourselves for a bit?” He suggests, fingers sliding between yours where they lay against his chest. “No one needs to know just yet, we’ll just take it slow and tell them when we’re ready”

“I like the sound of that. Just me and you for a little while”

“Exactly” he sighs, already looking forward to getting you home and exploring this new dynamic with you.

He feels whole as he glances down at you through the darkness, a wide smile painting his lips and he doesn’t think it’ll be leaving any time soon. He’s spent what feels like a life time waiting for this, waiting for his person, waiting for you. He’s not sure he’s ever been happier than he feels in this moment, all of his worries forgotten about as you lay in his arms.

He can just about manage to make out your features and his heart is bursting at the seams with love for you as he leans down to press another kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Bambi”

“Night, Mase. Love you”

———————

a/n: If you have made it this far I just want to say a massive THANK YOU! I really do hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻 Feedback is appreciated as always 🤍

[wing-ed-thing]

... And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Part II

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags/Warnings: Naive!Servant!Reader, No Reader Pronouns, Canonically Mean Vinsmokes, But Reader is Kinda Into It, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Wall Punching, Language, Reader Falls First, Yonji Falls Harder

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: My draft of this story in it's entirety is over 14k... and I haven't even gotten to the scene I wanted to write.

The two of you met by mere happenstance, and it was even rarer that the library was ever docked onto an important area of Germa. Spring marked the time for a seasonal cleaning. So, like every year before, the laboratory grunts were to store old accounts in the library and perform an overhaul of laboratory references, guarded by one of Judge’s children. 

Yonji had been assigned guard duty this year, although the responsibility didn’t include much besides docking his fleet around the two storage snails. The men working in the laboratory would march back and forth carrying records and books, and you would assist in arranging your new inventory. 

Aside from the one bulky book tower, the library ship didn't comprise much. The impressive structure took up nearly the entirety of the support snail, sporting several conical turrets and a grand archway in the center. The stone arch formed a closed bridge-like structure connecting the two towers. The northern wing housed important but dated scientific records, while the southern wing stored traditional texts. 

With the bridge sitting near the eyestalks and the crew’s quarters located in the disconnected basement of the southern tower, paper took up more of the library snail than people did. 

Given how little traffic typically went through the library tower, inventory day marked your snail’s busiest day of the year. Approximately five ships anchored around you, not including the laboratory, which was attached directly to your snail. You considered yourself lucky to have soldiers and technicians helping with the sheer volume of inventory, which had been shipped in bulk and hauled onto the library snail via a lift.

Yonji’s ship had docked directly onto the library snail. You remembered when you spotted his green raid suit from the library’s grand window, barking orders and taking command of the troops below. The ensuing wave of emotion nearly knocked you off your feet, a pit of fluttering anxiety festering at the pit of your stomach as you retreated outside to greet him. 

You could recall every stone step down from the second tower and into the arch, and before you knew it, you were across the short yard. You greeted him formally and bowed. You were sure you were shaking. 

Every other member of Germa 66 had served as a guard for you in the past during this occasion. Ichiji and Niji had been assigned to you once each, while Reiju had been several times in the past. But Yonji, in all the time you had been acting as the royal library attendant, had never made an appearance before this past spring.

He didn’t regard you with much, his indifference a stark contract to your acute, starstruck trembling. You bowed politely, blathering something about your job and a promise to do it well. Yonji stared you down with nothing less than annoyance and slight disgust, which, unbeknownst to you, would mark a recurring theme. And that had been your unremarkable first meeting with the fourth prince of Germa. 

Like his siblings before him, Yonji didn’t involve himself much in your affairs. He seemed just about as interested in the reorganization process as he was in you, and you doubted that he’d even do a walkthrough when everything was finished, like Ichiji or Reiju. Instead, he busied himself with what you could only assume was his usual training regiment on the extended courtyard just outside the library window of the southern tower. 

You saw him occasionally, catching a glimpse of green as you walked back and forth between the northern and southern towers with the inventory. And to your surprise, Yonji and his men remained active from the time the library organization team began in the morning until sunset, far later than even the inventory team worked. (The inventory team rose early and stopped in the mid-afternoon.)

You sat in your usual plush chair by the window, the commotion just outside becoming a part of your nightly routine as you read your book in the glow of the sunset. You didn’t even catch yourself staring, drifting off in thought as you watched Yonji interact with the men outside. 

A little voice squeaked your name. You blinked to yourself, trying not to appear as caught off guard as you felt. The cook’s twin children sat on the velvet rug at your feet, eyes squinting in the setting sun's light. The little girl sat hunched, her hands gripping the ankles of her crossed legs, while the little boy lay sprawled out on the rug.

“Sorry, I thought I saw something outside,” you muttered a quick apology before clearing your throat to start again. “‘Well, Father, said Beauty, ‘as the Beast will accept either you or one of your daughters, I will give myself up to his fury, as it is on my account you have been involved in this trouble…’”

You continued to read aloud. Due to the archive ship’s distance from most of the larger snails, the library housed a single cook in a single, below-deck kitchen to support the small staff of you and a handful of soldiers and crew. And, like a surprising amount of non-combatant employees of Germa, the cook had children. 

However, children under the age of twelve were not allowed to roam freely within their respective parts of the caste, and once they were of working age, they were expected to learn servant’s skills. But considering the isolation of the library snail and the few staff members who stepped into the archive at all, you could afford to bend the rules a bit. But with a member of the royal family visiting, one of your many priorities was keeping the children quiet and occupied, especially after dinner.

By the time you closed your book, your voice was beginning to sound hoarse, and the sun had completely set outside. The kids on your rug yawned with drooping eyes. You peered at the clock. You had kept them for far later than you intended to, but you supposed it was better that they were a bit late to bedtime rather than getting into trouble around the ship when the prince was visiting.

“Why can’t we play outside? We usually play outside after stories, and we haven’t been outside in weeks.” the boy groaned, tensing his arms and legs in a full-body stretch before letting them hit the rug below. “We’re gonna get vitamin D deficiency and die.”

“Nice try. It’s been two days, and it’s nighttime.” 

The two children huffed. The girl stood and moved to the window to look out at the makeshift courtyard from the windowsill. She stood on her toes, barely able to peer out the glass. The boy rolled onto his stomach before pushing himself to his feet to join her. 

You quickly bolted up with them, ready to pull the two from the window. While you had no issue with the twins listening to a story in the library as the archive’s sole keeper, you anticipated that Prince Yonji might not take terribly well to being ogled at by small, unwelcome children as his battalion trained. 

But to your surprise, all of the soldiers were gone. You glanced at the clock again. You supposed that even people like Yonji had to sleep at some point. 

“C’mon, shark bites.” You set the book of stories on the round table next to your chair. “Let’s get you back downstairs.” 

The twins protested but were too tired to put up much of a fight. You scooped the boy up into your arms. He tucked his head into the nape of your neck, just about falling asleep instantly. You took the girl by the hand, ready to lead them out of the second tower and around the back to the two cellar doors leading to the servant’s quarters. 

Just as you pushed open the doors with your foot to corral the two into the hallway, you could have sworn you heard movement. You were too focused to pay it any mind.

***

It took several days for the books and files to be properly organized into their respective archives—and several evenings of extended, after-dinner storytime sessions—but as had happened every year before, the operation went smoothly. The moment he heard that everything was finished, Yonji immediately called all his men back to their respective ships to depart. 

“Master Yonji?” You trailed behind him, attempting to keep up with his wide-paced stride. Yonji paid no mind to you as he barked orders across the deck. “I don’t mean to insert myself into your affairs, but might I ask if you intend on performing a walk-through inspection? Mistress Reiju often likes to make notes concerning the new orientation to communicate with Lord Judge. And we’ve actually reoriented the delta files a level down this year—”

Yonji suddenly turned on his heel, causing you to smack into him. You recoiled, trying to resist the urge to grab at your nose. You might as well have walked straight into a wall. 

“I don’t remember asking for direction from you.”

The two of you stopped in the middle of the archway, his form barely shaded by its shadow. Yonji stared you down with his dark irises. You took a file out from under your arm. 

“I—” 

Yonji’s fist swiftly struck the wall next to your head. He had backed you up against the wall, now towering over you. The stone behind you crumbled as your knees locked together. Yonji hovered over you, letting out a steady stream of hot, irritated air from his nose. 

You were unaware of how his lips pulled slightly down and of Yonji’s rapid analysis of your face. Instead, your gaze remained solely on the gloved fist next to your head. 

That was the first time Yonji saw that spark in your eye. Your lips formed a passive line, but the shine of authentic amazement that glimmered in your gaze betrayed you. You held a crushing grip on the files in both hands, and neither you nor Yonji mistook the beat your heart skipped as fearful. 

He withdrew his fist, leaving the large divot in the stone. More fractured pieces fell, clacking on the solid ground below. 

Neither of you moved, nor did you say a word. 

You weren’t afraid of him, and Yonji should have been angered. If it were anyone else, he would have been. He stared down at you; his mouth contorted into a wolfish grin as he quickly decided he could make an exception for that stupid gleam of admiration in your eyes. You knew your place, Yonji considered, and it was marveling at his strength. 

Your fate was sealed.

***

Yonji hadn’t wanted you at his quarters the morning of his mission in Speleothem, nor did he call for you for the rest of the day. And so, for the first time in the last few months, you spent your time in the library, tending to the archive. 

You stood in the middle of the largest chamber of the southern tower, basking in the sunlight that flooded through the large window with a few books in your arms. You breathed in the smell of paper and sea air. It was a clean scent and one that you missed now that you spent so much of your time in the main castle. 

You wheeled over the rolling ladder, positioning it right next to the gap you could see a few shelves up. With the three texts tucked into your elbow, you climbed the rungs. The encyclopedias had been slightly stained by dirt and significantly roughed up by the Vinsmoke princes’ target practice, but the damage was nothing a rebinding couldn’t fix. 

The first book filled the gap on the shelf perfectly. Ichiji spent some time picking out his selection when the three princes entered your library. His intention to use the book as a part of his target practice didn’t stop him from picking out a pragmatic option: a collection of writings about early forms and types of gunpowder.

You ventured up the steps to the balcony, finding your next spot near the ceiling by the window. Niji had selected the bulkiest and hardest-to-reach text he could find within reach with the help of his jet-propelled boots. However, his efforts stopped at the very top of the stairs. Despite his intentions to torment you, his apparent curiosity seemed to fade with the effort of venturing up to the balcony. You placed the book in its spot, the compilation of weather patterns, maps, and navigational information making for a tight fit. 

Yonji had selected the last book, although his choice didn’t appear to have much reason behind it. You were sure he was going to take the book you already had out. A piece of the late queen’s collection, the completed set of folk stories and fairy tales from all four blues had a near-permanent residence next to your usual reading chair. You pulled it enough to read to the twins, if not to yourself, for nostalgia’s sake. 

You remembered how he stopped, head tilted downward, to read the book’s cover. With the two tips of his fingers, Yonji gently turned the book to face him. He had stared at it with his weight shifted to his back leg as he looped a thumb into the front belt loops of his slacks. He looked handsome, you had decided, as he stood posed in the afternoon light. 

But Yonji left the book be, instead opting for the first text he saw on the adjacent shelf: a detailed encyclopedia about birds native to the North Blue. It fit right into the space left for it. 

A gruff rumble sounded behind you. Your heart nearly jumped as you turned on your heel to see Yonji leaning against the open double doors. He cleared his throat again, pushing off the wall with his shoulder. 

“Prince Yonji!” you exclaimed, quickly bowing. “How might I be of service?”

Your heart pounded as you wondered if your eyes were deceiving you. You had been convinced that talking out of term had banished you back to the library for good, but you couldn’t help the deep pang of excited dread that came with Yonji’s rare presence in your archive. 

His eyes narrowed to the side as he approached you. The slightest pout played on his lips as he glanced around. His gaze traveled up the curved staircase to your left and along the balcony as far as his peripheral would allow. You rose from your bow.

“What information do you have on Rivulette?” he asked, and his question filled the air.

You replayed his words in your head, wondering if you heard him right. You tilted your head to the side, blinking as you tried to process what he asked of you. Of all people, Prince Yonji Vinsmoke couldn’t possibly be asking for a book— at least not in person or when he could easily search his own electronic database. (It was likely far more accessible than anything in your library, anyway. The library was extensive, but it was an archive at the end of the day.) 

“Rivulette, as in, the island?” you questioned. Yonji scoffed. With a few shakes of his head, his lashes fluttered closed. 

“Obviously.” He lifted an arm and rotated his shoulder backward to readjust how his usual white, short-sleeved button-up sat around his biceps. Yonji looked off somewhere into the room again with teeth gritted. “Do you have it or not?”

“I think we have some texts on Rivulette, but I don’t know if they’ll be what you’re looking for.” You scurried over to the rolling ladder. Yonji followed indifferently behind you, his scowl still ever-present. “It’s mostly basic geographical—”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he gruffed, standing directly beside where you moved the ladder. He did not hold it for you as you climbed the rungs. 

You stopped three steps up, conscious of his watchful gaze, as you pulled a collection of texts from one of the upper shelves. Yonji watched silently from below, although you weren’t too far above his head. At his height, you were sure that Yonji could have pulled the books himself even without the ladder. 

“I have a geographical account from about a hundred years ago, an autobiography from Rivulette’s eighth president, Brooke Waters…” You trailed off, tilting the shelved texts to allow Yonji to read the spines. You continued to rattle off the titles of the few books you had, all undoubtedly useless, especially considering the context. Yonji had to have a more extensive and relevant wealth of knowledge in his computer system. 

“What’s that one?” Yonji gestured to a text at the very end of the compilation. The spine was easily four inches thick and partially obscured behind a section of your ladder. 

“This one?” You pointed to it, glancing down at— or more accurately toward— Yonji, who rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, that one.”

“It’s an encyclopedia with information on native geography, plants, and animals—”

“Give me a summary.”

You blinked at him. Yonji stared back at you, awaiting an answer.

Oh, he was being serious.

“A summary of all the landmarks and wildlife on Rivulette… from the beginning of time?”

Yonji huffed, shifting his weight to his back leg as he pivoted slightly away from you. He ran a hand up his face into his hair with a shake of his head. When he turned back to you, he appeared to do so reluctantly, folding his fingers on his palm in a waving gesture.

“Just… bring ‘em all down,” he groaned again. Yonji placed his hands near the back of his hips, rotating his torso to stretch as he waited for you to complete your task. 

You eyed the collection of books. While the amount wasn’t necessarily as extensive as some of your other accumulations, the sum of all the spines easily amounted to an arm’s length. You began at the far end, taking two sizeable texts in your hand. You collected them in the crook of your opposite elbow before reaching back for more. 

Yonji observed your efforts with a creased brow and a judgemental dip of his lip. His hands still settled on his hips, although they had balled into scrutinous fists. 

