#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.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Embracing the Mission

Christmas Special 🎄

Julie x Natty x Belle x Male Reader

word count 14K

A/n: last fic of the Christmas Special

Christmas Eve. Quiet, solemn, lonely. The kind of night where you can’t decide if you’re grateful for the silence or crushed beneath its weight. You drag yourself up the stairs, the old wood creaking under your feet. The dull glow of Christmas lights spills from the living room, blinking in patterns that feel more mocking than festive. You’ve always been a good guy, the dependable one, the “nice” one, but here you are, one stocking hung, one bed waiting for nobody but yourself.

At the top of the stairs, just as your hand brushes the railing, the doorbell rings.

You freeze.

Who the hell rings a doorbell on Christmas Eve this late? Solicitors don’t work tonight, and your neighbors barely talk to you during daylight hours. For a long moment, you consider ignoring it. Then it rings again—insistent, cheery.

You shuffle back down, mumbling under your breath about late-night pranks and cold drafts. Pulling the door open, you’re met with a sight that doesn’t just stop your breath; it slams it into reverse.

Two girls stand on your porch. They’re stunning in a way that should be illegal. The first one has curves so generous they practically defy gravity, her chest straining against a red and green corset that looks stitched from mischief itself. Her long, dark hair frames a face you could mistake for angelic if not for the sly twinkle in her eyes.

“Hi! I’m Natty!” she says brightly, as if this is the most normal introduction in the world.

Beside her, the other one radiates an entirely different energy: poised, commanding, her toned body wrapped in something close to a uniform, sharp lines of green velvet hugging her hips. Her dark brown hair glints in the soft light, and the arch of her brow suggests she’s used to being in charge.

“I’m Julie,” she says, her voice smoother, more measured. Then, in perfect unison, they chirp:

“And we need your help!”

You blink. Then you blink again. “Uh…”

“Wait, where’s Belle?” Julie cuts you off, her brow furrowing as she scans the space behind you.

“Typical,” Natty groans, folding her arms beneath her chest, which only makes the situation more distracting. “Always late.”

Before you can process any of this, a loud thunk echoes from inside your house, followed by a flurry of soot and a muffled cough. Spinning around, you see something—a someone—sprawled across your fireplace hearth.

“What the hell—”

The girl clambers to her feet, brushing coal dust off a mess of blonde hair. She's the same height as that other girl, Julie. With delicate features and wide, apologetic dark eyes that suggest she’s either innocent or very good at faking it. She’s wearing a short red dress streaked with ash, and she’s scowling as if this is somehow your fault.

“Belle!” Natty snaps. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You said to come in sneaky!” Belle protests, hands on her hips. “The chimney’s sneaky!”

“Not that sneaky, dumbass,” Julie groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Even Santa Claus doesn’t actually use chimneys. That’s a marketing thing.”

“You said stealth!” Belle shoots back, still smudged with coal and radiating indignation. “Stealth means unconventional entry points! It’s basic infiltration tactics!”

“I swear, I’m going to—” Natty starts, but Julie waves her off, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s just… move on. The whole night’s a disaster already.”

With that, they sweep past you and invade your home.

“Okay, hold up,” you interrupt, raising your hands. “Who are you people, and why are you in my house?!”

Julie turns her piercing gaze on you, suddenly all business. “We’re Santa’s elves.”

You stare. They stare back.

“…Elves,” you repeat.

“Uh-huh,” Natty confirms, nodding so enthusiastically that her chest threatens to break free of its corset.

Belle perks up. “Yeah! We work at the North Pole!” She pauses, then adds, “Well, usually. Technically, we’re on maternity leave before the fact.”

“Maternity leave?”

Julie steps forward, her voice low and commanding. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. The birth rate in the North Pole is… concerningly low. Like, end-of-our-species low. We need help. Specifically, your help.”

“…My help,” you echo, your brain lagging behind the speed of this conversation.

Natty leans in, her lips quirking in a teasing smile. “We need you to get us pregnant.”

For a moment, the world tilts sideways. “Is this some kind of weird prank? Am I being filmed?”

“It sounds fake, doesn’t it?” Belle says, skipping over to you with a little bounce in her step. “But it’s totally true! Look—” She grabs your hand and drags it toward her head.

“Whoa, what are you—”

“Feel my ear!”

You hesitate, then give in, tugging lightly at one of her pointy ears. It’s soft, warm, pliant, and very much attached to her skull.

“Ow!” she yelps, batting your hand away. “What are you, a sadist?”

“They’re real,” you whisper, finally starting to believe them.

“Duh,” Natty says with a smirk. “So? You in?”

Your laugh comes out half-hysterical. “You think I’m just going to say yes to… to that?!”

Julie crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve always been a good boy. Generous, kind, single…”

“That’s why I’m single!” you snap, throwing your hands in the air. “I don’t go around impregnating random women—elf women—on Christmas!”

“See?” Belle chimes in. “He is perfect. I told you.”

You groan, running a hand down your face. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s happening,” Natty says, stepping closer. Her scent—cinnamon and something sweeter—fills your lungs, and suddenly the room feels ten degrees hotter.

Julie’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “All we’re asking is that you help save a species. A race. Think of it as… the ultimate Christmas gift.”

Belle pipes up, already raiding your kitchen. “If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry!”

Natty plops herself onto your couch like she owns the place, her corset straining as she lounges back, legs crossed. Belle's rifling through your fridge now, pulling out milk like this is her second home, while Julie perches herself neatly on the armrest of the chair across from you, her hands clasped like she’s about to break into a corporate PowerPoint presentation.

Julie clears her throat. “All right, let’s break this down. The North Pole is in crisis.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan, flopping into the recliner. “Is Mrs. Claus filing for divorce? Did Santa get caught in a Ponzi scheme?”

Belle laughs from the kitchen, milk mustache and all. Natty, meanwhile, grins. “Ooh, I like him. He’s got jokes.”

“Let’s stay focused,” Julie says sharply, shooting a glare at both of them before turning back to you. “It’s not a joke. The population at the Pole is dwindling. Our fertility rates have been tanking for decades.”

“Have you ever considered having sex with other elves?” you ask

“Ha,” Julie deadpans. “No. It’s a genetic bottleneck problem. Too much inbreeding, not enough diversity.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Am I about to be roped into a weird elf eugenics experiment? I didn’t sign up for this.”

Natty leans forward, her cleavage doing distracting things that seem entirely intentional. “You’re not roped into anything, sweetheart. But let’s just say you’ve been on the Nice List for decades. That’s not common. We figured, hey, why not pick someone who’s already a certified good boy?”

Belle chimes in from the kitchen, still munching on what might be your last box of Oreos. “And it’s not like you’ve got any plans tonight, right?”

You glare at her. “I could’ve had plans.”

“With who?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she holds up a half-eaten cookie. “These? Didn’t think so.”

Julie rubs her temples like she’s dealing with toddlers. “The point is, the North Pole relies on elves to keep everything running smoothly. Toy production, reindeer care, Santa’s logistics—”

“—the strip club down on Candy Cane Lane—” Natty interjects with a wink.

Julie doesn’t miss a beat. “—all of it requires a stable population. We’re dangerously low. If we don’t start producing new elves, the entire system collapses.”

“Okay, but why me?” you ask, gesturing at yourself like there must be some mistake. “There’s eight billion people on the planet. You couldn’t have found someone… better qualified?”

Natty shrugs. “Most people don’t qualify for the Nice List. And a lot of the ones who do are, like, seven years old.”

“Or old ladies who bake cookies for their neighbors,” Belle adds.

“And you’re… what? Prime reproductive age? Decent genetics? Plus, you live alone, so no messy drama with spouses or girlfriends. Frankly, you’re the perfect candidate,” Julie finishes matter-of-factly.

You snort. “Wow, thanks. Nothing boosts a guy’s ego like being told he’s a walking sperm donor with no social life.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Natty says, standing up and sauntering over to you. She plants her hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until her face is inches from yours. “You’re also cute.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second before you manage to sputter, “Girls, this is crazy. It sounds like something out of an erotic fiction written by a sick mind.”

“It’s practical,” Julie counters. “We’re not asking you to marry us. We’re asking for your… genetic material. Through, uh, direct methods.”

“Oh, is that all?” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, let me just whip out my North Pole application and put ‘elf breeding kink’ under special skills.”

Belle wanders over now, plopping onto the couch and curling her legs beneath her. “Look, it’s not like you’re doing it for free. Think of it as an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You get to help save Christmas and have sex with three hot elves. Win-win, right? It's not that difficult, elves are very, very fertile.”

Natty grins, her lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as she whispers, “Bet no one’s ever left that off their bucket list.”

You shove her away gently, shaking your head. “You’re all insane. I should call the cops.”

“Oh, please,” Belle scoffs. “What’re you gonna say? ‘Help, three elves broke into my house and asked me to impregnate them’? You’d be on YouTube before the night’s over.”

“Wait, do elves also watch YouTube?”

Julie sighs, standing up and dusting off her hands. “Listen, we’ll give you some time to think about it. But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about us. It’s about every elf, every reindeer, every child who wakes up on Christmas morning hoping for magic.”

"Be mindful, this could be a total game-changer!” Belle exclaims. “Imagine if other elves join us, we'd have the numbers to make the North Pole council change their rules. Interracial babies for everyone! It would be legendary!” She's clearly excited about the idea.

“That’s a lot of pressure,” you mutter.