The ladder wobbled beneath you as you piled a total of five books into your elbow, balancing yourself only by the strength in your legs. You missed Yonji’s deep scowl as he stepped toward you. 

“This is ridiculous” was about all the warning you received before you were scooped off the ladder altogether. Yonji lifted you from below, wrapping a singular, muscular arm diagonally around your hips as he effortlessly placed you on the ground below. He did so unceremoniously and easily, like your body weight— along with the small mountain of books that you nearly dropped on the floor in shock— was nothing. 

Yonji moved the ladder out of the way and reached up to grab the rest of the stack with little exertion. Much like how he had forced you out of the way, his actions were straightforward as he supported the pile under his arm. He brushed past you toward the ornate table situated (and screwed down to the floor) just a short distance behind you. 

Yonji placed his sizeable stack on the shiny wooden finish, and you put your smaller collection next to his, seeming to be playing catch-up as Yonji took a seat at the head of the table. 

“Prince Yonji—?”

“Sit.”

You immediately did as you were told, pulling out a chair adjacent to his as Yonji began to separate the books. He appeared deep in thought, studying the covers briefly before spreading them across the immediate surface. Every so often, he would flick one open to thumb through the pages, grumbling to himself before placing the text in its designated pile. 

You studied him, trying to hide your acute surprise as he craned his neck over the encyclopedia from before, his eyes pouring over the glossary. He looked out of place hunched over a large book. For his appearance and general demeanor, you had never thought Yonji to be one for the quiet accumulation of knowledge. 

He was, after all, a physical being in all senses of the word. Yonji boasted a bulky build, which strained most of his clothes, and referring to him as tall was a drastic understatement. It wasn’t difficult to see how much pride he took in being Germa 66’s offensive tank, nor was it hard to notice his immense pride in his physical prowess above all things. You didn’t recall ever seeing Yonji eager to sit still very long for anything, more interested in finding nearly anything else as an excuse to test his strength and power.

You should know. You had been the one tending to his every whim for the past few months. 

And so he sat at the edge of his chair, his forearm reaching across the top corner of his book to grip the top open and flat with a wide, sturdy grip to read. Yonji slung an ankle over his opposite knee, tilting his head at an awkward angle as he sank further into his light research. 

“Commentary.” The word carried a downward inflection like a mix between a demand and a question, but you knew better than to take it as anything less than a command. 

The single word stalled your thoughts. Yonji glanced up, his posture gradually reverting upright as he gripped the page he was on to guide the book closed slowly. Your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. Yonji’s dark irises stared curiously into yours.

“Commentary on…?”

He leaned back in his chair and coiled his arms over his chest. The hem on the cuff of his short sleeves strained on his biceps. The hems of his clothes were always a bit too small for him, but you supposed that Germa 66 went through too many textiles to put much stake into personal tailoring. 

“I bet you’ve read every book in this goddamn room,” he said, but his words were spoken like an accusation. Yonji gestured loosely with the bob of his shoulder, glancing briefly at the thousands of books that lined the walls. 

You stared down at the encyclopedia, eyes slightly widened as you pondered the best way to answer him.

“I can’t say I’ve read an encyclopedia cover to cover, Prince Yonji,” you spoke quietly. 

Yonji let out a bellowing laugh, letting his mouth hang open wide as he threw his head back. But he cut his laughter short, reassuming his almost hunched-over position at the table with a foxlike glint in his eye. Yonji slid the large book over to you before resting his cheek in his palm. His right hand gripped the armrest of his chair, his elbow creating a ninety-degree angle.

“What do ya remember about this one?” 

The corners of his lips were upturned, not too dissimilar to how he looked when he was up to something mischievous. But the milliseconds you spent trying to figure him out only revealed the true seriousness that lingered just below the surface. 

“Sparking sparrows,” you answered quickly, still unsure as to what he was getting at. Yonji’s frame visibly sunk. The upturned corner of his lips faltered as he glanced off to the side with a deep heave of his chest. 

“Birds?” he spat.

“They’re very small but have very sharp beaks,” you offered. Yonji grew less amused by the second, although you didn’t quite understand why. But despite his evident dismay, he motioned for you to continue. You flipped through the pages quickly, pulling up the entry you were looking for. “They let off little sparks, um, and they use this electricity to terrorize wild snails. There are several accounts of them sticking their heads into transponder snail shells. They’ll actually go out of their way to—”

He shook his head with a deepening frown.

“No, what do you remember about the geography?” 

You sat at the edge of your seat, your lips pursed into a slight line. One of Yonji’s brows twitched in annoyance, and while you weren’t quite sure what he was looking for, you knew at your very core that your answer was not it.

“It’s very pretty?” You unconsciously shrunk farther away from him, which only served to sharpen your posture. You held a death grip on the lap of your uniform, pooling the fabric in your fingers. 

“Ugh, forget it.” Yonji stood suddenly and harshly, causing you to to nearly recoil back into your seat. He slammed his chair into the table, the two hard wooden surfaces coming together with a loud bang before he stalked off. He gestured to the table behind him. “Clean this shit up.”

***

Yonji didn’t like feeling stupid, although he didn’t know what to do with that information other than work off the steam. After an evening of training that was a bit more destructive than it needed to be, dinner, and then a post-workout workout, Yonji finally felt like he had reached an equilibrium. 

Yonji didn’t know what he had been thinking. And your eagerness to please, the very trait that Yonji kept you around for, had vexed him that day. You tried to piece together his ambiguous requests, but each question only served to heat his demeanor little by little in annoyance. He didn’t even know what he was looking for when he visited you in the archive, and your simple questions did little more than call attention to how silly he felt in coming to you.

In fact, by the end of his last gym session, he was convinced that it had all been a waste of time. Yonji, a top commander in Germa’s military force, had followed a lead that turned out to be a fluke. 

He could make peace with a fluke, he decided. But he had wanted to listen to his gut, and with the memories of Speleothem constantly ruminating in his head since the job, Yonji had always followed his instincts. 

But now, he stood in the penthouse office on Rivulette with his siblings. Ichiji and Niji bickered over how to best crack the encrypted snails the client hadn’t told them about in the background. Yonji couldn’t help the heavy pang that reverberated through his chest as he locked onto the window on the opposite end of the room.

He thought he had been shot by something.

“Keep it together, Yonji,” Ichiji gritted. The room was still. 

Yonji hardly heard him. His entire focus was on the small bird he spotted perched just outside the window. The bird pecked at the glass, leaving slight scratches with its shallow electric sparks. He walked over to the window, stopping just before the glass. The bird continued to peck, undaunted by the figure that loomed on the other side. The hand that Yonji held over his chest slowly rose to his mouth and over his right eye.

“Oh, man,” he breathed, glancing behind him. Ichiji and Niji continued to bicker.

Yonji turned back toward the bird, and suddenly, a whole night’s worth of thought spiraled down the drain.

Yonji opened the window.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: It would be my honor and privilege to remind everyone that Yonji stands at a whopping 194 cm (6'4"), so no one better come at me for the size difference. That man is a beast (pun intended).

And I spent an obscene amount of time making gifs to use for this series. It's not even funny.

Also, I use a grammar checker that completely messed up and started deleting random words/parts of words in the middle of the text. Please let me know if there's a crazy typo somewhere.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Apr 29th

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1. Itmf wangxian but A) it's a universe with mechas and wwx may/may not be a mecha genius or mecha master?

B) wx but make it Interstellar univ

C) wwx transmigrating please

1A)

The Weight of the World by KouriArashi (T, 67k, WangXian, XiYao, XuanLi, Pacific Rim Fusion, Robots, Monsters, robots fighting monsters, Family, Romance, Developing Relationship, Angst, (but not about the romances), Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Happy Ending)

Thunder's Coming Over Me by phnelt (E, 38k, WangXian, WIP, Avatar & Benders Setting, Pacific Rim Fusion, temporary character death (wwx's), Angst with a Happy Ending, Action & Romance)

I’ll buy you the moon (I’ll buy you two) by Thesaurus_with_no_words (E, 27k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Space, Rebels, Space Opera, On the Run, Promoted To Parent, Robots, Androids, Mechs, Battle Mechs, Hurt/Comfort, Technopathy, Willful and Deliberate Baby and Wife Acquisition, Porn With Plot, Mpreg) would this count if the mech fighting is only mention and wwx is currently a technopath?

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2. Itmf request! Any fics where LWJ and WWX get together (even if just as friends) before LWJ figures himself out and so he's embarrassed by WWX or otherwise reticent or dismissive about their relationship?

Cleaning & Courtship by Winxhelina (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, Getting Together, First Kiss, Bunnies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff) fits the bill I feel. Lan Wangji definitely isn’t dismissive on purpose but he is awfully embarrassed and flustered in chapter 2. (And in fact In the secret chapter 3 that has been in my drafts for ages, but we don’t talk about her. The story is done. Supposedly.)

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3. heyy there, feeling for some angsty fics of lwj finding out wwx death or just grieving for him over the years. thanksss

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (WordsWritInStarlight) (G, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, LSZ is the best of boys and I will not hear debate, Music, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Found Family) This is sorta third party POV, with Sizhui being the third party. Angsty yet tender, with Sizhui growing up hearing Inquiry. I swear I went through a pile of tissues the first time I read it, but in the best way! Highly recommend the podfic version for extra feels!

to remember names of plants series by detention_notes (T, 8k, Diary/Journal, Character Study, WWX's canonical humor as deflection, WQ is a lesbian, Friendship, Parenthood, Pining, thinly-veiled anger and fear, small moments of hope, planning for uncertain futures, is this angst?, gentle angst, Reminiscing, Found Family, Parenthood, Reminiscing, Pining, Grief/Mourning, Epistolary, Healing, Childhood, Love, LWJ's single parenthood, how to love a memory, how to raise the next generation, Canonical Character Death, Yearning, LWJ's concentrated stream-of-consciousness emotions, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending)

New Perspective by mrcformoso (T, 8k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, Major Character Death, Angst, Hopeful Ending, Fatherhood, Regrets, Flashbacks, POV LWJ, LWJ-centric, Canonical Character Death - WWX, Pining LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ Needs a Hug, Character Development, Dead WWX, LWJ deals with the death of his love, And learns to be a father along the way, Introspection, Feelings, LWJ is Bad at Feelings, Character Study, WWX's death in The Untamed was too raw, Regretful LWJ, Breaking Toxic Cycles, Canon Compliant, LWJ in Seclusion, Post-LWJ in Seclusion, Child LSZ)

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4. hello! thank you for all the lovely work you do mods, this is my favourite account for finding fic recs :)

i wanted to ask for recommendations of fics where lwj is pining for wwx and maybe genuinely emotionally hurt, or some temporarily unrequited love? the angstier the better tbh, i want to see lwj go through it (before wwx makes it better). only happy endings though please :’)

thanks so much!! 💖

Continuation by thefaceofno (T, 14k, WangXian, Canon Continuation, WWX builds a lotus pond in cloud recesses, Hair Brushing, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, gay disaster LWJ, Post-Canon Fix-It)

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending)

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5. fics of lwj being protective of wwx?? have a good day, thanks. ❤️

Inchoate by Marinelifeclub (T, 20k, WangXian, WIP, Child Abuse, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Protective LQR, Protective LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Not YZY Friendly, Not JC Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer, Dark JFM)

🔒 between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating)

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6. Hi! For the next itmf, do you have anything with jyl acting as a mother to wwx? Or anything similar

Fatherhood’s Calling by Fortune_Maiden (G, 1k, JYL/JZX, JZX & WWX, post-sunshot, crack, humor)

The Teapot Plot series by ToxicAngel13 (E, 127k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, Misunderstandings, protective Jiang siblings, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Burial Mounds, Potential for M-Preg, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Mpreg)

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7. Hi! Someone suggest coming here to ask for wangxian fic recs so here I am >^<. Anyways, do you know any fics where wangxian got together before wei wuxian's death? As in, wwx still dies and comes back later in mxy's body.

Thanks in advance!

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8. in the mood for a wangxian fic thats shows/movies rewritten to fit wangxian, i recently read this mamma mia and love O2O au and fell in love with wangxian being put in shows/movies @yesibest

all your life you’ll dream of this by Attila (T, 22k, WangXian, Fairy tale, Cinderella Fusion, Pining)

🔒 the stars in the hazy heaven tremble above you by cicer (G, 64k, WangXian, Fantasy, Cinderella Fusion, Mutual Pining)

the rivers start to sing by fruitys (M, 27k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Tangled (2010) Fusion, Fairy Tale Elements, Strangers to Lovers, True Love's Kiss, or something like that, Sharing a Bed, Wound Tending, Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, the inherent intimacy of traveling with a beautiful stranger, and completely depending upon one another for 3 days)

Down comes the night by danegen (E, 67k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Canon Era, inspired by From, Horror, Sharing a Room, POV LWJ, no jiangs, a whole village of OCs, tiny mention of past wwx/omc, Happy Ending)

The Dragon's Bride by jaws_3 (T, 34k, WangXian, Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Arranged Marriage elements, Slow Burn, sometimes ya get sent off to atone for ur villages misgivings and u just gotta deal, Dragon LWJ, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Spanish Translation Available)

Something Good by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Teaching, Sound of Music AU)

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9. Can you all recommend me some fanfic (preferably if long and not modern AU) also if it's completed. @lanwuxian0725

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27)

Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not rated, 810k, WangXian, watching the series, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery, WIP)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 786k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending)

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

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10. Itmf: anything with wwx meeting his family on his father’s side? Preferably Pre-canon or a canon divergence

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 295k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever)

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11. Hi! As always thank you for everything!!! Do you have recs where lwj kinda gets hurt and wwx just go ylz crazy?? Thank you!! @gideonmorningstar

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon)

cold black light by rynleaf (E, 2k, WangXian, PWP, Major Character Injury, Unorthodox Methods of Healing, Rough Sex(Ish) Anal Fingering, The Yiling Patriarch, Blood, Bottom LWJ, Aftercare, LWJ is in love, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Podfic Available)

love what’s burning right in front of you by seularen (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, BAMF!WWX, description of murder, Case Fic, Political Intrigue, YL WWX, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, but Big Switch Energy)

to be wielded by your hands by Vir_Abelasan (M, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Smut, Competence Kink, Knifeplay, Established Relationship, LWJ has a Yiling Patriarch kink, Consensual sealing of meridians, kink negotiated on the fly, Strength Kink, Resentacles)

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12. hiii!! thank you for all the work you do.

i'm itmf some wwx age regression? like he gets cursed somehow and turns into little a-ying and it's just all feels with the juniors and lwj taking care of him :(((

❤️ grow by cafecliche (T, 14k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Character Study, Post-Canon)

found your writing on my wall by howodd5ever (T, 25k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, De-aged WWX, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Referenced Child Neglect, discussion of parental loss, child food insecurity, Case Fic, kind of, Nightmares)

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13. hello! i was wondering if there are any fics where Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian become like besties/sworn brothers or like really close? thanks <3 @nyxiblue

❤️🔒 Candy & Conspiracies by Reverie (cl410) (T, 16k, wangxian, JZX & WWX, jin wwx, fluff & crack, found family, humor, no angst) WX is taken in by the Jin instead of the Jiang, & he, JZX, & MM are besties

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 56k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad) has Wei Wuxian become sworn brothers with Jin Zixuan

Twin Treasures by crossdressingdeath (T, 81k, WIP, JZX & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Can’t quite tag this as ‘everyone lives’ but I promise everyone who dies will DESERVE IT, mostly novel-verse with a bit of CQL here and there, currently being edited) has Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan become actual brothers.

watch what we'll become by glitteringmoonlight (T, 60k, JZX & WWX, WangXian, Background JZX/JYL, WWX & JZX are married but completely platonically, featuring my let WWX and JZX be bros agenda, slow burn? is it even a slow burn if they confess but can't be together for Reasons?, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst with a Happy Ending, you've heard of enemies to friends to lovers, now get ready for enemies to reluctant husbands to begrudging best friends)

🔒 Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k, Platonic Soulbond, Hurt/comfort, Canon   Divergence, No golden core transfer, JC&JZX stay in Xuanwu cave, Fix-it, Temporary character death)

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14. ITMF ask, I’m looking for any golden core fix it fics. (with minimal to no JC bashing plz) I’ve looked through the comp and it doesn’t clearly separate fix-its, golden-core revels and golden-core fix its. And some authors don’t explicitly tag a golden-core fix-it or wwx getting a new core as explicitly that, sometimes they just leave it tagged as a fix-it and it’s missed. So give me any good ones you’ve got. @omgnectarina

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Universe Alteration, the yiling patriarch survives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catharsis, Slow Burn, Drama, Getting Together, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Melancholy, Love, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Love Confessions, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Switching, Grief/Mourning, fucking while pining, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Harm, golden core transfer, Playing fast and loose with worldbuilding, Plot, Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, implied / Referenced suicide attempt, Sect Leader WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect, mind all the tags) might count as a GC Fix-It?

🧡 Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions)

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending)

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWX’s core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal)

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Can’t Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)

I’m Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, lqr’s epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

15. helloo, itmf wei ying near death experiences, canon or modern is finee. thankss.

🔒 a candle blown out by RoseThorne (T, 1k, LWJ & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, JFM & WWX, Near Death, Depression, Psychological Trauma, Justice, Fear, Angst, No War AU, Attempted Murder, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LXC, Podfic Available)

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

🔒 Bright Voice Roughly Rendered Softly Silent by Preludian_Staves (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Muteness, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Not JC Friendly, Confessions, Angst, Choking, Red String of Fate, Appearances by Paperman!WWX, Inventor WWX, Good Uncle LQR, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, Feelings Realization, Caretaking, Supportive Lan Family, Genius WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective Lan Family, Character Death (not wwx or lwj))

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer)

When You Wake, 怎能当梦一场 by acertainrogue (T, 39k, WangXian, WWX is in a coma, Angst with a Happy Ending, Modern AU, Single Dad LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Parenthood, YZY’s A+ Parenting, JFM’s A+ parenting, wangxian family)

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist, Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

~*~

16. Hi, thank you for all the work you do.

Wondering if there's any fics where Jiang Cheng does manage to capture Wei Wuxian post res and drag him back to Lotus Pier. (Like lwj doesn't get to him in time or jl doesn't get to save him) Preferably JC unfriendly, thanks!

~*~

17. This blog is amazing thank you mods!!!!

A) Do you know of any Jin Zixuan lives and brother in laws Wei wuxian and jiang cheng

Or

B) Sister in law Jiang Yanli with Lan zhan

17A)

Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (G, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings, LWJ Needs a Hug)

17B)

Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JZX & JGY, JYL & WXX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault, some murder on occasion, People talking about their feelings, processing their trauma, The good shit) Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are engaged but not married yet at the end.

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[ohyoufool]

My Check Please Fic Masterpost! 🏒✍🏻

👉🏻 Find me on ao3 at nostalgicplant!

Season of the Witch

Zimbits | 2k | Magical Realism AU | Complete

Bitty has three major problems: First, he is in love with his best friend. Second, he is magic. Third, he has no idea how to address either of those. A not-too-serious magic AU.

Sloshed With Gold

Zimbits | 14k | NHL!Bitty and Photographer!Jack | Complete

Lardo calls in a favor. It involves Boston Pride, photography, and a certain blonde-haired NHL player that Jack can’t get out of his head.

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ

Podfic read and mixed by @chaoskiro

"boston pride hq playlist" by @ohyoufool

Creation Myth

Cowritten with @montrealmadison

Zimbits | 24k | Canon Divergence | Complete

Jack Zimmermann overdoses the night before the draft and becomes the face of the Aces anyway. It goes about as well as you would expect.

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ

"what happens in Vegas" Official Playlist by @ohyoufool and @montrealmadison

Fic Binding Video by @ohyoufool

Call of the Champions

Lardo/Camilla, Zimbits | 13k | 2002 Winter Olympics AU | Complete

“Couldn’t find a mini American flag. Ran into an angel in the hallway. Don’t worry about it.” She shrugs her jacket tighter around her neck. Shitty blinks. “That’s a lot. I was doing shots with the bobsled team in the bathroom.” In the middle of a medal hunt during the 2002 Winter Olympics, Lardo manages to find something else she wants just as bad as the gold.

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ

"Call of the Champions: A Lamilla Winter Olympics AU" Playlist by @jubileesbian

Official art by @virgoscringe

Austin

Zimbits | 18k | Canon Divergence | Complete

Bitty: a lesson in bitterness. “Say please,” Bitty breathes, something swelling inside his chest. Jack looks dazed, drunk at the sight of Bitty above him. “I’ll do anything you ask." He fills the space between them with his offer. “If you beg.”

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ

"austin" Official Playlist by @ohyoufool

[twinkboimler]

Thanks for the tag @affixjoy!

"Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

God, this is difficult. I have 79 fics on ao3, 49 of which are for Star Trek!

shore leave at yosemite, take two: I am still so proud of how this one turned out. For a fic that's, at its core, about old men exploring each other's bodies in the woods, I'm so happy with my characterization. Explicit mcspirk that takes place at the end of Star Trek: The Final Frontier. I think this fic is funny and smutty and just my love letter to these old men.

observations: AOS mckirk smut that I wrote after going through the tag and being shocked to realize that there's not much in the fucking machines tag. This fic is DIRTY (14k of smut!) but shocking no one it ends up being super sweet. Hell, even I wasn't expecting that ending; it was like someone else was writing and suddenly it was on the page.

the life of the party: post-star trek beyond spones smut. I think the reason I'm so proud of this one is because it was sitting in my drafts folder for a year. I hadn't been happy with it, and it wasn't until I completely rewrote the second half that it turned into this. It's a fic where Spock has decided that Leonard would make a good romantic partner and insists on having that conversation while at a house party. Another fic that I think is funny on top of being smutty.

Under the Surface: this fic is my baby. AOS spirk, explicit, 30k. This fic was the first time I'd put extensive time and energy into thinking about what themes I really wanted to explore in a fic, focusing on integrating those themes throughout. I think it's not a fic for everyone--it's a spirk fic, yes, but what it's really focused on is Jim and his issues. I really enjoyed writing neurodivergent Jim in this fic.

An Endless Stream of Tomorrows: TOS movies-era spirk fluff. Following the events of The Voyage Home, Jim proposes. This fic is short and sweet and I think no matter how many trek fics I write, it'll stay in my favorites. Spock putting the ring on makes me teary-eyed and I'm the guy who wrote it!

Tagging: @thetimetostrikeislater @ladywaffles @antspaul @fangirlandiknowit101 and @kaklord

[hunxi-after-hours]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

(if you feel like it, no pressure ❤)

!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg I'm deeply flattered!!! hmm let's see...

我拿青春赌明天 / I’ll wager my youth against tomorrow — aka time war wangxian. hands down the fic that I'm most proud of, and not just because it's the length of a novella sdkfsjdl. I really pulled out all the stops on this one: disgustingly ornate prose, research, gratuitous references, almost 14k of annotations. at one point I had a spreadsheet going to track all the moving pieces, and I still have the original notebooks I wrote this in since I drafted this one almost entirely by hand

我借过一船梦 / I set sail on a borrowed boat of dreams — (takes deep breath, cups hands around mouth, yells) a-qiaaaaaooooooo

everything I ever write is always going to be about grief so unfollow me now etc etc; this one was the one where I was most obvious about it. maybe the most difficult fic for me to write, if the two-year gap between starting and finishing this fic was any indication. also a thinly veiled vessel for my love for bian yanmei

with you I'll dissolve ten thousand sorrows — okay I lied this one isn't precisely about grief (except where it is dklfjskd). easily the most lighthearted fic I've ever written. also I somehow wrote and edited this in 37 hours flat and I want to tap into that kind of insane energy again

space, skin, muscle, bone — my most popular fic, which I have somewhat mixed feelings about. in the 11 day span that I feverishly wrote this, I was both 1) unceremoniously booted from a job and 2) got a dream internship that led directly to my current job. secretly/not-so-secretly one of the most personal things I've ever written because at that point in the pandemic, it was both my goodbye letter to NYC and working in dance/theater

when darkness crashes against it — the first longfic I ever finished and one of my only multi-chapter works. it tracked me through some pretty big changes in life over the year I serialized it, and is the most gentle self-indulgence/wish-fulfillment fic I've ever written. marked a return to writing since I went through several lost years prior where I rarely wrote. also the first time I went through the "fic-as-goodbye-to-fandom" process so really, this one means a lot to me personally hhh

my stuff is still locked on ao3 since llm scrapers continue to run wild; feel free to reach out if you're curious!

[yoonia]

Some writing updates (before I log off for a while):

Postponing today's update on The Bedroom Hymns due to personal issues. I'm planning to still post the chapter this week because I'm planning to post another thing next week, but I guess it'll depend on whether or not I can get more done today

Chapter 22 is currently 75% done, with a total word count 11k words. The chapter might end up around 13-14k words and I'm not planning to split this chapter up because the next chapter needs to focus on something else entirely

Spoiler: will they reunite in this chapter? yes, and this one's going to be a bit fun. and sorry, no, there's no sword fighting

Ever A Never After: Act 2 is now at 19k words, and I still have about 2-3 scenes to work on

I'm going to finish this chapter and if it does end up with more than 20k words, I'll be releasing Act 2 in two separate chapters

This is what I'm planning to post next week while TBH is on a short break

The rewriting process of Carousel is currently ongoing

I just finished rewriting chapter 1 last week, but I'm planning to start updating the chapters here once I'm done working on more chapters

I might begin posting the updated chapters on Wattpad next week once chapter 2 is done, so you can catch up with the upgraded version there if you want to read faster

Blood Moon Rising is also undergoing some changes as I'm re-editing and republishing the Wattpad version

The Tumblr version will be updated once I'm done with this process or perhaps when I start posting new chapters

I'm currently considering on prioritising posting on Wattpad first before sharing on Tumblr since I'm working on this story one small chapter at a time so I can finish it faster (let me know if you're okay with this!)

These are the stories that I've been focusing on lately with the addition of some fic commissions that have been on pending. Feel free to ask anything about my WIPs! (ps. just don't ask about other WIPs that I'm not opening my draft for. if it's not mentioned, then I'm not working on them yet!)

[andromedaexists]

Meet The Project: Desecrate

Today's @creators-club post is an introduction to what we're going to be focusing on this week, and to no one's surprise that's Desecrate!

I haven't done an Intro post update for Desecrate in a while (Here's the post I currently have), so why not do a new little meet the project for it?

GENRE

Fiction - Dark Fantasy / Dark Academia

STATUS

Re-drafting! I've got about 14k done in this new draft with the plan to finish this one and start another round of Beta reads by the end of the year! Desecrate is already up on GoodReads if you want to keep tabs on it there!

AESTHETIC / TROPES

Religious trauma, Religion in general, queer characters, questioning faith, dream shenaniganery, reading a lot of ancient texts, complaining about college classes, Queer Platonic Partners & Found family in general

This book heavily criticizes the Roman Catholic Church and deals with Catholic Guilt and Religious Trauma 

SUMMARY

What would you do if everything you knew about your faith was flipped on its head?

That's what Kit has been trying to find out. After dropping out of Seminary and giving up on his life's dream of being a priest, he has to piece together the shattered remains of his faith.

But what if those pieces fit together in ways they never have before? What if they reveal a secret that the church has been hiding for millennia? What will he do then?

Adonai's been held in captivity for longer than They can recall. They don't remember what the sun feels like on Their skin, what the wind feels like in Their hair. It's a shame, one of Their only regrets was not fighting back that day.

Their time will come. The Messiah walks among the living once again, and They know that he will free them. Until that day, They will remain patient.

MAIN CHARACTERS

Christian "Kit" Michaels (he/him) - the main character who’s POV we get. Just your everyday guy. Is a Classics student after dropping out of Seminary, does the church thing, lives his life to the best of his ability. Prone to some weird ass dreams

Adonai (he/they) - the subject of Kit’s dreams. They’re… not having a good time at the moment. Or really just ever.

Father Isaac (he/him) - A Priest of the Diocese that Kit goes to. One of the first people Kit goes to after his dreams start. A great confidant, even if he is bound by his faith.

Sister Benedictine (she/her) - Who doesn’t love a nun?? Some of the best people imo. Benny is one of the first people Kit goes to and is ride or die for her pathetic man (they are queer platonic partners, after all)

TAGLIST

@lockejhaven @mr-writes @eleanordaze @flowerprose

@starlitpage @dogmomwrites @annetilney @ceph-the-ghost-writer

@inkspellangel @outpost51 @love-whatit-loves @bebewrites

@smol-feralgremlin

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

[futurepastme]

I'm stuck in a bit of a creative block so I decided to try and write a synopsis of my latest potential first fic ( I got a bunch of potential fics that never saw the daylight) and this is what I managed to write

After releasing Kilgharrah from underneath the castle, Merlin thought that his life would continue pretty much the same, until one day the dragon came knocking at his door to take him to a long forgotten island, and everything began to change. Uther’s hunt for magic reached a level that was only seen before at the first years of the Purge. Merlin, seeing his people’s suffering, decides to take them away from the wrath of camelot to somewhere they wouldn’t be found. Quickly, the rumours of a magic-friendly kingdom began to spread throughout the lands of Albion; and Merlin, as Emrys, sees himself ascending to the position of ruler and saviour. Now, the peasant boy has to learn how to be king of an oppressed people, protect them from Uther’s war, and somehow keep helping Arthur fulfill their destiny as Emrys and the Once and Future King.  But a kingdom is not built in a day, so it is a good thing that he’ll get some help doing it. Or, the au where Merlin helps his kind and accidentally turns into a king.