Natty strokes your arm, her smile equal parts playful and predatory. “You’ll rise to the occasion. I can feel it.”

Belle snickers. “Or we’ll make you.”

—

You shut your bedroom door, leaning against it like it might keep the insanity out. Your room feels smaller, tighter, like the walls are closing in on you. You sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at your hands, the events of the last hour replaying in loops too ridiculous to comprehend.

Three elves. Pregnant. By you.

You look at the glow-in-the-dark clock on your wall, its numbers mocking you. Midnight, Christmas Day. The kind of moment that should be filled with a warm cup of cocoa, maybe a silly Christmas movie in the background. Instead, you’re debating whether to turn your house into the world’s weirdest fertility clinic.

You groan, dragging your hands through your hair. It’s not like you’re against the idea. They’re beautiful—beyond beautiful—but this isn’t just some quick hookup. They’re asking for something bigger. Permanent. And yeah, it’d be easy to chalk it up to a crazy story you tell yourself later, but you can’t stop thinking about what it would mean.

Kids. Real, flesh-and-blood kids. Yours.

You’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know how heavy the quiet can get. It’s not the sex you’re hesitating about—it’s what comes after. You can’t just pump and dump (so to speak). That’s not who you are.

A burst of laughter from the living room pulls you out of your spiral. You push yourself off the bed and head to the door. Whatever decision you make, it’s better than sitting here stewing in your own head.

When you step back into the living room, they’re sprawled across your couch like they’ve lived here for years. The TV’s on, tuned to some Christmas classic, though the sound’s muted. Natty’s flipping through your Blu-ray collection, shaking her head at your lack of romantic comedies. Belle’s halfway through a bag of chips you’re pretty sure you were saving for New Year’s.

“You know, those were mine,” you say, pointing at the chips.

She grins, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. “Finders, eaters.”

Julie barely glances up from where she’s scrolling on your phone. “So? Have you come to your senses?”

You take a deep breath, stepping further into the room. “I’ve made my decision.”

The room goes still. Belle pauses mid-chew. Natty freezes with a DVD case in hand. Julie sits up straighter, her eyes locked on you like a hawk.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “On one condition.”

Natty perks up immediately. “Name it, stud.”

“I want to see the kids.”

The room practically tilts sideways with the weight of their confusion.

Julie narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to just… make them and never see them again,” you explain, running a hand over the back of your neck. “If we’re doing this, I want to be part of their lives. I want to know them. I want to have a family.”

They all stare at you like you just grew a second head. Even Belle, who has been entirely food-focused until now, sets the chips down to gape at you.

Julie is the first to recover, though her tone is softer now. “Why? That wasn’t part of the deal. You’d be doing your… civic duty, so to speak. Why do you care what happens after?”

You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake. I don’t want to be a ghost in their lives. Hell, I don’t even have anyone now, let alone a family. Maybe this is my chance.”

That last part slips out before you can stop it, and you immediately regret how vulnerable it sounds.

The elves exchange glances. Natty bites her lip, Julie furrows her brow, and Belle just looks vaguely guilty. Without a word, they huddle together in the corner, whispering furiously.

“Oh, come on, you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” you call out, gesturing to their huddle.

“Shh!” Natty waves a dismissive hand at you, her voice muffled. “We’re deliberating.”

Belle glances back at you once, her lips twitching like she might smile. Julie smacks her on the arm, dragging her back into their huddle.

After what feels like an eternity, they break apart, turning to face you with synchronized seriousness. Julie steps forward as the spokesperson.

“Alright. We’ll allow it.”

“Allow it?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she continues, ignoring your tone. “It’s unconventional, but you’ve proven yourself to be… an exceptionally good boy.”

Natty snickers. “You’re, like, too good. It’s almost weird.”

Belle beams. “It’s sweet!”

You exhale, relief flooding through you. “Okay, good. Then we’re all on the same page.”

Julie smirks, tilting her head toward the hallway. “We are. Now, let’s get started.”

Before you can process her words, Natty grabs one hand, Julie takes the other, and they start tugging you toward the bedroom.

“Wait, right now?” you stammer, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Natty says, throwing a playful wink over her shoulder. “You’re not getting out of this, Mister Family Man.”

Belle trails behind, licking chip dust off her fingers as she grins, a new bag in the other hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait my turn. I’m still eating.”

The door to your bedroom looms closer, and for the first time all night, you realize you might actually be in over your head.

—

The bedroom feels both foreign and familiar, lit softly by the glow of Christmas lights strung around the window. Julie and Natty waste no time, their hands still locked around yours as they pull you toward the bed, their intentions as clear as the sly smiles on their faces. Your heart hammers in your chest as the door clicks shut behind Belle, her footsteps slow and casual.

Natty is the first to spin around, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she steps in close, the scent of peppermint and something deeper, muskier, teasing your senses. Julie mirrors her movements, sliding behind you with a grace that’s almost predatory, her hands grazing your shoulders.

You’re caught between them, their bodies pressed against you—soft and warm in all the right places. Julie’s lips ghost over your ear, her voice a low purr. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. We’ll make this… unforgettable.”

Natty chuckles, her hands already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “Oh, he’s already enchanted. Look at him.”

And she’s not wrong. Your gaze flickers to her pointed ears, impossibly cute, twitching slightly as she speaks. You can’t help yourself; your hand lifts, fingers brushing the curve of one. She gasps softly, her body trembling against you.

“Sensitive, huh?” you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.

Natty smirks, leaning into your touch. “You’ve got no idea.”

Julie’s hands are more decisive, sliding down your chest as Natty tugs your shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare to the room’s cool air. Her nails drag lightly across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Behind you, Julie’s fingers work at your belt, a faint laugh escaping her lips as she feels the bulge already straining against your jeans. “Well, someone’s eager.”

“You’re the ones who dragged me in here,” you shoot back, though your voice is breathless.

Natty steps back, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as her fingers move to the laces of her corset. She catches your gaze, a teasing smile curving her lips as she deliberately slows, each pull on the strings heightening the anticipation. Bit by bit, the tension gives way, and her ample cleavage begins to spill over, the fabric struggling to contain her.

With a final tug, the corset slackens, and she slides it down her torso, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. The garment falls away, revealing the smooth, unblemished plane of her skin, glowing in the dim light. Her breasts, full and impossibly perfect, sway slightly with her motion, their weight almost defying reason, nipples already stiffened peaks begging for attention.

Natty doesn’t stop there. Her hands travel lower, unfastening her skirt and letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it, the shift leaving her in only a pair of thin, lacy panties clinging to her hips. Her fingers hook into the waistband, and she peels them down inch by inch, the reveal torturously slow until the fabric slides off completely, leaving her bare.

She stands there unabashed, her toned figure on full display, the curves of her hips leading to the bare mound of her pussy, glistening slightly in the light. She tosses the corset aside with a devilish grin, her eyes locking onto yours.

“Like what you see?” she teases, palming her own chest and giving it a little bounce.

Before you can answer, Julie tugs your pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving your cock springing free, hard and ready. She hums appreciatively, her sharp eyes glinting as she reaches out to grip it lightly, her fingers warm and confident.

Belle, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair in the corner, Opening the new bag of chips. She crosses her legs, leaning back like she’s settling in for a show.

“Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice light and amused. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“More like immoral support,” Natty quips, stepping out of the rest of her clothes to reveal curves that could have been sculpted by a god. Her hips sway as she moves closer, and you can’t help but stare, utterly captivated.

You sit on your bed, Julie begins to unbutton the top of her elven uniform, sensually removing the velvet from her skin, The red lingerie reveals her medium-sized, round and perfectly formed breasts that, combined with her smooth skin, leave you almost drooling. She slides down to her knees in front of you, her dark brown hair pooling around her shoulders as she gazes up at you with a wicked grin. “All right, let’s set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” you echo, your brain barely functioning under the weight of what’s happening.

“I’m going first,” she says simply, her hand stroking your length with slow, deliberate precision. “I’ll be the first one pregnant. But first…” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “We’ve gotta get you nice and ready.”

Natty giggles, pressing herself against your side, her breasts warm and soft against your arm. “Oh, he’s ready. Look at him.”

Julie doesn’t respond, too focused as she leans in, her tongue tracing a line along the underside of your cock. The sensation sends a shiver racing up your spine, and you grip the edge of the bed for support.

“Jesus,” you breathe, your head falling back.

“Not quite,” Julie murmurs, her lips wrapping around the tip.

Her mouth is warm, wet, and devastatingly skilled as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling in maddening patterns. Natty watches with a smirk, her fingers trailing down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin.

Belle’s voice drifts over from the chair, smug and teasing. “Damn, Julie. Save some for the rest of us.”

Julie pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your slick length. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your jaw as she whispers, “She likes to make a mess. You should see her when she’s serious.”

You groan, caught between the relentless heat of Julie’s mouth and the soft press of Natty’s body against yours.

Julie doesn’t waste a second. She tightens her grip at the base of your cock, guiding it back between her lips with the kind of confidence that only comes from experience—or maybe instinct. Her mouth is pure heaven: warm, wet, and impossibly tight as she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing with every movement.

The sight of her on her knees, her brown dark hair falling around her flushed face, has you twitching in her mouth, and she hums in approval, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and mischievous, as her tongue swirls around your head before she dives lower, taking you all the way in until your cock is brushing the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Julie,” you groan, your hips jerking forward instinctively.

Natty laughs softly from beside you, her full, bare breasts pressed against your arm as she leans in. “She’s a pro, isn’t she? Makes you wonder what other surprises she’s hiding.”