I've had the first idea for this fic over a year ago and lately I've been writing some of it for fun. I don't know If I'll ever finish it 'cause I usually don't but I sometimes post bits of what I have so far.

If anyone is interested in more and haven't seen it yet; here's everything I've posted about this Au so far: Prologue; Bit of Ch1; Ch1 again; Bit of Ch2A; Bit of Ch2B

I haven't posted more than this because chapter 1 ended up with 14k words and I just think this is too long for tumblr so I just posted some scenes that I felt like. Ah! I almost forgot, the official name so far is "Emrys and the council of the 7" because that's literally the first thing I thought about this universe, so that's probably staying. AH! And it'll be merthur, eventually...

Just a reminder that english is not my first language and everything I post here is basically a first draft

[writingonleaves]

will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) - the blue au

universe: the blue au (clementine sandoval x hughes brothers x nico hischier)

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, more sadness than i intended originally, mentions of covid during one particular part, so so much fluff!!

title + based on: "long live" by taylor swift, "i'll always remember you" by hannah montana, "ribs" by lorde, "vienna" by billy joel, "home" by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros and "a letter to my younger self" by ambar lucid. title from "long live"

word count: 14k

author's note: graduation / draft moments that technically take place before the first installment. though you should read the first part for context if you haven't yet! romance who? we ride and die with found family. i def made myself cry a few times writing this. happy american thanksgiving to all those who celebrate. hold your family and loved ones close. hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think <3

2018 - dallas, texas 

i wish you love, i wish you luck

for you, the world just opens up

- “i’ll always remember you” by hannah montana

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas. The time is currently 12:26 p.m. and the current temperature outside is a very toasty 91 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Clementine tunes out after that. 91 degrees? She’s gonna die when she gets out of the airport. 

As soon as she exits the plane, she follows the signs to the baggage claim, waiting for her luggage that isn’t only for this next week, but is for the entire summer as well before she returns to UCLA in the fall. After the draft, she’s heading back to Massachusetts to work in a clinic for the summer. 

Fuck, she just had her last final three days ago. She feels like it never stops. Sometimes she wishes it would. 

But she shakes her head to herself, watching as her bag comes closer. None of that now. She’s about to celebrate one of her favorite people making their dream come true. She smiles to herself as she wheels her suitcase and adjusts the straps of her backpack, not quite running but pretty close to it as she walks through the arrivals terminal of Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. 

“Clementine!” She whips her head over to see Ellen’s unmistakable blonde hair and wide smile, waving enthusiastically. Next to her is Maeve, her own mother with a more subdued smile, her carry-on suitcase beside her. They had scheduled their flights so that they’d land around the same time. To Clementine’s absolute delight, she sees Jack and Luke right before Luke comes flying at her. 

“Oof,” she groans as Luke hugs her tightly, burying his head into her shoulder. “God. You need to stop growing.”

“Never,” he mutters into her neck before letting go with a bright smile. “Hi Clemmy!”

She grins back. “Hi Lukey. I’ve missed you.”

“My turn!” She laughs as Jack shoves his brother aside and sways her around. He messed up her hair before pulling away. “I’m so pumped you’re here.”

“Me too, Jackson.” Both moms finally get to where they are and she hugs Ellen before hugging her own mother. “When did you land?”

“About an hour ago.”

Clementine cringes. “Yeah, we were delayed back at LAX. Sorry.”

Ellen waves her apology away as they start heading out of the airport, Jack grabbing her suitcase and Luke grabbing Maeve’s. “No worries. We’re just excited you both are here.”

“El, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Maeve says. And her mom’s right, Clementine thinks. Quinn’s getting drafted into the NHL. She can’t remember a time when this wasn’t his dream. 

“How have you been? How’s college?” Jack asks. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

“We literally all FaceTimed last week,” Luke says while avoiding Jack’s slap. 

“It’s not the same,” Jack whines. Clementine rolls her eyes at his tone, but he kinda has a point. FaceTimes and texts are never the same as their in-person debriefs, which have become fewer and more in-depth since all four of them are in different-ish places now (though Jack and Luke technically still live under the same roof and Quinn isn’t that far). 

Clementine feels a pang in her heart, knowing that the amount of debriefs will only get fewer and fewer as the years go on. 

“College is good,” she automatically squints against the sun the second they get outside. “Same old, same old. Didn’t fail any classes somehow, which is always a win.”

Ellen snorts. “Honey, you’re literally the smartest girl I know. I don’t think failing is in your vocabulary.”

“No, literally.” Luke adds. 

“Aw, not true. Thank you, but not true. And this weekend isn’t about me.” Clementine whips out her arm in front of Jack’s front so that he doesn’t get run over by a car. “I didn’t expect to see you two until dinner.”

Jack shrugs. “We were gonna tag along with Dad, but we already did to some of his stuff yesterday and it was so boring.”

Clementine snorts. “Well, he’s technically kind of working this weekend, no?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be that boring,” Jack says. 

“You two better get used to it then,” she swings an arm around both Jack and Luke’s shoulders. “Especially you, Jacky. This is gonna be you next year.”

Jack groans, but Clementine knows he secretly loves it. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. You’re gonna be here, right?”

“Where?”

“Next year. At the draft.”

“What? Of course I will.” How dare he think differently? “And whenever Luke’s is. You guys are silly for thinking otherwise.”

“But what if you’re too busy saving lives?”

“It doesn't matter where I am. I’ll be there,” Clementine promises, as they all climb into the car. 

“Clem’s right, boys.” Maeve says, turning around from the passenger seat as Ellen starts the engine. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Luke responds by putting his chin on Maeve’s shoulder as she reaches up to tap his cheek fondly. “Have you all gotten the chance to see Quinn much?”

“Here and there,” Ellen says. “Media and last minute meetings with teams have been keeping him busy though.”

Clementine has naturally always known more about the hockey world than the average person purely from her circumstances, but within the last month or so — mostly when she’s been procrastinating on studying for final exams — she’s been poking around online to see people’s pre-draft predictions. Obviously, she knows they’re just speculations, but she wanted to get an idea of what the general world has been thinking of Quinn. She thinks he’s the best at everything, but she’s aware she’s incredibly biased. 

She hasn’t really talked to Quinn, or the other two, about it, knowing that it’s all they’ve been thinking or hearing about and there’s no use adding onto the noise. But Clementine wants to be prepared. From her research, people have Quinn going to places from Arizona to Vancouver to Ottawa. She’s seen Detroit a good amount. One or two said New York or Chicago. 

But at the end of the day, truly, it doesn't matter. For her at least. He’s getting drafted into the National Hockey League and Clementine brought two waterproof mascaras to prepare. 

“God, El.” Maeve puts a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “You must be so proud.”

“It’s definitely a big week,” Ellen says. Jack puts his head on Clementine’s shoulder because she somehow ended up in the middle seat. But she doesn’t shove him off like she usually would. 

Every time she sees these boys — this family — again, she feels more grateful to have them.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Clementine says. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Ellen says. “Now tell us about college, honey. Only one more year to go! Well, of undergrad at least.”

…..

Later that night, they’re about to go inside a nice restaurant for dinner when Clementine squeals, launching herself at Quinn. She feels his laughter as she squeezes tight and she holds on longer than normal. 

“Hey Clem,” he says. 

She pulls back and smiles, before hugging him again. “Hi Q.”

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, as Clementine lets go to let him hug Maeve, who sways him. Clementine thinks she sees her mother’s eyes water. 

Clementine turns to beam at Jim. “Hi Jimmy!”

“Hey sunshine,” he says with a laugh, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. “Glad you and your mom made it.”

“Of course.” They all file into the restaurant and take their seats. She sits inbetween Quinn and Ellen with Jack directly across from her. She narrows her eyes when he kicks her foot and purposefully avoids her eye contact. 

She turns to Quinn with a wide smile. “Look at you. You’re such a star.”

Quinn laughs nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re here. In Dallas. To watch you get drafted. This is a big deal!”

“Are you gonna cry?” Luke teases. 

Clementine snorts. “Of course I am. Stupid question, Lukey. I’m gonna be crying all weekend.” She wraps an arm around Quinn and leans in for a side hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to come to see you play at Michigan this year. I’ll try my best next season.”

“What?” Quinn asks, genuinely confused. “It’s okay. I-I didn’t expect you to. You’re busy at school.”

She shrugs, thanking the waitress for pouring out her glass of water before turning back to Quinn. “I want to, though. Jack and Luke and even Trevor keep texting me that I need to come to one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn says. And Clementine knows he means it too, the sweet boy. “I’m serious. You already stream the games and that’s completely unnecessary.”

“Sorry I want to support my best friend slash brother.”

Quinn pouts, “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

Clementine just smirks as everyone looks over the menu.

Dinner is simply wonderful. The food is yummy but the company is even better, as she finds herself laughing loudly at all of Ellen’s classic stories and Maeve bouncing off of her old friend seamlessly. Clementine just giggles under her breath as she watches Jim sit there in amusement and sometimes exasperation, ordering a second beer before their main courses even come. The boys are the boys, lively as ever and filled with love. The feeling of anticipation and excitement in the air has Clementine just putting her chin on her hand, observing the love around her. 

Her father would’ve loved this. 

As if he knows that she’s about to go too deep in her thoughts, Luke pulls on her ponytail. She shoots him a look as she’s swallowing her bite of gnocchi. “What?”

He beams. “Nothing.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. Luke will always be her baby, but it’s moments like this when she realizes that he’s growing up so fast. As Quinn laughs at something his dad said and she watches Luke’s eyes drift towards him, she bites her lip. Soon enough, it’ll be Luke in his oldest brother’s shoes seeing what team will draft him. 

She blinks as a hand waves in front of her. “Earth to Clee,” Jack says. 

“What’s up?”

Jack gives her a hopeful look. “Can I try some of your pasta?”

“Cut me a piece of your steak and then we’ll talk.”

…..

The next few days, Clementine and her mom explore Dallas. Ellen, Jack and Luke join them when they can, Jim comes on the rare time that he doesn’t have meetings and Quinn is just too busy to join at all. Clementine’s surprised Ellen, Jack and Luke are even tagging along with them. But she welcomes it. 

Until Jack is nudging her way too close to the edge of the sidewalk and she stumbles. Luke just laughs and both Ellen and Maeve don’t see it because they’re walking up ahead. Assholes. 

The day of the draft comes quickly, and her and her mom are staying in the same hotel the Hughes family is. They get ready right after lunch, as Maeve and Clementine take charge of being the communication liaison for the rest of the Hughes family who’s here on this special day to let Ellen and Jim handle what they need to. Ever since the day Ellen introduced Maeve to her family, Maeve’s become one of them. Clementine smiles as she watches Geegs, Ellen’s mom, and her mom hug, opening her own arms happily when it’s her turn. 

“Hi Sweetie.”

“Hi Geegs,” she lets the older woman place her hands on her cheeks. 

“You look more like your father the older you get. Beautiful.”

Clementine swallows as she reaches up to squeeze her pseudo-grandma’s wrists, before turning to greet the various other family members. Most of them she knows, some she doesn’t. Many she hasn’t seen since she went to college. 

She volunteers to wait downstairs for everyone to come while her mom makes a few trips to and from the hotel room where Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack and Luke are. Once she’s 99% sure everyone is at the hotel, she makes the trip up to the room herself. In the elevator mirror, she glances at her outfit. A blush pink wrap dress with white heeled sandals. She’s decided to keep her hair down, a hair elastic around her wrist that will no doubt be used the second she steps outside into the Dallas heat. Earrings that Ellen gave her for her 18th birthday are dangling from her ears.

And of course, the three friendship bracelets tied around her left wrist. They don’t match any part of her outfit, but it doesn’t matter. She rubs over them with her right thumb as the elevator door opens. 

When she knocks on the door, it’s swung open immediately by one of their many cousins. Emily, who can’t be more than five years old, immediately wraps her arms around Clementine’s legs.

Clementine laughs, maneuvering carefully so that she can shut the door behind her before bending down to fully hug the girl. “Hi Em.”

“Hi Clee!”

“How are you?” Clementine stands back up. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Emily reaches out to tug at Clementine’s hand and she obliges. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

“Really?” Clementine asks skeptically as she follows the young girl down the short hallway.

“Well, maybe just me.” They come to a stop and there’s a big call of her name echoed throughout the room. Clementine smiles bashfully. The Hughes extended family has always been nice to her, but this isn’t her day. She eyes the camera out of the corner of her eye and blinks.

Sometimes she forgets that the three boys she calls her brothers have outside attention on them. Which is dumb, because duh. But she forgets they’re not just… Quinny, Jacky and Lukey. 

Though today, out of all days, nothing will let her forget. She thinks she’s okay with that. 

The sound of Luke calling out her name puts her a bit more at ease. “I was starting to think you got lost.” She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as she gets pulled into hugs. 

She eventually stops in front of her mother, who just raises an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “You have the cufflinks?”

She nods, blindly reaching into her purse and feeling around for her small gift for Quinn. “Yeah. I’ll give it to him when he starts getting dressed.”

Jim, who overhears the exchange between mother and daughter, eyes them suspiciously. “Cufflinks? Mae, you already got him-”

“Not from me,” Maeve sings with a mischievous smile. “Technically, this one is all Clem.” Jim rolls his eyes as Clementine smiles innocently, before she gets pulled into a conversation with Lara, one of the aunts. 

She notices immediately when Quinn is ducking into the attached bedroom to change and quickly scurries in his direction. She stops in the doorway, watching as Quinn starts unzipping the garment bag that’s holding the suit that Maeve gifted him for this very day. “You have a second?” Clementine says. 

Quinn turns around quickly with a small smile. “Of course.” Clementine walks in and reaches into the outside pocket, taking out the small black pouch. Immediately, Quinn is shaking his head. “Clem, no.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“I don’t have to. Clem, the fact that you’re here and I’m wearing a suit your mom made me. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Clementine pouts, “It’s never enough. Open it.” With a skeptical look, he carefully takes the pouch for her hands and opens it. He gently lays the cufflinks out on the palm of his hand. They’re silver, a Q and an H written out in cursive on each. “It’s nothing too crazy, but-”

“It’s perfect,” Quinn breathes out. He closes his fest and looks up, pulling Clementine into a very tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

She can feel herself starting to tear up. Dammit. “I’m so…god, I don’t know.”

He pulls away and laughs. “You’re already crying?”

“I’m trying not to,” she whines, watching as he puts the cufflinks back into the pouch and places them on a nearby table. She clears her throat. “I’ll let you get ready.”

She smiles at him one last time before turning around to walk out of the room. “Clem?” He says. 

She whips her head back around. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

She swallows and puts a hand up. “Don’t,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. He laughs and she laughs with him. “I love you too, Quinny. So much.”

He nods and she leaves the room and enters the other bedroom. Immediately, she’s met with Jack. He takes one look at her watery eyes and cackles. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jack’s eyes widen as he clasps his watch around his wrist. “Little ears!”

“You’re a big boy. You can handle it.” She sits down on the edge of the bed across from him, eyeing his formal attire. Only his blazer is missing. She softens. “You look great.”

Jack beams. “Thanks, Clee! You do too.”

“You think?” She says playfully, smoothing down her dress. 

“Yes,” he says genuinely, causing her to look at him. “You look beautiful.”

She just smiles, making grabby hands at him. Jack obliges, collapsing into her for a tight hug that has a tear falling down Clementine’s face. A few other ones slip out as Luke walks in and immediately wraps himself around the two. 

The ride to the arena is quick, Maeve in charge of driving her daughter, Aunt Lara, Uncle Rich and Emily. Once they’re parked, Maeve sees a text from Ellen saying that that the Hughes family who were riding on the bus also just got there and asks if she and Clementine can meet them for a second before they all go their separate ways — the Hughes family to their spots and the others to the designed family and friends area on the other side of the arena. Maeve furrows her eyebrows, muttering about what her old friend could possibly want, but obliges.

Clementine hears the crowd before she sees them, knowing that Quinn is somewhere in the thrall. Before Clementine and Maeve can be confused about where they go, they see Ellen waving them over. 

“What’s up? Did you forget something?” Maeve asks. 

Ellen shakes her head with a smile. Suspicious. “No. Come on. They just opened the doors.”

“What?” Maeve and Clementine ask in unison as they follow Ellen. 

“Surprise! You two are sitting with us.”

“El-”

“Nope,” Ellen glares at Maeve. “No arguments. Quinn wanted you both with him when his name gets called, and it’s his day, so what he says goes.”

Clementine snorts. Dirty move pulling that. But she knows Ellen knows exactly what she’s doing. 

“Are you sure?” Clementine asks softly. 

Ellen pulls her into a side hug as they walk into the building together. “Of course, honey. You’re family. You know that.”

The only three people who are actually in their seats when the three of them go up to their row are Jack, Luke and Geegs, who all just smile and direct them both to their designated seats — Clementine inbetween Jack and Geegs while Maeve is inbetween Ellen and Jim. Maeve sits on the other side of Geegs, the seat momentarily open and Ellen immediately leaves because she’s getting signaled to do media.

Thank god that she doesn’t have to do that, Clementine thinks. She thinks she’d rather die. 

Clementina takes her seat and narrows her eyes playfully at Jack and Luke. “You little secret keepers.”

Luke laughs as Jack smirks. “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, looking around and taking in her surroundings for the first time. “This is bananas.”

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Luke says. And yeah, it is cool. And wonderful. But also scary? And Clementine’s not the one being drafted. 

Clementine sees Quinn and the Tkachuk brothers coming up to where they are. She’s only met Brady and Matthew a handful of times, but everytime has been as lovely as the last. Brady is immediately occupied by Jack and Luke so Clementine turns to Matthew, standing up and giving him a quick hug. 

“Hey Clementine. Long time no see,” Matthew says into her ear. 

Clementine chuckles. “Hi Matty. It’s good to see you.”

“You look beautiful. Most stunning woman in the room.”

She rolls her eyes. Fucking charmer. “The flirting didn’t work when we were 17. It’s not gonna work when we’re 20.”

Matthew pouts playfully. “At least I tried.” He smiles genuinely. “You excited? It’s a big day.”

“Yeah. It’s quite something.” They both look at Quinn and Brady and she nudges Matthew. “Big day for you guys too. I bet your parents are excited.”

“Yeah, they are. I’m sure you’ll see them later. Last I heard you were in college?”

“I am. Just finished my junior year at UCLA. One more to go.”

Matthew whistles. “Damn. You still wanna be a doctor?”

“That’s the plan.”

He shakes his head with a smirk. “Smartest Hughes by far.” She just shoves his shoulder playfully.

“Clem!” Brady interrupts them by corralling her into a hug, causing Matthew to almost fall. 

Clementine giggles. “Hey Brady. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Brady beams. Clementine finds him absolutely endearing. 

“Whatever team calls your name is lucky to have you.” Brady just keeps smiling and it’s so damn infectious.

Ellen and Jim return and Brady and Matthew take that as a signal that they should head back to their seats. Clementine smiles as the boys all exchange hugs — Quinn and Brady’s lasting longer than all the others — and settles back into her seat. Geegs offers her a bottle of water and Clementine thanks her with a grin. 

“I’m nervous,” she mutters to Geegs, so the boys can’t hear and make fun of her. 

“Me too, sweetie.” She says, patting her leg in such a grandmotherly way that makes Clementine miss her own. She catches Clementine looking down the row at Jack, Luke and Quinn, in that order and takes her hand to squeeze it. “They’re always gonna need you, you know?”

She whips her head back, Geegs with a light smile on her face. “What do you mean?” Clementine asks. 

“It doesn’t matter what team all three of them will eventually get drafted to, they’re always gonna need their big sister.” 

Immediately, Clementine shakes her head, trying not to fucking cry at an event that has nothing to do with her. “They’ve been doing just fine on their own.”

“Sweetie.” Geegs just says, looking at her with that look. 

And Clementine realizes the last time she saw that look, three years ago, a day before she was on a flight to LA, her father dying nine months prior but it feeling like yesterday. She had broken down in her childhood bedroom in Toronto, where everyone was downstairs about to have a farewell dinner to send her off. Geegs had seen her first before getting Maeve and Ellen, and then the three women were just holding Clementine and letting her cry. She had gone on a ramble about leaving home and going to LA and how she misses her dad and how her brothers are going to be so far away and are gonna forget about her. It was a lot for her at that time and the three most important women in her life helped her through it. 

She just leans her head on Geegs’s shoulder, before placing a kiss on her cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.” 

Geegs is about to say more before Jack starts incessantly tapping on Clementine’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes but catches Geegs’s knowing look before turning. “What?” Jack pouts at the snap in her tone and Clementine sighs. “Oh don’t give me that.”

“Why not? It works everytime.”

“What’s up?”

He just nudges her shoulder. “Just, I don’t know, wanna make sure you’re good.”

Clementine smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder as he rests his arm around the back of her seat. “I’m perfect.”

“You sure?”

She bites her lip. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know, not trying to bring down the mood but, I wish Dad was here, you know? He would’ve loved all this.”

Jack swallows and she feels him lean his head atop of hers. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I was thinking that this morning, when we were all at the hotel and everything. I wish he was here too.”

She sneaks a look at Quinn, who’s chatting with his mom. “He would’ve been so proud.”

Jack hums. “Love you, Clee.”

It’s the second time she’s heard that from someone in the Hughes family in two minutes, but it still makes her emotional all the same. “Love you too, Jacky.” She breathes out and tries to gather herself. “God, can we get this show on the road? I’m getting antsy.”

Jack snorts. “Already? It’s gonna be a long night for you then.”

She narrows her eyes. “Careful. If you want me to sneak you a sip of alcohol later, you have to be nice to me.”

Jack huffs. “I can’t wait until the day I’m legal. The drinking age being 19 here is ruining my vibe.”

“Got a couple more years until that, buddy.” And then the arena lights start dimming and a tribute for the Humboldt Broncos tragedy starts. 

It begins. 

When Quinn’s name gets called seventh overall to the Vancouver Canucks, Clementine jumps out of her seat and immediately starts crying as she watches him hug his brothers, before hugging her tightly.

“I’m so proud of you, Q.” She mutters into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Clem.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” And she lets go to let him hug his grandmother. 

Clementine catches Ellen’s gaze right after Quinn hugs his mother and they share a watery smile, as she watches Maeve squeeze Quinn and kiss him on the cheek. As she watches him go down the stairs and give Brady a hug — she cheered extra loud when Ottawa called his name out earlier — she takes a deep shaky breath but laughs when Luke urges her to take Quinn’s seat. She sits down and squeezes Ellen’s hand, before Ellen kisses her on the cheek. 

Clementine is so overwhelmed and proud and excited for what’s to come, while also being very emotional about how much hard work it took for Quinn to get here. She’s had a front seat on seeing him grow up and it’s been the most incredible ride. 

Later, when they finally all meet up with Quinn again at one of the suites in the arena, she’s about half a vodka cranberry in and just watches all his admirers greet him, the Canucks jersey and hat adorning him nicely. When he finally comes up to her, she beams. 

Quinn laughs as he hugs her, “Already starting to drink?”

“It’s a big day,” she says, pulling away to look him up and down. “Holy shit, dude.”

“Careful. I’m mic’ed up.”

She rolls her eyes. “They can bleep that out. I’m so happy for you. How you feeling?”

“Good, good.” That’s all the words they exchange before other family members rightfully step in to offer their congratulations.

She knows it won’t fully sink in until later, probably when he makes his NHL debut. But what a special day that will live in Clementine’s memory forever.

(It’s not until they’re transferring the celebration to a nearby restaurant / bar does Clementine remember. She literally stops in her tracks, and Quinn, who’s walking beside her and was talking about all the media stuff he had to do, looks at her, confused. 

“Everything good?” He asks. 

Clementine digs into her purse to pull out an envelope. “Yeah. I just almost forgot.”

He takes the envelope, still confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s from Dad.” Quinn blinks at the familiar scribble of his name. “I’ve been keeping it safe this whole time.”

“Fuck, Clem. I-what’s in it?”

She shrugs. “Whatever he wanted to say to you during this moment. I got one when I graduated high school. I’m almost certain your parents probably got theirs today or will eventually from my mom.” She smiles sadly as Quinn sniffs, still staring at the envelope. “Read it later,” she urges softly. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Quinn nods, putting it inside his suit jacket as they continue walking. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He pauses for a few seconds before hugging Clementine the tightest he’s hugged her today. “Thank you.”

“I’m just the messenger,” Clementine says, but she hugs him back. “I know he’s so proud of you, wherever he is.”

Quinn just nods into her shoulder and Clementine feels like they’re kids again)

2019 - los angeles, california

you’re the only friend i need

sharing beds like little kids

and laughing till our ribs get tired

but that will never be enough

- “ribs” by lorde

Clementine’s trying to stifle a yawn as the speeches start. At least they got over the majority of the speeches yesterday during all-university commencement. 

She knows her mom, Ellen and Jim are in the crowd somewhere, from the selfie she got from them as she was waiting to walk to her seat. Thankfully it’s not that hot out, especially for LA, otherwise she’d be more restless than she already is in her lace white dress. Having a ceremony outside is kinda nice, actually, especially with the wind brushing around her legs. 

She walks on the stage, shakes the dean’s hand, gets her diploma and doesn’t faceplant at all, so she takes that as a win. She cheers for her friends when they walk across, and she’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that four years have gone by so slowly yet so quickly. It’s been filled with great and tough moments, but she’s grateful despite it all. 

They throw their hats up and she embraces her friends, thinking about how they’re all gonna be spread out around the country in just a few months. Clementine’s staying in California, at least, heading to Stanford for medical school in the fall, but it’ll be so different. 

But that’s the beauty of it all, right?

After exchanging a few texts with her mom to establish a meeting place, she briskly walks over to the area, eager to see her family. But she stops in her tracks when she sees Quinn, Jack and Luke. 

They’re not supposed to be here. She blinks, wondering if she’s imagining it. But she hears Luke scream her name and it’s real. All in various colors of a button up and slacks and they’re fucking here. 

“Oh my god,” she says to herself before running over — as fast as she can in these heels — and absolutely crashing into Luke. Her cap falls off but she can’t even care. Jack’s next and hearing his laugh so close to her ear makes her fully start sobbing. By the time Quinn is swaying her side to side and handing her a huge bouquet of flowers “from all three of us,” she’s afraid her eyeliner is ruined. 

She quickly hugs her mom, Ellen and Jim, accepting two more smaller bouquets and turns back to the boys. “You guys are not-how are you here?”

“This was the plan all along,” Quinn laughs. “Come on, Clem. We weren’t gonna miss this.”

“B-but you’re supposed to be, I don’t know, somewhere! Jack, you’re supposed to be doing whatever the hell people do a week before their draft. And Luke, I swear you told me you had a tournament.”

Everyone’s laughing at her disbelief. “Just a few white lies here and there,” Jack says with a proud smile. “Quinn’s right. We wouldn’t miss this.”

“Congratulations, Clemmy!” Luke beams and Clementine wants to squeeze his fucking cheeks. “You didn’t trip walking across the stage.”

“And isn’t that a relief,” Jim jokes. 

Clementines points at the parents in mock accusation after adjusting her hold on all the flowers and her diploma. “You guys knew about this all along, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did,” Maeve rolls her eyes with a grin. “They’ve been planning this for months. Jack literally said he wouldn’t go to Worlds if it was at the same time as your graduation.”

She whacks him lightly across the back of his head with her diploma. “Stupid.”

“Hey!” Jack whines, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Okay, pictures! Before Clem completely cries her makeup off.” Ellen exclaims as they all laugh. Pictures take way too long but Clementine can’t even complain, even when Jack blows raspberries on her and she wants to strangle him. 

As they all walk around campus, Clementine giving an unofficial tour, she points out her old residences, where she used to study, where she’s cried, where she’s laughed. This campus means so much to her and houses so many memories that they’re not a part of. She also gets updates since the last time she saw them over her brief winter break. Luke officially committed to the NTDP, Quinn made his debut with the Canucks that she’s still upset she couldn’t make it for, both Quinn and Jack went to the World Championships, not to mention that Jack’s draft is literally in a week.  

They’re so interested in hearing about her last semester of college and congratulate her officially on Stanford even though Clementine thinks that’s nothing compared to what they’re accomplishing. She voices that, and Quinn immediately gives her a disapproving look that is kinda funny coming from someone younger than her and Luke rolls his eyes with the bold sass of a 15 year old.

Maybe that’s a good thing, Clementine thinks as Jack starts saying how he always talks to his friends about how his “smart, cool older sister” is gonna be a doctor and go to one of the top schools in the country. They all have their talents and they see each other’s accomplishments as the coolest thing in the world. 

She knows not everyone has that kind of support system. She is so blessed that she does, especially today. 

She’s surprised even more when she’s told her mom booked a reservation for one of her favorite farm to table places nearby for dinner, and she indulges herself with two glasses of wine, turning a blind eye when Quinn sneaks a sip. She glares when Luke tries though. Quinn’s at least closer to legal age. 

As she gets healthily tipsy, giggling at every single thing being said and Quinn subtly filling up her glass of water, a tear slips out again. Luckily, no one notices because she wipes it away very quickly.

Everything’s moving so fast. She wishes it would slow down. 

2019 - vancouver, british columbia 

slow down, you’re doing fine

you can’t be everything you wanna be before your time

although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight

- “vienna” by billy joel

Clementine likes to think she’s more prepared this time around. But deep down, she asks herself if she really is. 

The vibe leading up to this draft compared to last year has been a bit different. While there was a good amount of focus on Quinn last year, it’s ramped so much higher this time around for Jack. She’s heard all about the hype. The draft of the Americans. The draft where Jack’s projected to go first.