Her voice drips with teasing warmth, and you turn your head, unable to resist the lure of her body. Her tits are huge—soft and heavy, nipples stiff and begging for attention. You cup one in your hand, marveling at the weight of it, and she shivers, biting her lip.

“Don’t be shy,” she murmurs, pushing herself closer. “I’ve got plenty to keep you busy.”

Your mouth finds her nipple, hot and eager, and she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair as you suck gently, your tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. Her skin is soft and smooth under your lips, and you move to her other breast, giving it the same attention as her moans grow louder.

Meanwhile, Julie’s pace is relentless, her head bobbing as she works your cock with a combination of tongue, lips, and sheer determination. The obscene sounds of her mouth—wet, messy, and utterly filthy—fill the room, mingling with Natty’s soft cries and the distant hum of Christmas lights.

Belle, still perched in the chair with her snacks, snorts. “Damn, Julie, you trying to drown him? I can hear that slurping from here.”

Julie pulls back just enough to shoot Belle a look, her lips glistening with spit. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d do something useful for once.”

Belle grins, taking a lazy sip of her milk. “I am doing something. I’m observing. Documenting this historic moment. You’re welcome.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Julie mutters before turning her focus back to you.

She grips your cock tighter, her other hand cupping your balls as her mouth slides down again, taking you even deeper this time. The wet heat of her throat surrounds you, and you can’t stop the groan that tears from your chest, your hips bucking slightly.

“Careful,” Natty teases, her voice breathy as you switch back to her other nipple, sucking harder this time. “You don’t want to choke her. She’s got a small throat.”

Julie glares up at her, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her movements faster, rougher, as if to prove a point. The slick noises of her blowjob grow louder, lewd and shameless, and your legs tremble as she works you closer to the edge.

“Holy fuck,” you manage to gasp, your hand gripping her hair as she takes you all the way again, her lips flush against the base of your cock.

Belle claps mockingly from the chair. “Bravo! Give the girl a medal. Or maybe a towel. She’s making a mess.”

You glance down and see that she’s right—Julie’s chin is glistening with spit, and a thin line of drool drips from her mouth to the floor. She doesn’t care. If anything, she leans into it, her hands stroking you as she pulls back to catch her breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock.

“God, you’re a mess,” you say, half-laughing, half-moan.

Julie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her grin wicked. “You fucking love it.”

And she’s not wrong.

Natty, watching from your side, lets out a low chuckle, her hands sliding down her own curves.

“You’re hogging all the fun,” Natty purrs, leaning forward, her full breasts pressing against your side. “Don’t you believe in sharing, Julie? It is Christmas.”

Julie raises an eyebrow, her tongue flicking out to lick a stray bead of spit from her lips. “Think you can keep up?”

Natty grins, already dropping to her knees beside Julie. “Try me.”

Your cock twitches at the sight of them kneeling together, their hair—a mix of raven-black and chestnut brown—falling around their faces like something out of a dirty dream. Natty’s hand joins Julie’s, her grip firm but teasing as she strokes you alongside her.

“Damn, you’re big,” Natty murmurs, her fingers wrapping around your shaft as she glances up at you. “Santa Claus really chose the right guy.”

Julie rolls her eyes but leans forward again, her lips brushing the tip of your cock as Natty keeps stroking. “Quit talking and get to work,” she mutters before taking you back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

Natty doesn’t miss a beat. She leans in from the side, her tongue darting out to lick along your shaft, tracing every vein with slow, deliberate strokes. Her lips are soft and warm as they move lower, trailing down to your balls, and you nearly lose your balance as her mouth closes around one, sucking gently.

“Holy shit,” you groan, your head falling back as they work in perfect sync.

Julie pulls off with a wet pop, her lips curling into a smirk. “He likes that. Don’t stop, Natty.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Natty replies, her voice muffled as she switches to your other ball, her tongue swirling in slow circles.

Julie takes you back into her mouth, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm that leaves you trembling. She takes you deeper this time, her throat tightening around your cock as she moves faster, her hand stroking what she can’t fit. Natty’s hands roam, one gripping your thigh while the other strokes the base of your shaft in time with Julie’s movements.

“You two are gonna kill me,” you manage to gasp, your hands tangling in their hair as pleasure courses through you.

Natty pulls back just enough to laugh, her lips shiny with spit. “Kill you? Baby, we’re just getting started.”

She leans up, her mouth joining Julie’s at the tip of your cock, their tongues meeting in a wet, messy kiss around you. The sight alone is almost enough to make you lose it—two gorgeous girls, their mouths working together, their spit mixing as they trade kisses and licks across your length.

“God, that’s hot,” Belle mutters from the armchair, her voice low and lazy. You glance over to see her lounging with one leg draped over the armrest. “I’d offer to join, but you two look like you’ve got it handled.”

Julie shoots her a glare without pulling her mouth away, her tongue swirling around your head before she pushes you deep again. Natty giggles, licking a long stripe up your shaft before wrapping her lips around the base, her hand stroking in tandem with Julie’s bobbing head.

The combination is overwhelming—Julie’s throat tightening around you, Natty’s tongue teasing every sensitive spot, their hands and mouths working together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Your legs shake, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as they push you closer and closer to the edge.

You pull back, your cock slick with their spit, and both women look up at you in surprise, lips swollen, faces flushed.

“Stop,” you pant, your voice rough. “I need more. Julie—get on the bed.”

Julie’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Finally ready to stop playing around, huh?”

She stands gracefully, peeling off the scraps of her lingerie as she moves. Her body is toned and lithe, her skin gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights outside, visible through the window. Her breasts are perky, her waist narrow, and when she turns to climb onto the bed, you can’t stop yourself from staring at her ass—big, perfectly round, the kind of ass that seems sculpted to be fucked.

Natty is already lying on her back, her legs spread wide, her glistening pussy on full display. She props herself up on her elbows, watching the two of you with a grin. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Don’t be shy, Julie. Show him how it’s done.”

Julie positions herself on all fours, her back arched and her cheeks raised in invitation. She glances over her shoulder, her dark eyes filled with challenge and anticipation. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

You don’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed behind her, you grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft, supple skin. Her pussy is already dripping, her arousal glistening in the light, and you drag the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her.

“Come on, shove it in my pussy,” she snaps, her voice sharp but laced with need.

“Patience,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her lower back before pressing the tip of your cock against her entrance.

Julie growls softly, but her breath hitches as you push inside, the tight heat of her pussy clamping around you. She’s wet and snug, her walls pulsing as you slide deeper, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing it right there.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you groan, gripping her hips tighter as you bottom out, your cock buried to the hilt.

Julie’s head drops forward, her hands fisting in the sheets. “Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Don’t hold back.”

Natty’s laugh draws your attention, and you glance up to see her spreading herself wider, her fingers teasing her folds as she watches. “Don’t let her boss you around too much,” she teases. “She likes it rough. Don’t you, Julie?”

Julie doesn’t respond with words, just a guttural moan as you pull back and thrust into her again, harder this time. Her ass jiggles with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Natty coos, her voice thick with arousal. She moves closer, her legs spreading even wider. “C’mere, Julie. You’ve got work to do.”

Julie doesn’t hesitate, leaning forward until her mouth is hovering over Natty’s dripping pussy. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive flesh, and Natty gasps, her hips bucking up toward Julie’s mouth.

“God, that’s good,” Natty moans, her fingers tangling in Julie’s hair.

The sight of Julie buried between Natty’s thighs, her ass raised high and rocking back against you, is enough to drive you insane. You grip her hips harder, your thrusts growing faster and rougher, each one making her moan louder into Natty’s pussy.

“Fuck, Julie,” you growl, your voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

She hums in response, the vibrations making Natty cry out, her legs trembling as she grinds against Julie’s face.

“Don’t stop,” Natty gasps, her eyes fluttering shut. “God, you’re both so good.”

Julie’s moans are muffled by Natty’s pussy, but the way she clenches around your cock with every thrust tells you she’s just as lost in the moment as you are. You lean over her, one hand sliding up her back, your fingers tangling in her hair as you fuck her harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the air.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, your chest heaving.

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her perch in the corner. “I mean, if you two could make it any louder, that’d be great. I don’t think the neighbors heard you yet.”

“Shut up, Belle,” Julie snarls, her voice muffled by Natty’s folds.

Natty lets out a breathless laugh, her head falling back as she grinds against Julie’s tongue. “She’s got a point. You two are animals.”

You ignore them, too focused on the way Julie’s pussy grips you, the way her ass bounces with every thrust, the way Natty’s moans grow louder as Julie devours her. It’s raw, messy, and perfect, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out.

You’re buried deep inside Julie, her tight, wet pussy squeezing you like a vice with every thrust. Her big ass bounces against your hips, and you can’t help the low growl that escapes your throat. She’s good—too good—but there’s something you can’t shake, something you need to see.

Leaning over her, your voice comes out rough, ragged. “Julie… twerk on my cock.”

Julie freezes for half a second, her breath hitching. Then, to your surprise, Natty bursts out laughing from her spot beside you, where she’s still sprawled on the bed, her fingers teasing her swollen clit.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Natty purrs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Twerking’s her specialty. Go on, Julie. Show him what you’ve got.”

Julie glances back over her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement. “You think you can handle it?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.

“Try me,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter.

She smirks, planting her palms firmly on the bed as she starts to move. Her hips roll first, slow and deliberate, before she begins to bounce, her ass clapping softly against your thighs. The sensation is unreal—her tight heat milking your cock as her ass jiggles in perfect rhythm, the wet sound of your connection filling the room.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter, your hands sliding down to grip her cheeks, spreading them wide as she works.

Natty props herself up on one elbow, watching with a wicked grin. “Told you. She’s got moves.”

Julie arches her back, her movements growing faster, more intense. She pushes back hard with every bounce, driving your cock deeper inside her, and the sight of her round, flawless ass slamming against you is enough to make your head spin.

“Like that?” she asks breathlessly, glancing back at you.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, raising one hand and bringing it down on her cheek with a sharp smack.

Julie moans, her hips jerking forward slightly before she slams back again, grinding herself against you. “Harder,” she demands, her voice dripping with lust.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hand comes down again, the slap echoing in the room, leaving a red imprint on her smooth skin. She gasps, pushing back harder, her pussy clenching around you.

“Jesus, Julie,” you growl, your nails digging into her flesh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

From the corner, Belle snickers, her voice lazy but amused. “Yeah, Julie. Work that dick. Milk him dry.”

Julie smirks, but her focus doesn’t waver. Her ass bounces faster, harder, the rhythm hypnotic, and you feel your control slipping as the pleasure builds in your gut, hot and insistent.

“Keep going,” you urge, your voice rough. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. If anything, she doubles down, her movements wild and relentless as she twerks on your cock, her pussy squeezing you tighter with every bounce. Your breaths come faster, your grip on her hips growing almost desperate as the pressure inside you reaches its breaking point.

“Gonna cum,” you gasp, your thrusts growing erratic as you match her pace.

“Do it,” Belle encourages, her tone teasing but firm. “Fill her up. That’s what she’s here for.”

Natty grins, her voice a purr. “Yeah, Julie wants it. Don’t you, baby?”

Julie moans in response, her movements frantic now, her pussy milking you with every thrust. “Fuck, yes,” she gasps. “Cum in me. Fill me up.”

Her words are your undoing. With one final thrust, you bury yourself as deep as you can go, your cock pulsing as you release inside her. The heat of your cum floods her, and she cries out, her body trembling as her own climax ripples through her.

You stay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both of you panting and shaking.

Julie collapses forward, her body trembling, chest heaving against the sheets. You slowly pull out, and the sight stops you in your tracks. Your cock slides free with a slick, wet sound, and thick ropes of your cum immediately start dripping from her swollen, glistening pussy, running down her thighs in sticky trails.

She groans softly, her legs shaking as she shifts to the side, collapsing onto her back. “Holy shit,” she mutters, tossing a glance at Natty. “You’re gonna love this.”

Natty grins, already on her knees beside you, her hands sliding over your chest. “Oh, I know I will.” She nudges Julie with her hip, her voice teasing. “Move over, Julie. My turn.”

Julie chuckles breathlessly but obliges, rolling to the side to give Natty space. Natty wastes no time, her hand already wrapping around your cock, stroking it slowly. You twitch in her grip, still sensitive from your release, but she doesn’t let up, her fingers firm and deliberate.

“You’re not done yet, big guy,” she murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your chest. “We’ve still got work to do.”

Belle snorts from her spot in the chair. “Poor guy looks like he’s already dead. You sure he can keep up?”

“Oh, he can keep up,” Natty replies, her voice full of confidence. She moves lower, her lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin, her hand never stopping its slow, steady strokes.

Julie props herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on you with a satisfied smirk. “If he can’t, we’ll make him.”

Natty chuckles, her tongue flicking out to tease one of your nipples. The sensation sends a jolt through you, and she grins against your skin. “See? He’s already waking up.”

Her other hand joins in, her nails lightly scraping down your stomach, and your cock twitches again, starting to harden in her grip. She hums in approval, her lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently as her hand works you. Slowly you lie down on the bed, pulling Natty with you. The new position allows you to enjoy the best of her touch comfortably.

Julie leans in from the side, her lips finding your neck. “Yeah, relax,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. “Let us take care of you.”

You exhale shakily, your hands resting on their hips as they move together, their lips and hands exploring every inch of you. Julie’s tongue traces the curve of your jaw, while Natty’s mouth moves lower, her kisses trailing down your chest to your stomach.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow.

Natty glances up at you, her grin wicked. “That’s it. Just let go.”

Her strokes grow firmer, her grip tightening around your cock as it hardens fully again, and she laughs softly. “There we go. Good boy.”

Julie smirks, her lips brushing against your ear. “Told you he’d be ready in no time.”

Natty’s hand slows, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head of your cock, smearing the bead of precum that’s already forming. “He’s perfect,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Belle sighs dramatically from the chair. “All right, Natty, quit hogging him. Let’s see you put that cock to good use.”

Natty laughs, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn. For now…” She straddles your hips, her wet pussy hovering just above your cock. “It’s my turn.”

You grip her hips instinctively, your body already craving her. “Bring it on,” you mutter, your voice rough with desire.

Natty grins, her hands resting on your chest as she positions herself, her eyes locked on yours. “Oh, I will,” she promises, her voice low and teasing. “You’d better keep up.”

She grips your cock, guiding it to her slick, swollen entrance, her wetness coating the head as she teases you with slow, deliberate movements. You groan, your hands tightening on her hips as the head of your cock pushes into her heat, her pussy stretching to take you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow. “You feel… so fucking good.”

She lets out a low, satisfied moan as she sinks all the way down, her thick, curvy body pressing against you. Her pussy grips you like a glove, tight and wet, and you can feel every pulse, every clench as she adjusts to your size. Her breasts bounce slightly with the movement, full and heavy, her nipples stiff and begging to be touched.

Your hands slide up her waist to cup them, marveling at their softness, and she grins down at you, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Like what you see, huh?”

“You’re perfect,” you rasp, your thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her. “Thick, juicy… fuck, Natty, you’re incredible.”

She laughs, low and teasing, her hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Careful, big guy. You keep talking like that, and I might actually start thinking you’d make a good husband.”

You chuckle breathlessly, gripping her hips as she rides you, her movements smooth and sensual. “Might not be wrong.”

Natty grins, leaning forward slightly, her breasts brushing against your chest as she moves. Her pussy slides up and down your cock with maddening precision, her pace slow enough to drive you crazy, but steady enough to keep you on the edge.

Your cock, still half-numb from your release with Julie, feels like it’s waking up all over again, the pleasure building slowly but intensely. The way her body moves, her hips rolling, her ass bouncing slightly with every thrust—it’s hypnotic, and you can’t look away.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmur, your hands trailing up her sides to cup her breasts again, squeezing gently.

Natty moans softly, her pace quickening just slightly. “Mmm, keep talking, sweetheart. I like to hear how much you adore me.”

The sight of her, riding you like she’s in control of the entire world, is almost too much to handle. Her thick thighs frame your hips, her juicy breasts sway with every movement, and her dark hair falls around her face in messy waves.

You glance to the side, catching Julie watching intently, her lips parted as she takes in the scene. “Julie,” you call out, your voice rough. “Kiss her.”

Julie’s eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate. She moves closer, kneeling on the bed beside you. Natty’s eyes flick to her, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Julie murmurs before leaning in.

Their lips meet in a soft, teasing kiss at first, their mouths moving slowly, testing, teasing. Then it deepens, their tongues tangling, and the sight makes your cock twitch inside Natty.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands tightening on her hips as she continues to ride you.

Natty moans into the kiss, her movements growing faster, her pussy squeezing you tighter. Julie’s hands slide up to cup Natty’s face, holding her close as their kiss becomes wetter, messier, their moans mingling in the air.

Your eyes flick to the corner of the room, and your breath catches at the sight of Belle. She’s leaning back in the chair, her dress hiked up around her hips, one hand pressed against her panties. Her fingers move in slow, lazy circles, teasing herself as she watches the three of you.

Her eyes meet yours, and she grins, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice low and breathy. “Just enjoying the show.”

The combination of Natty’s bouncing ass, her tight, wet pussy gripping you, the sight of her and Julie kissing hungrily, and Belle touching herself in the corner—it’s overwhelming. The pleasure builds rapidly, every nerve in your body on fire as Natty’s hips grind against you, her pussy gripping your cock with that maddening rhythm that has you teetering on the edge. Her thick, curvy body moving with an expertise that makes it impossible to think straight.

But as much as you love the sight of her riding you like this, there’s one thing you need even more.

“Turn around,” you growl, your hands sliding down to her thighs. “I want to see that fat ass while you ride me.”

Natty’s grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you like my ass, huh?”

“Love it,” you reply, your voice thick with need. “Now, turn around and show me.”

Natty bites her lip, sliding off you slowly, your cock glistening with her wetness as it slips free. She swings her leg over, turning around to face away from you. And when she lowers herself back down, guiding you into her dripping pussy, the sight is absolutely fucking perfect.

Natty's ass is a fucking spectacle, a fucking masterpiece that deserves to be worshipped. It's not just round and thick; it's fucking voluptuous, a perfect peach that jiggles and bounces with every damn movement. As she sinks down onto your cock, you can see her cheeks spreading, swallowing your shaft like it's fucking hungry for it. She glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling in messy waves around her flushed face.

“Better?” she asks, her voice teasing, as she starts to move her hips in slow, grinding circles.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist. “You’re fucking perfect, Natty.”

Natty laughs softly, her hips lifting and dropping in a slow, torturous rhythm that leaves you panting. Her pussy grips you like a vise, the wet sounds of her movements filling the room as she bounces on your cock.