And she really applauds Jack for handling it as well as he has. Clementine turns 22 in two weeks and she doesn’t think she could be as collected as Jack is at 18. But then again, all three brothers have been preparing for something like this their whole lives. 

Her and her mother are sitting with the family again with the draftees and this time it’s not a surprise. Maeve once again bought Jack’s suit and Clementine gifted him a watch this morning, and also gave him the letter from Miguel because she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t almost forget like she did for Quinn’s. Jack had just given her the longest hug. 

Jack’s been smiles all morning, confidence radiating off his skin. Clementine knows that most of that is genuine  — Jack has always worn his fearlessness the most outwardly compared to his brothers. So when he says he isn’t nervous, she believes him.

At least this time she has a clearer idea of where Jack will be. It’s either going to be New Jersey or New York. She, and everyone in the hockey world, would be shocked if he ended up in Chicago. 

New Jersey would be extra special. Her dad grew up there. So she hopes all the prediction articles she’s read are correct.

So now here they are. A different country and arena this time around. She’s sitting next to Luke and Geegs and there’s a lot more media that’s paying attention to them. Like right now, where it’s only her and Geegs at their seats because the entire Hughes family is doing media. Being on the bus with them this time around instead of driving to the arena herself, Clementine got more of a look into the behind the scenes stuff before the draft starts. She watched with pride as Jack walked down the carpet, signing autographs and probably charming every single person out there. 

As she walked into Rogers Arena, she got more nervous, smoothing down her olive green dress with her sweaty palms. She’s wearing the same white sandals she wore last year because of some sentimental thought she had in her head while figuring out her outfit. Friendship bracelets are on, hair is fully up this time in a high curled ponytail and her head’s all over the place.

But she also is distracted as Jack has wanted to introduce her to everyone. She’s met a lot of the kids in the program at least once, but it’s been awhile and it feels like she’s meeting them again. Everyone except for Alex, who has crashed some of Jack’s FaceTimes with her since he’s lived with the Hughes’ the last two years. Because of that, she’s inadvertently adopted him as another younger brother of sorts. Cole has the widest smile on his face and Clementine just wants to put him in her pocket. Trevor’s laugh is so contagious that Clementine understands why Jack always says him and Trevor are almost the same person. 

As she watches all of them together, she feels sad that she’s had to miss out on stuff like this, watching her younger brothers find their friends and their way and her only appearing in the stories the boys tell but not actually being in the stories. But what can she do? She chose to go to California for school. She’s choosing to stay in California for school. All with their full support and encouragement. 

That doesn’t mean she can’t be sad that she’s missing things back home. Wherever that is.

She snaps herself out of it though, those pangs of sadness she’s felt throughout the morning. It’s not fair on her emotions that she literally just packed her own stuff up from UCLA a week ago and now is here for one of Jack’s biggest moments. He’s so excited. She doesn’t want to cloud that. 

Jack’s ability to be so happy and excited is one of the best things about him.

Once everyone’s back to their seats, she’s bouncing her leg. Without looking, Quinn just puts a hand on her thigh to calm her down and she wonders for the 100th time in the last week when the fuck he got so observant and mature. 

(He always has been. Clementine’s just in a state of constant denial lately.) 

Jack gets picked first overall to the New Jersey Devils and Clementine, to no one’s surprise, starts crying. 

“Let’s go, baby!” He practically screams into her ear as he hugs her.

She laughs through her tears. “Congrats, Jacky. Love you.”

“Love you more, Clee.”

Jack walks down and makes his way onto the stage and Clementine is having the most intense case of deja vu in her life. Maeve hands her a tissue and she knows that some camera is capturing her wiping her eyes carefully. Hopefully the camera captures her whacking Quinn as he makes fun of her as well. She puts her hands over her heart watching Jack shake Gary Bettman’s hand. She can feel her dad’s love and happiness as if he’s here. 

And maybe he is, even if not physically. He’s here somewhere.  

(Hearing “Coming Home” by Diddy - Dirty Money and Skylar Grey playing as Jack walked down had Clementine wanting to slam her head through a wall. She knows Jack probably didn’t put too much thought into the song, but as she hears Skylar’s voice crooning on about letting the rain wash the pain away and coming home and forgiving mistakes, what else is she supposed to feel?)

She watches one by one as Jack’s friends get drafted with a big smile while enjoying the quiet commentary that Jim is offering. She’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Jack will probably be playing in the NHL this year and she still clearly remembers him hiding her shoes when they were younger. 

Clementine laughs as Jack launches himself at her when she sees him later, laughs even more when he and his buddies are being stupid and so boy-like that it makes her heart ache. At some point, someone has control of the aux and “The Spins” by Mac Miller starts playing and Clementine feels fond. Quinn appears beside her and she leans into him. 

“Is this how you feel all the time when you see us?” He asks. 

She breathes out. “Yup.” 

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither, Q.” 

He chuckles. “The curse of being an older sibling.”

“You have no fucking idea.” 

“The first thought I had when his name was called was that Miguel would’ve screamed.” 

She snorts. “Probably true. I gave Jack his letter this morning.”

“I know. I accidentally walked in just as he was finishing reading it.” He pauses suddenly. “Will you come watch when I come to play the Sharks?” 

She looks over at the vulnerable look in his eyes. “Of course.” She realizes then where Quinn’s fears are going. Michigan is only an hour and a half away from Jersey by plane, while Vancouver is four hours away by plane. She’s gonna be the closest to him out of the seven of them. “Of course I will, Quinn. Always.”

“Thanks,” Quinn replies, voice a bit rough. She just presses a kiss to his cheek.

…..

The next morning, Clementine’s woken up by a knock on the door. She groans, but the knocks keep happening so she kicks herself off the bed, throws on a UCLA sweatshirt over herself and opens the door. Jack’s standing at the doorway, hair all over the place and t-shirt and shorts wrinkly. 

“What the fuck, Jack?” She asks bluntly. 

“Sorry.” At least he looks apologetic. “Shit, sorry. I’m just a bit restless.”

“Get in. Quietly. We can talk on the balcony.” Jack gives her a thankful smile as he follows her into the room. They tiptoe past so that Maeve doesn’t wake up, Clementine grabbing her phone along the way. 

She groans as he closes the balcony door and she sinks down into one of the seats. “Jack, it’s 8 in the goddamn morning. Did you not see Ellen and I knocking back shots yesterday?”

Jack snorts. “Who didn’t? I’m pretty sure at least 10 people were filming.”

“What can I say? Your family and friends think I’m entertaining.” She yawns. “What’s up, superstar? What’s got your mind racing at this ungodly hour?”

He shrugs and Clementine wants to roll her eyes. But her semi-awake brain reminds her that this is how all three of them, but especially Jack, has always been. When there’s something bothering him, she always gives him time and lets him come to her. 

A few minutes of silence, before:

“I’m not in over my head, right?”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Clementine blinks. Frankly, she’s too tired and hungover to be a big sister right now. But she’ll try her best. “Jack Rowden Hughes. Don’t tell me you were just drafted number one in the National Hockey League, which is something that had been predicted for at least two years now, and are telling me you’re in over your head.”

He flinches. “Don’t full name me. It’s too early for that.”

She kicks him in the ribs. “You’re a good player, Jack. Which is honestly probably an understatement. I’ve seen you play since you were literally a child. It’s almost freaky how good you are.”

“But you have to say that.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” Clementine says. “I don’t have the time and energy to be bullshitting people anymore, especially you.”

Jack looks down at his hands. “I guess the expectations have always been there, especially recently. But it’s so much more now and that’s kinda scary, Clee.”

“Everything new is always gonna be scary,” Clementine says softly, the breeze waving with her words. “Always. I don’t care how ready for it you’ve been. I’ve been wanting to be a doctor since I was 16. You think I’m not scared to go to Stanford in the fall?��

He furrows his eyebrows. “B-but you’re so smart. You’re gonna be fine.”

“And you’re so talented. So you’re gonna be fine.” She says pointedly. “Realistically, no one can predict the future. Of course I hope that you and Quinn have a great rookie year and a long, successful career ahead of you. Same with Lukey when it’s his turn. But inevitably, there’s gonna be hard moments. That’s just life. You and I both know that. Hell, we’ve been through that together. Will people talk shit about your hard moments more than mine? Yeah, unfortunately, which I hate and wish I could change. But those people, you need to remember, don’t know you. The people who do know you and who love you whether you have skates on your feet or not? Those are the people you should be listening to. And we all love you and are so, so proud of you, Jacky.”

He scooches his chair over and leans his head on her shoulder. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I think I’ve known you all long enough just to know what to say so that you’ll listen to me.” She plays with his hair, staring out into the harbor the hotel borders. “You got all the time in the world to be who you want to be, Jack. And maybe sometimes that requires being in your head a bit. But you’ll come out okay in the end. You always have.”

She swears she feels a few of his tears drip onto her shirt. “I love you, Clee. I know I say it a lot but I mean it everytime.”

“I know you do.”

“I cried when you got your diploma last week.”

“I know. Luke told me.”

“Traitor,” he says with no heat. He throws his legs over her lap and tucks himself into her. “I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she parrots back.

He looks up at her from where he’s tucked his head under her chin and Clementine smiles sadly. He looks so young when he does that. He pouts. “You look sad.”

“I’m not sad.” 

He gives her a look. “Clementine Ana Sandoval.”

“Hey. You can’t do that,” she protests weakly. He waits. “I’m not sad, really. It’s just been an emotional week. In a happy way.”

“You can still be emotional in a happy way and be sad.”

She smiles. “I guess you’re right.” She kisses the top of his head. “I am so proud of you, Jack. Truly. I love you so much.”

“I love you the most, Clee. I’m serious.”

She looks at him with a smile, because she knows there’s just no way. He smiles back brightly in the morning light. 

His lips quiver and she frowns. “We’re gonna be so far apart now.” He whispers.

“We haven’t lived close to each other in awhile.”

“But it’s gonna be even farther.”

“Like I told Quinn, whenever you come play at San Jose, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“And what if I need you other times?”

“When have you called me and I haven’t picked up? Or haven’t called back within the hour?” Silence from him, because he knows she has a point. “Doesn’t matter how far apart we are. I’ll always be there for you.”

He nods, once to indicate that he heard, twice to inject those words into his veins. He kisses her cheek and she bites her lip. She’ll always love him. 

(They end up dozing off. Maeve wakes up and is very confused when she looks to see her daughter’s empty bed. Her gaze shifts to the balcony beyond the glass door and she smiles, watching Clementine and Jack’s chests fall and rise in sync. 

Maeve snaps a picture and sends it to Ellen, before getting out of bed to shower. She’ll give them some more time to rest.)

2021 - canton, michigan

laugh until we think we’ll die

barefoot on a summer night

never could be sweeter than with you

- “home” by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros

The second her mom pulls into the Hughes’s driveway after 13 hours of being in the car, Clementine immediately runs to Ellen, who’s standing by the doorway waiting to greet them.

She breathes in Ellen’s familiar citrus perfume and melts into her arms. A year and a half into the pandemic has felt like 30 years, and Clementine just feels lucky that she can be here. She steps aside to let Maeve and Ellen embrace, getting the luggage from the car. 

“Where are Jimmy and the boys?” Maeve asks as they all gather in the kitchen and Ellen starts reheating some lasagna.

“Playing golf. They’ll be back soon.”

All three of them are collectively a bottle of white wine in deep when they hear a call pull into the driveway. Clementine can hear the moment the boys see the Massachusetts license plate because she hears Luke scream “Maeve and Clemmy are here!” and three car doors slamming before they barrel into the house. 

Clementine just waves her fingers and giggles. Quinn reaches her first, hugging her and lifting her off the stool as she laughs into his neck. Luke’s next — has he grown even more? — and she places three consecutive kisses on his cheek. Jack’s smile is as bright as ever and she threads one hand in his hair as he spins her around. 

Then finally, Jim, who’s been patiently waiting his turn. When she hugs him, she turns her cheek so that it’s against his chest. He places a fatherly kiss in her hair and she feels like a little girl again. 

In her wine drunk stage, she happily listens to the boys babble on about whatever, Maeve chiming in from time to time with stories about what it’s like trying to teach ten year olds over Zoom. At one point, Jack spits out a mouthful of beer and Quinn’s grimacing while Clementine grabs a paper towel without missing a beat in her retelling of how she should’ve gotten an A on a final paper she submitted last semester. 

(Jack had rolled his eyes, muttering “fucking overachiever” under his breath which Clementine glared at him for. Mr. Number One Pick shouldn’t be talking) 

It sucks that Luke won’t be able to get the same draft experience his brothers did, but in a way, it’s a wonderful compromise. He gets to be at home surrounded by his family and friends. Sure, media is still somehow finding their way in because it’s the draft and because he’s a Hughes but it won’t be nearly as much as it has been before. 

Clementine finds a bit of comfort in knowing that Luke won’t immediately jump into the NHL like Jack did. Not that she doesn’t want him to. She wants them to get everything they want in life. But Luke is her baby. He’s perpetually eight years old in her mind. 

And this isn’t the time to dwell on this, but Jack’s rookie year was so tough on him. She’ll never forget getting a call at 2 am his time, absolutely hyperventilating over the phone. After that, she demanded he call her once every week for at least two months after. Luckily, Quinn had a great rookie year and Jack’s second year was better, but goodness, she needs a bit more time to prepare before she starts getting middle of the night calls from three Hughes brothers involving a world she’s still learning about day by day. 

The next week is relaxing and lovely, Clementine having nothing to do for the first time in awhile having taken two weeks off from her summer job at Boston Children’s for this. She lets herself sleep in, takes naps in the backyard and on the boat, moves around slowly in the kitchen to help prepare dinner and cherishes the sounds of Quinn, Jack and Luke’s laughter echoing through the house. 

…..

The night before the draft, Clementine feels a bit restless. She tosses aside her blanket and tiptoes downstairs in a Michigan sweatshirt that she’s stolen at some point this week. Wiping her eyes, she quietly opens cabinets and pokes through the pantry, concluding that the Hughes household has all the ingredients she needs to make brown sugar cookies. Luckily, sound doesn’t travel much in this house, she’s learned. Clementine starts to get to work. 

By the time she’s waiting for the oven to finish preheating so she can put cookies into the oven, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize but snaps it shut when she sees Quinn, all cozied up in a black t-shirt and gray sweats, hair absolutely all over the place. 

He blinks. “Why are you awake?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Quinn scans over the three trays of cookies waiting to go in. “Didn’t both our moms bake a gigantic cake today?”

“Yup.”

He hums. The oven beeps and before she can react, he slides the trays in. As he shuts the oven door, Clementine pours him a glass of water as she sets a timer on her phone.

“Why are you awake at this hour, Quinny?”

Quinn shrugs. “I was up to use the bathroom. Thought I heard something downstairs and wanted to check it out.”

She yawns. “Yeah, sorry.”