“Look at you,” she purrs, glancing back again. “Losing your mind over my ass, huh?”

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your fingers digging into her hips. “Look at the way it fucking moves.”

She smirks, her pace quickening, her ass clapping against your thighs with every bounce. “Yeah? You like that? You like watching my fat ass swallow your cock?”

“Fucking love it,” you groan, your hips bucking up to meet her movements.

Julie moves in closer, leaning over your chest. Her lips find your neck first, soft and teasing, before trailing down to your chest. “Don’t forget about me,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.

Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you shudder, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your already overworked body. She grins against your skin, sucking gently before moving to the other side, her fingers tracing light patterns over your abs.

“You’re lucky we’re letting you take your time,” she teases, her lips brushing against your ear. “Natty could’ve made you cum five minutes ago if she really wanted to.”

Natty laughs, throwing her head back as she rides you harder, her movements wild and relentless now. “He’s just trying to keep up, Julie. Don’t be too hard on him.”

You growl, your grip on Natty’s hips tightening as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements with desperate intensity. The sight of her ass bouncing against you, the wet sounds of her pussy taking you so deep, Julie’s lips on your chest—it’s all too much, but you don’t want it to end.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you groan, your voice ragged. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”

“Good,” Natty shoots back, her voice breathless. “That’s the idea.”

Julie laughs softly, her lips brushing against your neck. “She’s got you right where she wants you.”

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her spot in the armchair, the voice low and soft, almost a moan, the fingers rubbing in a steady rhythm under her panties. “Pretty sure she’s got all of us right where she wants us. Keep going, Nat. You’re killing it.”

Natty’s pace doesn’t falter, her ass slamming down on your cock with every thrust, her pussy clenching around you like she’s determined to drain you dry. The pleasure is overwhelming, building in waves that threaten to pull you under, but you hold on, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

“Come on,” Natty urges, glancing back at you again. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy. Fucking give it to me.”

Natty’s pace is relentless, her thick ass bouncing against your thighs with obscene, wet smacks as her pussy milks you. The sight of her in reverse cowgirl, riding your cock like she’s possessed, makes your chest tighten and your breath come in ragged gasps. Every bounce sends another jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, the heat in your gut coiling tighter, threatening to snap.

Julie is right on top of you, her lips on your neck, her tongue dragging along the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and tease your nipples. Each twist and flick sends electric shocks through your body, making your cock twitch inside Natty’s impossibly tight, soaking pussy.

Natty throws her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she grinds her hips in circles, her ass slamming against you with each motion. “Come on,” she growls, glancing over her shoulder at you, her eyes wild with lust. “Pump your cum inside this elf whore's pussy. Fucking fill me up.”

You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft, luscious flesh as you thrust up into her, meeting her every movement. The way her pussy grips you, squeezing and pulling like it’s desperate for your cum, drives you to the edge.

“You want me to fill you?” you growl, your voice thick and rough.

“Fuck yes,” Natty moans, slamming herself down on your cock with even more force. “I want all of it. Every fucking drop. Fill me so full I’ll feel it for days.”

Her words send a shiver through you, and you grip her even tighter, pulling her down hard onto your cock. “Say it,” you demand, your voice harsh. “Tell me you want me to breed you.”

Natty moans louder, her head falling forward as she picks up the pace, her hips moving with a wild urgency. “I want it,” she cries out, her voice high and desperate. “Fuck, I want it so bad. Breed me, baby. Please! Fill me with your fucking cum! Make me yours.”

Julie bites your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as her fingers tease your nipples harder. “Listen to her,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with lust. “She’s fucking crazy for you.”

Belle’s laugh echoes from the corner, her voice breathy. “You better not disappoint her, big guy. She’s counting on you.”

Natty’s movements become frantic, her pussy gripping you like a vise as she slams herself down on your cock over and over again. “Come on,” she begs, her voice cracking with need. “I need it. I need you to fucking cum inside me. Fill me up. Breed me like a fucking slut.”

You’re shaking now, your entire body taut as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “Fuck, Natty,” you groan, your hips jerking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes!” Natty screams, her hands gripping her thighs as she rides you harder, her movements wild and uncoordinated. “Do it! Cum in me! Breed me, you fucking stud!”

The words tip you over the edge, and with a guttural moan, you thrust up into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go. Your cock pulses, your seed spilling into her in hot, thick waves, and Natty loses it.

Her entire body shakes as she cums, her pussy clamping down on your cock, milking you for every last drop. “Fuck, yes!” she screams, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at her bouncing breasts as her orgasm rips through her.

Julie watches with wide eyes, her lips parted in awe, while Belle groans softly, her hand moving faster under her panties. “Goddamn,” Belle mutters. “That’s fucking hot.”

Natty doesn’t stop. Even as you cum inside her, she keeps riding you, her hips slamming down with an almost violent force, drawing out every ounce of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Take it,” you groan, your voice raw. “Take every fucking drop.”

“Fuck, yes,” Natty moans, her body trembling as her pussy clenches around you, her own release leaving her dripping all over your cock. “I can feel it. So deep. Mmm, so fucking good.”

Finally, she collapses forward onto the bed, her body trembling, your cum leaking from her stuffed pussy as she pants heavily, her face flushed and satisfied. Julie grins, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“You’re a fucking machine,” she whispers against your lips.

Belle laughs, her voice hoarse. “Machine? More like a damn Christmas miracle.”

—

The room smells like sex and sweat, heavy and warm, and you’re sprawled across the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Natty and Julie are curled up on either side of you, their naked bodies pressed against yours like they’ve been there forever. Natty’s thick curves fit snugly against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, while Julie’s toned frame stretches lazily, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your chest.

In the corner, Belle is by the mirror, her dress half off as she scrubs at her skin with a damp washcloth, muttering under her breath about soot and chimneys.

“Should’ve come through the damn door,” she grumbles, glaring at the streaks of black still clinging to her thighs.

“You think?” Julie calls over, her tone dry.

Belle shoots her a look through the mirror but doesn’t respond, focusing instead on her task.

You exhale, finally finding your voice. “Okay, I gotta ask. What’s life like for you guys? The whole elf thing. Is it like a Christmas movie, or is that just marketing bullshit?”

Natty snorts, her fingers trailing lazily down your stomach. “Marketing bullshit. Total propaganda. Santa’s a businessman; he’s gotta sell the magic.”

Julie props herself up on one elbow, smirking. “Don’t get us wrong, it’s not all bad. But it’s not sugar plums and caroling 24/7, either.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing between them. “So, what’s it actually like?”

Natty hums thoughtfully, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Busy as hell, for starters. Prep for Christmas is a year-round thing. You think it's just one day, but getting all those gifts ready for billions of kids? It's insane. And the logistics? Nightmare. Planning routes, checking lists twice, dealing with weather issues, and making sure every kid gets exactly what they want. It’s a year-round hustle.”

Julie nods. “We’ve got divisions for everything: toys, logistics, reindeer care, candy production… Don’t even get me started on the gingerbread sector. Those guys are intense.”

Natty chuckles, nudging you with her hip. “And you know that shit about elves being tiny? Total lie. We’re all like this—” she gestures to her body, curves and all, “—which makes squeezing into some of those old workshops a pain in the ass.”

Belle pipes up from the mirror, still scrubbing at a stubborn patch of ash on her shoulder. “And don’t forget the quotas. Everything’s gotta be done yesterday. Santa’s nice and all, but he’s also a hardass when it comes to deadlines.”

You blink, trying to picture Santa as a stern boss, pacing around with a clipboard and barking orders. “So, he’s not the jolly guy in the red suit?”

Julie laughs. “Oh, he is. But don’t let the ‘ho-ho-ho’ fool you. He runs a tight ship. You miss a deadline, and you’re stuck in snow-shoveling duty for a week.”

“Snow-shoveling duty?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

Natty groans dramatically. “The worst. Endless piles of snow, freezing your ass off while the rest of the team’s inside drinking hot cocoa. It’s brutal.”

Belle, finally satisfied with her cleanup, turns from the mirror, her dress hanging off her shoulders as she walks over to the bed. “And don’t even get me started on reindeer maintenance,” she says, flopping into the armchair nearby. “Those things are divas. You’d think they’d be grateful for the magical oats, but no—Prancer once kicked me because the oats weren’t warm enough.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” you say, grinning.

“It’s not all bad,” Natty says, shrugging. “We’ve got a pretty tight-knit community. Lots of parties, good food, and the sex—” she winks at you, “—is legendary.”

Julie smirks. “And it’s not like we don’t have perks. Free housing, endless candy canes, and when Santa’s in a good mood, he throws these massive celebrations. Think Mardi Gras, but with more glitter.”

Belle laughs. “And more eggnog. So much eggnog.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “I had no idea the North Pole was this wild. I always pictured it… cleaner. Quieter.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Stick around, and maybe we’ll take you there sometime. Show you the real magic.”

Julie hums, her fingers sliding lower on your chest. “But for now, you’re stuck with us. And I’m not hearing any complaints.”

Belle smirks, settling into her chair and crossing her legs. “Not a bad deal, huh?”

You glance around the room—Natty’s warm body pressed against you, Julie’s teasing fingers, Belle’s playful grin—and you can’t help but smile. “Not bad at all.”

The warmth of Julie and Natty pressed against you, their soft bodies against your sides, has you stirring again. It doesn’t take much; their scent, their touch, the memory of the last couple of minutes—it all combines into a haze of arousal that has your cock stiffening between your legs. You glance down, half-laughing at yourself, already semi-hard just from lying there with them.

Natty notices first, her hand brushing lightly over your stomach before trailing lower. She grins when she feels the slight twitch of your cock. “Look who’s ready for round three,” she teases, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

Julie hums, her fingers joining Natty’s, stroking your chest lightly. “And here I thought we wore him out.”

You chuckle, your breath catching slightly as they touch you. “I guess you underestimated me.”

But your attention shifts to Belle, still perched on the armchair. She’s been quiet, watching, her cheeks flushed pink. “Belle,” you say softly, holding out a hand. “Come here.”

Belle hesitates, glancing between you and the other two before standing. As she approaches, the soft light of the room finally reveals her fully; she’s petite, with small, perky breasts that barely contain their youthful firmness. Her tummy looks soft to the touch, with a gentle curve that accentuates her femininity. It's not flat or toned but deliciously smooth, and only adds to her overall cuteness, making her appear even more delicate and enticing. Her tight, rounded ass complements her figure perfectly, making your cock twitch with anticipation.

She notices you staring and crosses her arms, pretending to be annoyed. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, and she huffs, climbing onto the bed awkwardly. Julie and Natty make room for her, shifting to the sides, and she kneels between them, looking almost shy.

“I’m not as… experienced as them,” Belle says, her voice quieter than usual.

Natty snickers, leaning against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit. That’s why you stayed in the armchair watching, isn’t it? You were scared.”

“I was not scared!” Belle snaps, glaring at her.

“Sure,” Natty says with a wink.

You reach up, cupping Belle’s cheek gently, and her glare softens as her eyes meet yours. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re perfect. No need to be shy.”

Her lips part slightly, and you lean in, brushing a soft kiss against her mouth. She gasps softly, her body relaxing as she melts into you, her hands resting on your chest as the kiss deepens.

Natty chuckles behind her, and a second later, her hands slide around Belle’s sides, cupping her small breasts. Belle pulls back from the kiss, gasping as Natty’s fingers pinch and tease her nipples. “See?” Natty says with a grin. “I’ll help you out.”

Julie moves closer, her lips brushing against your neck before trailing down to your chest, her fingers dancing over your abs. “Don’t forget about us,” she murmurs, her tongue flicking over one of your nipples, making you shudder.

You look at the three of them—Belle’s small, trembling frame, Natty’s mischievous grin as she teases Belle’s breasts, Julie’s soft lips trailing down your body—and you can’t help but speak. “You’re all incredible,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration. “The most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”

Julie hums against your chest, her lips curving into a smile. “We’d better be. We’re yours now, after all.”

Natty nods, her hands still on Belle’s breasts. “Once we’re all pregnant, you’re stuck with us. Forever.”

You chuckle softly, your hand sliding between Belle’s thighs, cupping her wet heat. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you murmur, your fingers sliding against her slick folds. “Three perfect girls all to myself? I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

Belle moans softly, her hips jerking against your hand. “You better take good care of us,” she says, her voice breathless.

“I will,” you promise, your fingers brushing against her clit, making her gasp. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.”

Natty grins, her hands sliding down Belle’s sides. “We’ll hold you to that.”

You shift, lying flat on the bed, your hands on Belle’s hips. “Come here,” you say, your voice rough with need. “I want to taste you.”

Belle hesitates for only a moment before nodding, her cheeks still flushed as she straddles your face. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of your head, and she lowers herself slowly, her pink, glistening pussy hovering just above your lips.

You grip her hips, pulling her down, and she gasps as your tongue slides against her folds. She’s sweet and soft, her taste driving you wild as you lick and suck, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle moans, her hands gripping the headboard as her hips start to rock against your face.

Julie wastes no time, sliding down the bed to take your cock in her hand. She strokes you slowly at first, her eyes glinting with anticipation, before leaning in to wrap her lips around the head, sucking gently.

Natty grins, positioning herself behind Julie. “Let me help,” she says, her hands spreading Julie’s thighs as her tongue dips between them, licking along Julie’s folds.

The sensation of Belle grinding on your face, Julie’s warm mouth on your cock, and the sound of Natty’s tongue working between Julie’s legs is almost overwhelming. You groan into Belle’s pussy, your hands tightening on her hips as you pull her closer, devouring her like you can’t get enough.

Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling above you. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her hips moving faster. “You’re so… fucking good at this.”

Julie hums around your cock, her tongue swirling around the head as she takes you deeper. Natty’s muffled moans from behind her only add to the intensity, and you can feel yourself growing harder with every passing second.

Belle’s soft thighs frame your face as she rides your tongue, her sweet, pink pussy dripping with arousal as you devour her. Your hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as you flick your tongue over her clit, sucking it gently before dipping back into her folds. Every little gasp and moan she makes sends a jolt of satisfaction through you, urging you to go harder, deeper.

Above you, Belle’s voice trembles. “Oh, fuck… Oh, God, yes… That’s so fucking good.” Her fingers grip the headboard, her hips moving erratically as she chases her pleasure. “I can’t—oh, my fucking God—”

Meanwhile, Julie has taken your cock in her mouth, her lips stretched around your length as she works you with a fervor that leaves you trembling. She alternates between slow, deliberate bobs and deep, greedy sucks that have your cock twitching in her throat. Her tongue swirls around the head each time she pulls back, lapping at the precum that beads there before taking you deep again, her nose brushing against your pelvis.

Julie moans softly around your cock, her throat vibrating against you as she feels Natty’s hands spreading her ass cheeks from behind. “Natty—what are you—”

Her words cut off into a sharp cry as Natty’s tongue presses against her asshole, teasing the tight ring of muscle with slow, wet strokes. Julie’s body jerks, and her hips push back involuntarily as Natty’s tongue slips inside, swirling and licking with expert precision.

“Fuck,” Julie gasps, pulling off your cock long enough to catch her breath. Her hand strokes you in quick, firm movements as she groans, her voice trembling. “Natty, you’re such a—oh, fuck—such a filthy bitch.”

Natty grins against her, her tongue plunging deeper as her hands knead Julie’s ass. “Damn right,” she murmurs, her voice muffled. “Now keep sucking him, Julie. I’m just getting started back here.”

Julie shivers but obeys, taking your cock back into her mouth with a loud, wet slurp. She’s even more eager now, her lips moving faster, her hand stroking the base in time with her bobs. The combined sensations of her warm, slick mouth and Belle’s pussy grinding on your tongue make your head spin, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.

Belle’s voice grows higher, more desperate, as her movements become frantic. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”

You grip her hips tighter, pulling her down hard against your mouth as your tongue flicks over her clit again and again. Her thighs tremble around your head, and she cries out, her body shaking as her orgasm crashes over her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Belle screams, her hips grinding against your face as you lick her through her climax, her juices dripping down your chin.

Julie moans around your cock, her mouth moving faster as Natty’s tongue works deeper into her ass, licking and teasing with an intensity that leaves her trembling. She pulls back with a gasp, her hand still stroking you as she throws her head back, her voice breaking. “Fuck, Natty, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Natty chuckles, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as her tongue plunges even deeper, her wet, messy sounds mingling with the obscene noises of Julie’s blowjob. “Do it,” Natty growls. “Cum for us, Julie. Let him hear how good it feels.”

Julie’s moans grow louder, her hand tightening around your cock as she strokes you harder, her other hand gripping the sheets. Her body shakes, her voice rising into a scream as her orgasm hits, her thighs clenching around Natty’s face.

“Fuck!” Julie cries, her body jerking as she cums, her hand squeezing your cock as she moans uncontrollably.

Belle slowly climbs off you, her thighs trembling slightly as she kneels beside you on the bed, her flushed face framed by messy blonde hair. She’s still catching her breath, her lips parted, her chest heaving, but the smile she gives you is soft, almost shy.

“You’re fucking amazing,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No wonder they can’t get enough of you.”

You grin, still tasting her juices on your lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, and her eyes dart down to your cock—still rock-hard and glistening with Julie’s spit. She bites her lip, her gaze darkening with anticipation.

“You ready for more?” you ask, sitting up slightly.

Belle nods quickly. “Yeah.”

You guide her onto her back, spreading her legs gently as she lies beneath you. Her small, cute frame is stretched out on the bed, her soft tummy rising and falling with her breaths, her wet, pink pussy practically begging for you. You position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock brushing against her entrance.

Julie leans back on the bed beside you, her lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Better not scare her off, big guy. She’s still new to all this.”

Belle glares at her but doesn’t respond, her attention fixed entirely on you as you lean over her. Your hands rest on her hips, your cock pressing more firmly against her slick folds, and she shivers.

But before you can push inside, Natty’s voice cuts through the moment. “Wait!”

You both glance up to see her hopping off the bed, her naked body moving with purpose as she heads toward the door.

“Where the hell are you going?” Julie calls after her, annoyed.

Natty doesn’t stop, her voice trailing back. “I saw something in the kitchen. Be right back!”

The three of you exchange confused looks, but you shrug, your attention shifting back to Belle. “Don’t worry about her,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her softly.

Belle sighs into the kiss, her hands sliding up to rest on your shoulders as you position yourself again. But just as you’re about to push inside, Natty bursts back into the room, climbing onto the bed with something in her hand.

“I’m back!” she announces triumphantly, holding up a candy cane like it’s a trophy.