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“Newer habit. One of my roommates, Allie, you’ve met Allie over FaceTime, she’s a stress baker. Whenever exam season hit, there were baked goods all over our apartment. Picked up on a thing or two.”

Quinn hums. “What’s Allie up to this summer?”

“She just started her residency in Florida.”

“So she graduated?”

“Yup. Now I’m all alone.” Quinn rolls his eyes because he knows that’s not true. It isn’t. Clementine still has two other roommates as they continue looking for a third. 

“I still can’t believe you had time to do med school applications as well as a full course load,” Quinn says. “Like, I know you said that’s kinda normal. But how did you have the time?”

Clementine snickers. “I’m not sure how I did. Pure rage and fumes? ”

“I mean, you’re superwoman. You always have been. But damn. There are really no breaks for you, eh?”

“Coming here is a break.”

“Good,” she ruffles his hair. Quinn sighs. “Can’t believe it’s finally little Lukey’s turn.”

“Yeah. I’ve been having a crisis about it all summer. Makes me feel old.”

“You’re only 24?”

“Exactly,” she deadpans. “Old.”

Quinn rolls his eyes. They both look up as someone else comes down the stairs. Alex, who came in just a few hours ago, rubs his eyes with his fists. “What the fuck are you two doing up awake?”

“Clem’s making cookies.”

Alex blinks. “And you are?”

“Keeping her company.”

Alex just shrugs before sitting down across from her. He nods in thanks when Clementine fills up a glass of water for him. “Haven’t really gotten the chance to catch up with you. How’s Stanford?”

Clementine snickers. “Good. Well, as good as it can be in a pandemic. School’s school. First two years were mostly by the textbooks. Next two will be textbooks and clinicals so I’ll be in the hospital. Hopefully.”

“Clinicals?”

“Like, actually working with patients. Or like, observing in the hospital with a supervisor. The good stuff.”

“Sounds smart,” Alex hums. “How do you feel that all your babies will have been drafted 24 hours from now?” 

Fucking asshole. She doesn’t know why Ellen has a soft spot towards Alex when he’s clearly a nuisance. He just laughs at her pout and Quinn shakes his head with a close-lipped smile. “Don’t get her started. It’s 1 a.m.”

Her eyes roll so hard they might as well fall out of her head. “Don’t you have siblings?” He nods. “Are they younger or older?”

“Older. I’m the youngest.”

She huffs and Quinn grins. “That makes sense,” she says. “You don’t get it.”

Alex gets up and pulls Clementine into a quick side hug as he gets more water. “I only got to hear about how you were crying when Quinn and Jack got called. Now I’ll get to see for myself.”

“Careful,” she says wearily. Careful of what, she doesn’t know, but she needs to instill some sort of dominance as the oldest here. Quinn snickers into his sweatshirt. 

Her timer beeps a few minutes later and she shuts it off. Quinn ushers her aside while he grabs the trays and sets them on the counter to cool while Clementine digs around for a large tupperware container to store them. Alex just stares at them hungrily and she can’t even be annoyed. She sees that look in all the Hughes brothers’ eyes all the time in the kitchen. And Alex might as well be a Hughes. 

Once they each finish a cookie, Clementine shoos them both upstairs as she follows behind them to try and go back to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.

…..

The next morning comes quickly. She’s sharing a room and bed with her mother but she’s nowhere to be found. Instead, Clementine gets woken up by Jack jumping on her bed. Thankfully, he avoids anything that could really hurt her, but she still grunts, whacking him in the stomach and shooing him out of the room before beginning to get ready. She can already hear various family and friends coming through the front door downstairs.

She gets dressed in a cream romper she found on sale a month ago and pulls out, of course, the white sandals. She rummages through her backpack to find the letter — the final one she’s in charge of — and quickly debates on when she’ll give it to Luke. 

Now, she decides, putting it on the bedside table. Before the cameras turn on. She slips her phone into the pockets of her romper — she’s pumped they even have pockets — and walks down the stairs. Immediately at the front door, she’s met with Emily. She’s nine now and Clementine just goes on her knees and holds her tightly. Clementine then quickly runs into Ellen, who wants to introduce her to some people — some she’s met a handful of times, some she hasn’t met once.

It’s lovely, in a way, knowing that while their lives are so intertwined, there’s always someone new to meet or someone to reunite with. The support system for all of them is so much larger than she could’ve ever dreamed of, as she grins when Sophia, who she last saw at Quinn’s draft, hugs her tight like they just saw each other yesterday. She’s in her second year at Michigan on the lacrosse team and so smiley and lovely.

Once she spots Luke, she taps his shoulder and he excuses himself from talking to one of Jim’s old friends. Luke’s constant smile this whole week has been small but genuine. As his eyes drift down to the envelope in her hands, she sees him swallow. 

Clementine hands it over and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Later, yeah? When you have a minute.”

Luke just nods expectantly. Like almost everything in life, his brothers have gotten their letters before him. If Clementine sometimes thinks too much about it, it makes her almost sad that Luke’s always had someone do something before him, whether it’s her or Quinn and Jack. But it’s also a blessing, in a way, she thinks, because in her eyes, Luke is the best out of all of them in pretty much every single way possible because he’s seen how the older three have messed up and can take from that. She knows Quinn and Jack agree. 

“Thanks for being here.”

“Of course.” She pulls him into a hug and breathes in. “Is that the cologne I gave you yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Cute.” Clementine gives him one last squeeze before pulling away. The house is filling up more and more and she knows her time is limited. “If I don’t catch you before, just remember that I love you, okay? And I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy.”

“I’ll look at the schedule soon and try to come down to see a game when I can.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Duh. I gotta put all this Michigan merch I have to some use.” 

Luke shrugs. “I don’t know-I just figured, you saw Quinn at Michigan and you’ve seen Quinn and Jack in the show. Why would you come to see something you’ve already seen, you know?”

“Because it’s you, Lukey.” She squeezes his arm. “You’re always going to be my baby brother.”

She feels him relax as he folds himself into her arms again. 

The day passes by in a blur as Clementine is enjoying catching up with everyone. And there’s a feeling of gratitude in that everyone can gather with each other again after so much isolation in different parts of the continent for so long. She sees Josh for the first time in literal years and happily spends time catching up with him. 

For most of the day, she forgets that it’s draft day. She’s just bouncing around, sipping casually on her cider and snacking. The cookies she made the night before are gone very quickly, which makes her laugh to herself. 

Once Luke disappears upstairs to get dressed, she finds herself leaning against a doorway, staring out into the living room that’s filled with people but not really looking at anything. 

“You okay?”

She turns to see her mom, pearl earrings matching her deep red blouse. Clementine grins. “Yeah. Just zoned out for a minute.”

Maeve lets out a heavy breath. “Last one.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s weird. I always knew he’d get here. All of them. But then it happens. And you think you’re prepared, but you’re not.” Clementine perks up. Her mom doesn’t often get into these types of moods, always the fun-loving, energetic woman. Her dad was more the outwardly perceptive one. Maeve just continues with a small smile. “From the most adorable little boys to incredible young men.”

Clementine laughs. “They’ll always be little to me.”

“Take how you feel and multiply that by three hundred and that’s where I’m at as I’ve seen all of you together this week,” Maeve says with a snort. She hooks her chin on Clementine’s shoulder. “Love you, Clementine.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Soon enough, everyone’s gathered in front of the TV, with a few cameras around and someone on standby who’s gonna do an interview right when Luke’s name gets called. On the couch and chairs at the front, from right to left, are Geegs, Ellen, Quinn, Luke, Jack and Jim. Her and Maeve are standing right behind Jim and Alex and Josh are next to Clementine. 

This time, it could be Anaheim or Columbus or Detroit. Maybe San Jose. 

Or it could be New Jersey. 

She knows Jack has been pretty outwardly casual about it — he knows nothing, he’s just hoping. But she knows Jack. He wants his younger brother with him. And it would be lovely for those two to play on the same team. What are the odds? 

(Apparently, pretty good.)

Luke gets drafted to New Jersey fourth overall. The whole house explodes with cheers. She’s never seen Jack so excited. Maeve puts her hands on Jim’s shoulders as Luke is hugging Quinn and Jim turns around, eyes wet. That’s what sets Clementine off crying. When it’s her turn to get a hug from Luke, she rises to her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck. 

“Congrats, Lukey. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy. I love you.”

She smacks a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.” Luke then hugs Maeve, Alex and Josh before continuing down the line. 

From there, there’s media to be down and they quickly set up. Most of the family stays in the room as the three boys adjust themselves on the couch, ready to answer some questions. After Geegs gives her a big hug and Luke throws on Jack’s Devils jersey, Clementine bites her lip and suddenly spins on her heel, feeling overwhelmed. 

Alex notices, furrowing his eyebrows as he lightly grabs her arm. “You okay?”

Clementine nods with a smile. “Yeah. I’m just gonna get some air.”

Alex just nods. “Okay,” he squeezes her shoulder in a side hug. “Don’t be too long or we’ll all come looking for you.”

“I won’t,” she promises, before quietly slipping out the screen door in the backyard. 

She takes a deep breath, wiping her eyes and deciding to take a little walk around the block. She stares out at the sky, currently painted in hues of pink and purple as the sun is starting to set. Michigan is beautiful. She can understand why they all love it. She fiddles with the three friendship bracelets and her vision blurs as she starts lightly crying again. 

It’s been a long time coming. All of this always has. But like her mom said, it doesn’t mean she’s ready for it. 

After a nice walk, Clementine sits down on the swing in the front yard. She can hear the commotion happening inside the house and in the backyard, but she’s not quite ready to go back in yet. She watches the sun continue setting, thankful that it’s just windy and cool enough to not have the mosquitos attacking her. 

Quinn’s in Vancouver. Jack’s in New Jersey. Both of them are looking to stay long term. Luke will be going to Michigan for at least a year. If Clementine’s inkling is right, it’ll be two, just like Quinn did. And then Luke will be in New Jersey. She’s in California for two more years. And then who knows where for residency afterwards. Ellen and Jim are mainly based in Michigan and her mom’s out in Massachusetts.

Will they ever all live close enough to each other again? Will there ever be more than just the holidays, which started already looking different ages ago when the boys started having tournaments at that time of the year? Will there ever be a time where they’re all able to be together for more than two — maybe three if they’re lucky — times a year? 

She’s accepted by now that no, they probably will never live near each other again or see each other more than they currently do. But she can hope, right? 

Because she’s made a home for herself in a few places now. Massachusetts, where Mom is. California, where she’s been for six years, She hasn’t lived in Toronto for six years now, but that will always be home too. 

But home, Clementine realizes, as she hears Quinn’s contagious laughter filter from the house, is this. Home is Quinn’s subtle loyalty and kindness that knows no bounds. Home is Jack’s contagious vivacity and love that envelopes every room. Home is Luke’s steadfast resilience and empathy that pulls everyone in. Home is Ellen’s warm hugs and Jim’s proud eyes. Home is her own mother’s…everything. 

Home is the way her father lives in all their memories, even six years after he’s gone. All the people he loved the most. That’s home. 

The front door opens. She looks up as Luke walks out and immediately smiles. He looks good in Devils red. “Hey.”

He grins. “Hi. I was looking for you.”

“Just needed some air. Are you done with media and interviews?”

“Yeah,” he slides in next to her. She watches his handle fiddle with the envelope, “Luke” written unmistakingly in Miguel’s handwriting. “I wanted to read this with you.”

Clementine shakes her head. “Nope. I was given very specific instructions. Your-”

“Eyes only,” Luke finishes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But could you stay here while I read it to myself?”

She softens with a smile. “Of course I can.” 

She watches as his shaky hands carefully tear open the envelope, biting her lip as he unfolds the paper. She then purposely looks away as Luke leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes scanning the words. She places a hand on his back, rubbing small circles to let him know that she’s here. Once she hears the sound of him folding the paper, she turns to look at him. His lips are quivering and she corrals him into a hug. 

“I wish he was here,” Luke chokes out through tears and Clementine tilts her chin up to the sky to try to hold back her own. “I miss him so much, Clemmy.”

“Me too, Lukey,” she whispers, letting him place his head on her lap. “Me too.”

“It’s so unfair how little time we had with him,” he says and well, Clementine’s fully crying again because yeah, she was 17 when her dad died. But Luke was 11. Not even a teenager. “All I could really think of when I got picked was that Miguel’s from Jersey.”

Clementine smiles. “Yeah.”

“Kinda feels like fate, maybe?”

“Fate sounds good,” she says softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she smiles at him. “I really like the sound of that, actually.”

There are footsteps coming closer and Clementine turns behind her to see Quinn with Jack behind him. She gives them a bittersweet smile and nods at them to come sit. Quinn slides in next to her and Jack sits on the other side of Luke. 

“You okay, Moose?” Quinn asks softly.

“Yeah,” Luke says in a scratchy voice. “I’ll come back in in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Jack says, exchanging a look with Clementine as she starts playing with Luke’s hair. “No rush.”

“Did all your letters make you feel like this?” Luke asks. 

“Yup.” Jack snorts.

“Yeah.” Quinn sighs. “It still does.”

“I had to reapply my mascara before my grad party,” Clementine says lightly. All four of them chuckle. She swallows, “I love you guys. So much.”

Quinn kisses her on the cheek as Jack reaches out behind Luke to squeeze her shoulder. “We love you more, Clem.” Quinn mutters. 

They stay out on the swing for a little while, just the four of them. Only when the sun sets do they make their way to the backyard to rejoin everyone. Before he gets pulled away again, Clementine holds Luke one last time. 

bonus - 2028 - new york city, new york

ya no quiero que llores

the universe is gonna give you muchas flores

quitate ese miedo

you’ll be a lot more, trust me, yo te entiendo

- “a letter to my younger self” ambar lucid

Clementine really didn’t need everyone to be here. It’s only a lunch after all. 

But “it’s not like we have anything going on anyways,” Quinn had said, the lunch NYU is throwing to mark the end of people’s residencies taking place at the end of June during the off season. So when NYU said she could bring up to eight guests, she didn’t really have a solid argument. 

And here they are now, sitting in a small but beautifully decorated ballroom. Clementine’s wearing a dark purple jumpsuit as she looks around the table. Nico’s to her right, talking happily with Jim on his other side. Then it’s Jack, then Luke, then Quinn, then Ellen and then finally her own mother on Clementine’s left. They’re all dressed up a bit, the guys in button ups and Ellen and Maeve with nice blouses on. It makes Clementine smile.

It’s really not a formal thing. But she’s grateful to have them all here anyways.

“Okay, real talk.” Jack says across the table, grabbing Clementine’s attention. “Your attending physician who stopped by earlier? I would hit.”

Maeve snorts. Ellen sighs and just says his name in disappointment. Jim takes a sip of his beer trying to hide a smile. Quinn and Luke roll their eyes and Nico scoffs. 

“Really?” Clementine says dryly. 