Julie’s eyes narrow, immediately suspicious. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”

Natty grins wickedly, crawling onto the bed and motioning for Julie to lie down. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”

Julie raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back and spreading her legs slightly. “You’re such a dirty whore,” she mutters, though her tone is more amused than annoyed.

Natty winks. “Takes one to know one.”

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to wet the candy cane before sliding it into her mouth, sucking it slowly. The sight is obscene—her lips wrapped around the striped treat, her tongue swirling over it like she’s giving it the blowjob of its life. When she pulls it out, it’s glistening, coated in her spit.

Belle watches the scene with wide eyes, her breath hitching. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her hands clutching the sheets.

Natty moves between Julie’s legs, guiding the candy cane to her ass. She circles the tight ring of muscle slowly, teasing it, and Julie’s body tenses.

“Relax,” Natty purrs, her other hand stroking Julie’s thigh. “You’re gonna love this.”

Julie groans, her head falling back. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“Shut up and enjoy it,” Natty replies, pushing the candy cane in slowly.

Julie gasps as it slides inside, her body arching slightly. “Fuck,” she moans, her hands gripping the sheets.

The sight is enough to drive Belle over the edge. She looks up at you, her eyes blazing with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I can’t wait anymore. Fuck me.”

You’re no different. Watching Natty work the candy cane into Julie’s ass, hearing Julie’s breathless moans, and seeing Belle’s flushed, needy face beneath you—it’s all too much. You position yourself again, gripping Belle’s hips as you push the head of your cock into her wet, tight pussy.

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your arms as you slide deeper, her walls clenching around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head falling back. “Oh—god—you’re so big.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you bottom out, buried to the hilt.

Natty glances up from Julie, a wicked grin on her face. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”

Julie moans louder as Natty twists the candy cane slightly, her hips bucking. “Shut up, Natty,” she gasps. “Keep going.”

You focus on Belle, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, her tight heat wrapping around you perfectly. Her pussy is tight and wet, gripping your cock with every thrust as you pick up speed, your hips slamming into her with increasing intensity. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, her heels digging into your back as if she’s trying to keep you buried as deep as possible.

“Deeper,” she gasps, her voice trembling, raw with need. “Please, fuck me deeper.”

You oblige, driving into her harder, your cock stretching her, filling her completely. Her small body trembles beneath you, her nails clawing at your back as her head tilts back, exposing her neck. You lean forward, your lips brushing against her slick, salty skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you kiss her, your breaths hot and uneven.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moans, her hands clutching at you, holding you close as your bodies press together, sweat and heat mingling as you fuck her. “I can’t… Oh, god… You’re so deep,” she cries, her voice high and desperate.

By your side, Julie’s moans mix with Belle’s as Natty continues to work the candy cane into her ass. Julie’s legs are spread wide, her fingers rubbing her clit in frantic circles as she rocks her hips against the sensation, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

“Fuck, this is so dirty,” Julie groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips roll against Natty’s hand. “I’ve never… Fuck… No one’s ever done this to me before.”

Natty smirks, twisting the candy cane slightly, earning a loud, shaky moan from Julie. “No one’s ever fucked you like this because no one’s as filthy as us,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement.

Julie lets out a breathless laugh, her fingers moving faster on her clit. “Fuck, you’re right… It’s so fucking good.”

Belle’s voice pulls your attention back to her, her legs tightening around you as you thrust into her, your cock pounding her sweet, slick pussy. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please don’t stop.”

You press your forehead against hers, your bodies glued together as you move, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Her small frame seems to mold against you, her soft tummy pressing into your abs, her breasts brushing against your chest with every movement.

“I won’t stop,” you promise, your voice rough, almost a growl. “You feel too fucking good.”

Belle’s moans are raw, unfiltered, her arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders as she buries her face in your neck. “Oh, god,” she cries. “I can feel you everywhere. You’re so fucking deep.”

Julie watches you both, her lips parted, her hand pausing briefly as she takes in the scene. “Fuck,” she mutters, her voice husky. “Look at you two. That’s so fucking hot.”

Natty chuckles, leaning closer to Julie, her hand still working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “You think that’s hot? Look at her face. She’s fucking gone.”

Julie laughs breathlessly, her fingers resuming their rhythm on her clit. “Belle, you look like he’s fucking you into another dimension.”

Belle doesn’t respond with words, only a loud, trembling moan as she clutches you tighter, her pussy clenching around your cock like it never wants to let you go.

The intensity builds with every thrust, every moan, every word. You’re driving into Belle with a passion that feels primal, raw, unstoppable, and she takes it all, her body arching, trembling, meeting your movements with frantic need.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your lips finding her neck again. “So fucking perfect.”

Belle’s only response is a choked, desperate cry, her nails digging into your back as she rides the overwhelming sensations.

Julie moans louder behind you, her voice thick with pleasure. “Keep going, big guy,” she urges, her breath hitching. “Fucking destroy her. She’s loving it.”

Natty laughs, her fingers teasing Julie’s clit now as she continues working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “We’re all loving it,” she says, her voice low and sultry.

The heat in the room is almost suffocating, bodies glistening with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and arousal. Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling against you as her nails rake your back, her pussy tightening around your cock with every thrust. You know you’re close, dangerously close, but you’re not done with her yet.

With a groan, you slide your hands under Belle’s ass and lift her, your cock slipping free for a moment as you shift positions. “Come here,” you murmur, your voice rough and commanding.

Her wide eyes meet yours, her cheeks flushed, and she lets out a shaky gasp as you pull her up into a kneeling position, your bodies pressed together as you sit back on your heels. She straddles you instinctively, her legs wrapping around your waist as you guide her down onto your cock again, the head slipping inside her slick, tight pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle cries, her arms wrapping around your neck as she sinks down completely, your cock filling her to the hilt.

You groan, your hands gripping her hips as you press your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling. The intimacy of the position is electric—her small, soft body pressed against yours, her flushed skin against your chest, her pussy gripping you like it was made for you.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

Her voice trembles, her fingers digging into your shoulders. “You’re so deep,” she moans, her hips rocking against you. “I can feel you in my stomach.”

Natty shifts, the air thick with the sound of her own ragged breathing as she pulls the candy cane free from Julie’s slick, stretched ass. Without pause, she rolls to her side, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she closes the distance between them. Her thigh slides over Julie’s, skin sticky with the mingling heat of their bodies. Her hips press forward until her wet, swollen pussy meets Julie's in a sticky, urgent clash. The friction sparks a shudder through both of them as she adjusts, their thighs tangling, bodies grinding.

"Alright, give me that sweet pussy, baby.” The sight alone makes your cock twitch inside Belle, and you can’t help but groan.

“Fuck,” Julie mutters, her voice thick with arousal as Natty’s movements create delicious friction. “You really are a dirty whore, Natty.”

Natty grins, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds against her, their slick folds sliding together with obscene wet sounds. “Oh, are you surprised, baby?” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.

Belle gasps, her hips moving faster as she rides you, her small body trembling in your arms. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice desperate. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with raw, passionate intensity. “I’m not stopping,” you growl, your lips finding her neck. “I won't stop until I cum inside that tight little pussy.”

Julie lets out a sharp cry as Natty’s movements grow rougher, her hips bucking against her. “Fuck, Natty,” she moans, her fingers sliding down to rub her clit. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

Natty laughs breathlessly, her body grinding harder against Julie’s. “You're not bad yourself.”

Julie’s only response is a loud, trembling moan, her back arching as the pleasure overwhelms her.

You glance between them, the sight of their scissoring bodies pushing you to the brink. Natty’s thick thighs flex with every movement, her hips grinding in perfect rhythm against Julie’s, while Julie’s fingers move frantically between them, her cries of pleasure filling the room.

Belle’s moans pull your attention back to her, and you grip her tighter, your cock plunging into her with deep, deliberate thrusts. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough with need. “All of you. You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours,” Belle gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. “Fuck, I’m yours. Just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Natty groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her body moves against Julie’s, her voice dripping with lust. “This is fucking perfect,” she moans. “Keep going. All of us, together.”

The room is a mess of sounds—moans, gasps, the wet slap of skin against skin—and the heat builds higher, the tension coiling tighter with every second, the pleasure driving you all further, the desire to push each other over the edge growing stronger with every movement.

Belle’s trembling body rocks against yours, her pussy squeezing your cock with desperate, wet heat. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your cock throbbing inside her as her soft moans and whispered pleas echo in your ears. The heat between all of you is unbearable, the air heavy with sweat, arousal, and the raw, primal need that none of you can contain any longer.

You grip Belle’s hips tightly, thrusting up into her as she rides you, her small frame pressing against your chest, her legs wrapped around your waist. “Fuck, Belle,” you groan, your voice ragged. “I’m so close.”

Natty’s voice cuts through the haze, her tone teasing and full of lust. “Oh, yes,” she purrs, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds harder against her. “That’s what I like to hear. Come on, big guy, she’s the last one. Fill her up. Make her yours forever.”

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself harder against you. Her lips are inches from yours, her breath mingling with yours as she stares into your eyes, her gaze filled with desperation and raw need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Please, make me yours. Breed me. I want to carry your baby.”

Her words send a shiver through your entire body, awakening something deep and primal inside you. Your hips buck up harder, your cock plunging deeper into her, and Belle cries out, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she clings to you.

Natty’s grin widens, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “Oh, she’s begging for it now. Look at her, desperate for you to knock her up.”