Jack, like the menace he is, just smirks. “Absolutely. I mean, I know you’re engaged or whatever, but if you weren’t…”

“The person she’s engaged to is right here,” Nico says as Jack cackles. 

Clementine rolls her eyes. “Well, Dr. Butterfield is happily married with kids. Sorry to burst your bubble. Though I’m sure Amelie would also not be thrilled.”

Jack waves her off at the mention of his girlfriend. “Amelie would probably agree with me.”

“I don’t know how Amelie deals with you,” Nico shoots back. 

“Settle down,” Clementine says in a monotone voice. Even after so many years, Nico and Jack love finding anything to bicker about off the ice. “Let me eat my pasta in peace.”

“Better listen to Clem, boys,” Jim chuckles. “It’s her day.”

“It’s her month,” Luke clarifies, elbowing Jack. “Are you trying to get uninvited to her wedding?”

“Clee would never!” Jack exclaims. Which is true, but Clementine’s glad Luke is backing her up. 

“Nico would,” Nico grumbles. Good thing they’re not seated next to each other right now or she’s sure Jack would be smacking him. Which is hilarious, considering Jack is one of Nico’s groomsmen. 

Five years. Five years since she walked into Langone for the first time. Five years since she moved into Hoboken with Jack and Luke. She may not live with them anymore, but sometimes, with the amount they’re over her and Nico’s house, it feels like she still does. 

Five years of great moments and really, really tough ones. Five years of highlighters in her mouth, pencils twisted in a bun atop of her head, dark under-eye circles after overnight shifts, delirious conversations with her fellow residents and so, so much coffee. And before that, eight years of school, sometimes forgetting what it was all for. But here she is.

Doctor Clementine Sandoval has a nice ring to it. 

She’s brought out of her own world when she feels Nico squeeze her thigh lightly. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You zoned out again.”

She hums lightly. Nico always knows when to bring her back to the present. “Thanks.” He just kisses her temple. 

Along with eighteen other new doctors, Clementine’s called up on the stage to receive her certificate. Dr. Butterfield says a few words about her in front of everyone that she thinks are far too kind and she can’t help but laugh when she hears her whole table cheering as her picture’s being taken. 

“You have a lot of loud supporters,” Dr. Butterfield jokes as he shakes her hand. 

She snickers. “You have no idea.”

“They seem lovely. Keep them close.”

“They are. I will.”

“Enjoy your time off. You deserve it. We’ll see you back at NYU in September.”

Clementine beams. “Thanks Doc. I’m looking forward to it.”

After lunch is over, they go outside and take pictures right by Battery Park, where the lunch was held. Unlike the three brothers, she doesn't complain about the amount of pictures Ellen, Jim and Maeve want to take, just grinning and laughing as Nico pokes her side. They split up to drive back to Nico and Clementine’s in Jersey — Ellen, Jim and Maeve in one car and her, Nico, Quinn, Jack and Luke in the other. Nico is somehow roped into driving and Clementine knows he probably regrets that. You put five 25-31 year olds who see each other simultaneously too little and too much in the same car when there’s an annoying amount of traffic and it’s an interesting ride. 

“Someone must be throwing a party,” Clementine comments as they turn onto the cul de sac, cars lining up the curb. She squints at her and Nico’s driveway at two familiar cars. “What are Dougie and Bratter doing here?” Nico just gives her a shrug. The brothers in the back don’t respond either. “What are you guys not telling me?”

“Chill, Clee,” Jack says. “We have no idea what’s going on either. We’ll find out in two seconds anyways. 

She almost believes him. Instead, she falls in step with Nico, who locks the car. “What’s going on?” She mutters.

Nico just smiles, hand on her lower back naturally. “It’s all good. Just trust me.”

And the thing is, she does. She trusts Nico with her life. 

The second she walks through the door, she jumps as a chorus of “congratulations” echoes through the home. She scans the room quickly. The house is decorated with streamers and balloons, there are food and snacks all over and their home looks so filled. 

Maeve, Ellen and Jim beat them here, all looking very proud. Next to them are Quinn, Jack and Luke with big smiles, next to their significant others — Amelie snapping pictures with her camera, Jordyn leaning back into Luke’s chest, and even Grace is here, Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist that’s starting to show her small, beautiful baby bump. Grace is supposed to be on tour singing in front of a sold-out crowd in Florida right now.

And then there’s Dougie. And Jesper and Nicole and their toddler son. And Timo and Steph. And Erik and Kristen and their kids. And Seamus. And Jonas. And Ethan. And Nate and Dawson and their significant others. And seemingly almost every other Devils player, most present, some past. And then there’s Trevor, Alex and Cole and Clementine feels like she’s 21 again.

Then there’s her family, blood related and not. Her Uncle Thomas and Aunt Mariana — Thomas is Miguel’s younger brother. Her Aunt Aoife, who was in California literally two days ago. Those are the only blood-related family members who live in the US, and they’re all here. Then there’s Lara and John and Emily, who’s somehow 16 now. Other various members of the Hughes extended family who she’s always loved are dispersed around. 

And then a smattering of her friends from UCLA, Stanford and NYU, all cheering enthusiastically. The ones who made all those years filled with light even in the darkest crevices.

The house is filled with so many people she loves. As she turns back to look at Nico, she feels overwhelmed. “What’s all this?” She chokes out.

“To celebrate you,” Nico says with a twinkle in his eye. 

“His idea, by the way.” Emilia calls out with a grin. Clementine has to laugh. Because of course it is. 

“I love you,” she whispers to Nico, pecking him on the lips. 

“I love you.” He repeats back. “Now go celebrate with everyone.”

And celebrate with everyone she does. As she does that, she can’t help but steal glances at Nico from wherever she is in the room. Because she’s been blessed with having a wonderful support system — the people currently in this house prove that — but there’s never been anyone quite like Nico who just loves her so wholly and wants to celebrate her all the time. 

Later that night, after she bids goodbye and a gracious thank you to Jesper and Nicole, who stayed to help clean up, she lets out a deep breath. It’s just her and her brothers and all the significant others now, Ellen, Jim and Maeve having retired up to bed half an hour ago. She collapses on the couch next to Nico. She stays quiet as she listens to Luke and Grace arguing about something that really reminds Clementine that Grace may be married to Quinn, but Grace met Luke first at a bar in New York years ago and has refused to stop making fun of him since then.

It was just her and the boys for so long. She’s so happy that they’ve all found their own counterparts throughout the years. 

“Thank you for today,” she mutters to Nico. “Seriously. It was…thank you.”

“Of course,” Nico says, his thumb going over the ring on her left hand. “You’re so loved, baby. Any chance to remind you of that is worth it to me.” She just leans up to kiss him. 

“Ew,” Luke says, ruining the moment. Jordyn slaps him for that one. 

Clementine scoffs, “Fuck off. We’re literally getting married next month.”

“Okay and?” Even at 25, Luke is still her annoying little brother. “I know today’s your day and all, but sucking face with my captain is not something I really want to see.”

“Then look away.”

Quinn snorts under his breath. “You guys are impossible.”

“Learn to deal with it, Quinny,” Jack smirks. “You have a child coming soon. If they’re anything like Grace, they’re gonna be fighting you all the time.” 

Grace reaches over her husband and shoves Jack. “Watch it, Hughes. Unless you want your backstage pass taken away when you come to my show in two weeks.”

Jack gasps dramatically. “But I haven’t gotten to see you perform in ages!”

“Exactly. So zip it.”

Amelie makes eye contact with Clementine and Nico with an eye roll. “They exhaust me.” And Clementine has to laugh, because they’ve all made the choice to be exhausted by each other.

Soon after, everyone’s tired out from the day’s festivities and starts heading to their respective rooms for the evening. Clementine trails behind everyone, shutting the lights off and making sure the doors are locked. 

She’s about to shut the light off in the living room when she stops, catching sight of a photo frame hung on the wall opposite the couch. They don’t have many frames hung up around the house, but the photos they do have hung up are important.

She stares at her father’s face. The picture was taken when Clementine was fifteen. The three of them were about to go to Thomas and Mariana’s wedding, Maeve in a long blue dress, Miguel in a dashing suit with a matching blue tie and Clementine in a glittery pink dress. They’re all smiling at the camera in front of a sunset. It’s one of Clementine’s favorites. 

Suddenly, her throat closes up as her father’s voice echoes through her brain. “The universe is gonna give you muchas flores,” he always said. All the flowers, he would say. She thinks he said that on the hospital bed on his last day. She’s long forgiven herself for not remembering every word from that day anymore. 

Nico comes from behind and his hands wrap around her shoulders as she grabs his wrists. She then turns her head to the picture right next to it and smiles. It’s of her and Nico almost two years ago on New Year’s Eve, four hours before Nico would get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of their lives together. And then lastly, to the right of that picture, a frame with three pictures in one. Her, Quinn, Jack and Luke all during their respective drafts. The same photoset is hanging in their homes as well. 

She feels Nico kiss the back of her head and she smiles, before turning and heading to bed, Nico’s arm around her shoulder.

long live the walls we crashed through

i had the time of my life with you

[andthenshesaid-write]

Fathers and Sons Fic #3: Update 1

I thought it was time to do an update about the state of the third (and final) 'Fathers and Sons' fic. If I'm being honest, it hasn't been an easy time, which I wasn't prepared for because the first two fics were very easy to get through. It felt almost like they wrote themselves. That hasn't been the case with this one.

The draft I'm currently working on is actually the second draft. I started writing the first a few days after I posted No Legacy So Rich and worked on it for about a week before I finally acknowledged that it wasn't working. So then I took a couple of weeks off to think it through. After talking about it with a friend, I settled on a new angle to approach it from and I started again on what is now the second draft. I'm pleased to say that this one is coming along much better. As of tonight I have about 13,500 words, which is a lot, but at the same time, I feel like the story is only just getting started. I'm not sure how this progress compares to the second fic, but I know the first in the series was about 14k words at the halfway point. I'm nowhere near that currently so I have no idea how long this story is going to be.

I also don't have a super clear idea of how I'm going to get where I'm going. That in itself isn't unusual because I write using the flashlight method, which means I know largely where I'm going but I don't really know how I'm going to get there. I'm just writing scene by scene. My daily word counts are also lower on average than they were for the previous two fics. For the other two, I was writing between 800 and 1000 words per day, but for this third fic it's more normal for me to do between 500 and 800. That means that, unless I really hit my stride, it's probably going to take me longer to get through this one. I went into this hoping to have the third fic finished and released before the end of Lone Star S5 but I'm now resigned to the fact that that might not happen. There's still a chance, because I saw the other day that the last two episodes are slated to air in 2025, but I'm not holding my breath. I just really want to do the story justice and if that takes more time, it takes more time.

With that slightly disappointing update out of the way, I'll leave you with some info about the third fic.

I've had the idea for this fic since the day after I posted the first one and from that moment, I've referred to it as 'The Jonah Fic', because that's what it is. I wanted to write a trilogy that shifted the attention between each of the people in the Strand-Reyes-Morgan family, and now it's Jonah's turn. The third fic begins ten years after the end of the previous one, so we're reintroduced to Jonah in his teens. Some of his problems are typical for people his age, while others are specific to him, and he's just trying to work his way through it.

I've loved getting to write Jonah in this series. When talking to some friends I always called him the secret sauce of the series and I think that's still true. It's just a bit different seeing the world from his perspective, instead of viewing him through the eyes of TK or Carlos.

I've been in fandoms for a long time so I know that people will probably be disappointed about the shift away from TK, Carlos and Tarlos, and I don't expect Jonah's fic to be as popular as the previous two. Still, I hope that some people will give it a chance and that people who enjoyed the previous installments will come back to see how the story wraps up because it's been a monumental task for me to even get this far and I'm really proud of the story I'm telling.

[mins-fins]

꒦꒷꒷꒦ WORKS iN PROGR3SS !

i.e everything of user mins-fins drafts that is being actively written !! this should not be as huge as it is but oh well 😖 this bitch writes too much.. (these are long form) ⤷ currently, these are for nct, zb1, txt, and recently tbz (woah 😯) all male reader! last updated : 09.01.24

𓈀 🎞️ www.heaventome.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. njm  ᎓ about somewhat psycho surgeons, work acquaintances to lovers, workplace relationships, vigilantism, and if one can be both judge and jury﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 24–28k.

𓈀 🌠 www.skylineto.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. zcl  ᎓ about heirs to an enormous fortune, arranged relationships for company merging, they hate each other!! (but do they?), bickering as a segway to romance, mutual pining﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 23–24k.

𓈀 🦋 www.butterflydust.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. pjs  ᎓ about a boring summer turned interesting, insanely pretty bartenders, a fwb arrangement that is just a little too romantic, free kisses for free drinks, park jisung having no idea how to talk to men﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 12k.

𓈀 🎸 www.gunsandroses.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. cbg  ᎓ about the annoying guitarist across the street, enemies since childhood, "i hate you more" "no i hate you more", writing songs about you while your in the crowd, a big no no to the l word﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 16k.

𓈀 🌺 www.marigold.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. sqr, kgv, pgw  ᎓ about knights in training that have no idea what they're doing, conflicting romantic feelings, murderous ghost kings, a fight over whose gonna get the guy, and han yujun's judgmental looks﹚ est wc. ៸៸ ??.

𓈀 ⚽️ www.itsallinthekicks.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. ksw  ᎓ about a goalkeeper and defender who just can't stand each other, soccer rivalries 4life!, do you want to kiss him or kill him? (it's both), bickering that almost becomes kissing but it never does, eric our unintentional instigator﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 14k.

𓈀 🔆 www.semperfidelis.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. hrj  ᎓ about the crown prince and his newly appointed knight, just barely tip toeing the line of platonic and romantic, art references, "i would kill anyone for you" "all i did was smile?", too many almost kissing moments﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 22k.

𓈀 🔮 www.nitimurinvetitum.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. ljn  ᎓ about a magic skeptical prince and a not so well trained wizard!.. who accidentally knocks him out, fantasyland shenanigans like getting chased by evil spirits, forbidden relationship, "i keep seeing you in my dreams" "..is that your way of confessing your love to me?", magical-soulmate-type-connection-thing﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 24k.

𓈀 💌 www.happinesslies.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. mkl  ᎓ about a suspiciously homo friendship, totally not romantic first kisses between friends with the excuse being "practice", miscommunication, mark lee being a terrible liar, love confessions through letters﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 20k.

𓈀 💌 www.slowjourney.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. jjh  ᎓ about a second chance romance, a heavily awkward office environment, exes who can't become friends for some "unknown reasons", flowers as a love language, "it's always been you"﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 17k.

𓈀 👑 www.sapereaude.com ! 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ft. njm  ᎓ about enemies fighting the same war, murderous crown princes who have bones to pick with each other, a burn so slow you wonder if there is any romance, trauma responses that are definitely unhealthy, marriage? absolutely not.﹚ est wc. ៸៸ 25–30k.

more wips tba . . .