Julie moans louder, her fingers moving frantically against her clit as her hips buck against Natty’s. “Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling back. “He’s going to make her pregnant, and I can’t… Oh—god—I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

The symphony of moans, cries, and wet sounds grows louder, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo. Julie and Natty’s bodies grind together, slick and desperate, their movements wild and erratic as they chase their pleasure.

Belle’s eyes lock onto yours, her lips trembling as she whispers again. “Please… Please cum in me. Make me pregnant. Make me yours forever.”

Her words are your undoing.

With a guttural groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her, your cock pulsing as your release hits. Hot, thick streams of cum spill into her, and Belle screams, her body shaking against yours as she feels you fill her.

“Fuck!” you growl, your arms wrapping around her tightly, your bodies glued together as you pump her full, your hips jerking with each spurt.

The sensation drives Julie over the edge, her back arching as she screams, her fingers pressing hard against her clit. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her body jerking violently as her release hits, squirting all over the bed, her juices splashing against Natty’s thighs.

Natty gasps, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as the wetness spreads between them. “Goddamn,” she mutters, her voice thick with lust. “You’re a fucking mess, Julie.”

Belle clings to you, her breathing ragged, her body trembling as she feels the heat of your cum deep inside her. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathless. “Thank you, thank you…”

You hold her tightly, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching inside her as you press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her skin. “All of you. Forever.”

Julie collapses against the bed, her chest heaving as she laughs breathlessly. “Forever, huh? You’d better be ready to keep that promise.”

Natty chuckles, leaning over to kiss Belle’s cheek. “He’ll keep it. He’s got no choice now.”

The room falls into a warm, heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint hum of satisfaction that lingers in the air.

You look down at Belle, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and adoration. You can't resist the urge to seal this moment with a hot, passionate kiss. You lean in, your lips meeting hers in a fierce, claiming embrace. Your tongue delves into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, feeling her soft moans vibrate against your lips. Her body melts into yours, her arms wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back with equal fervor.

As you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against Belle's, your eyes locked onto hers, reaffirming your claim. "Forever," you whisper, and she nods, a small, content smile playing on her lips.

—

You wake up, but your consciousness seems to have stayed behind, trapped in some deep corner of your brain. Every muscle in your body aches, and your cock feels like it’s been through a marathon—probably because it has. The memories of last night flood back in vivid, explicit detail, and you groan, rolling over in bed.

But… the bed feels empty.

Your eyes snap open, and you’re greeted by nothing but rumpled sheets and an eerie quiet. No Natty. No Julie. No Belle.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “It was a fucking dream, wasn’t it?”

It’s not impossible.

Hell, it wouldn’t even be surprising. You’ve been alone for so long it’s no wonder your brain decided to gift you some kind of depraved Christmas fever dream. But damn, it felt real. The ache in your hips, the dull burn in your back—your body isn’t lying about how thoroughly you were wrecked.

You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. “Maybe I’ve finally lost it,” you mutter to yourself. “Gone full-on crazy lonely dude. Great.”

Still, the smell of something cooking wafts up from downstairs, and your stomach growls. Dream or not, food sounds like the next logical step. You throw on some sweatpants and shuffle toward the stairs, your feet heavy on the creaking wood.

When you reach the bottom and turn into the kitchen, the sight that greets you makes you stop dead in your tracks.

They’re there.

Julie is in the living room, rearranging the pictures on your walls like she owns the place. Her sleek black hair is tied back, and she’s wearing one of your button-up shirts—too big for her but just short enough to make you gulp.

Natty's in the kitchen, humming to herself as she flips pancakes on the stove, her curves accentuated by the apron that barely covers her, tied loosely around her waist. It's the only thing she's wearing, as a matter of fact.

And Belle? She’s exactly where you’d expect her to be: sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by crumbs, shoving another bite of toast into her mouth. She is wearing one of your shirts. It's massive on her, but she looks so cute and cozy. Her blonde hair is a fluffy cloud of curls, falling haphazardly around her face. It's the most adorable thing ever.

They all turn to you at once, as if on cue.

“Morning, big guy,” Julie says casually, holding up a framed picture of you and your old dog. “You know this was crooked, right?”

“Good morning!” Natty chimes, flashing you a bright smile before flipping another pancake. “I hope you like breakfast. We kind of raided your kitchen.”

Belle waves with her toast, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Mmrphning,” she mumbles, crumbs tumbling onto the table.

You just stand there, staring at them, your brain short-circuiting. “You’re… real,” you say finally.

Julie smirks, setting the frame back on the wall. “Of course we’re real. What, you think you hallucinated all that?”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” Natty quips, her tone playful. “Last night was pretty intense. Honestly, I’m impressed he’s still standing.”

Belle swallows her mouthful of toast and grins. “You do look like you got hit by a reindeer or two.”

You blink, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I… I thought I dreamed it. I woke up, and you weren’t—”

“—in your bed?” Julie finishes, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah, we figured you’d want to sleep in. You earned it.”

Natty plates a stack of pancakes and sets them on the table, her grin widening. “Plus, you looked so cute passed out like that. We didn’t want to wake you.”

Belle grabs a pancake with her bare hands, ignoring the fork sitting right in front of her. “So, are you gonna join us, or are you just gonna stand there gawking?”

You snap out of your daze, shuffling to the table and collapsing into a chair. “This is insane,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “You’re real. You’re actually real.”

“Yeah, we established that,” Julie says, sitting down across from you with a cup of coffee. “Now eat. Natty went all domestic goddess for you.”

Natty grins, sliding into the seat next to you and piling your plate high with pancakes. “Don’t get used to it,” she teases. “Breakfast is the only thing I know how to make.”

Belle smirks, her mouth full again. “She’s not kidding. I saw her almost burn water once.”

Natty glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I Eat Cereal with a Fork.’”

You chuckle despite yourself, cutting into your pancakes. “So, this is my life now, huh? Three elves living in my house, eating my food, rearranging my furniture.”

Julie shrugs, sipping her coffee. “Pretty much. We’re pregnant with your babies, remember? You’re stuck with us now.”

Natty leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “Admit it. You love it.”

You glance around the table at the three of them—the sly smirk on Julie’s lips, the playful sparkle in Natty’s eyes, Belle’s adorable, crumb-covered grin—and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I really do.”

The pancakes are incredible, fluffy and sweet, though the company is sweeter. You shovel another bite into your mouth, glancing between the three of them as they eat—or, in Belle’s case, inhale—at the table. It feels surreal, the warmth of their presence filling the space that, until now, had always felt too empty.

But then Julie sets her coffee down with a soft clink and fixes you with a look that’s somewhere between regretful and serious. “Look, we need to talk,” she says. "There's something you need to know.”

Your stomach flips. “That sounds ominous.”

Natty smirks, nudging your thigh under the table. “Relax. We’re not breaking up with you or anything.”

Belle, mid-bite, chimes in with her mouth full. “We’re pregnant, remember? Well, probably pregnant. Anyway, you're our man now.”

You laugh nervously, but Julie doesn’t budge, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about what happens next. The logistics.”

“Logistics?” you echo, frowning. “What logistics? I thought we just… lived happily ever after or something.”

Julie snorts, crossing her arms. “You think the magic world works like a rom-com? Cute. No, there’s rules. Bureaucracies. Red tape thicker than Santa’s thighs after cookie season.”

Belle raises a hand, still chewing. “Which is always, by the way.”

“Okay, back up,” you say, setting your fork down. “What rules? What are we talking about here?”

Natty sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s complicated. We’re technically under North Pole jurisdiction, which means we can’t just pack up and move here full-time. There’s laws against it. Something about maintaining magical secrecy or whatever.”

“Plus,” Julie adds, “having a half-human, half-elf baby is already bending the rules. Some of the North Pole council isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

You blink. “Wait, what? The council knows?”

Belle grins, finally swallowing her mouthful. “Of course they do. They know everything. They’ve got this creepy snow globe that shows them all the important stuff. Like Santa’s version of the NSA. We're in trouble now, but it's for a good reason.”

“That’s terrifying,” you mutter.

“It’s efficient,” Julie counters.

“But what does that mean for us?” you ask, glancing between them. “Are you saying you’re just going to leave?”

Julie hesitates, glancing at Natty, who takes over. “We’re not leaving you. But we can’t stay full-time, either. For now, we’ll have to visit. Weekends, holidays, that kind of thing.”

“That’s… not what I was expecting.”

“Hey,” Natty says softly, reaching for your hand. “It’s not forever. Once the babies are born, we’ll have more leverage. Interracial babies in the magical world are rare, and they’re considered kind of… important.”

“Important how?”

Belle pipes up. “Well, they’re supposed to be, like, bridges between worlds or whatever. Diplomatic symbols of unity. It’s a whole thing.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Which is ironic, considering how much the council hates dealing with them.”

Natty nods. “Yeah, but it works in our favor. They can’t exactly ignore us when the kids come along. We’ll push for a reassignment so we can all live together.”

“Reassignment?” you ask, feeling like you’re still two steps behind.

Julie leans forward, her tone all business. “Basically, we’d petition for you to come live at the North Pole. It’s rare, but it happens. Usually for special cases, like this one.”

“You’d really want me to come with you?” you ask, your voice soft.

Natty grins. “Duh. You think we’d go through all this just to ditch you?”

Belle nods vigorously. “We’re a package deal now. Besides, you’d love it at the North Pole. Endless hot cocoa, magical reindeer, zero commute time—it’s awesome.”

Julie smirks. “And cold as hell. Better invest in thermal underwear.”

You laugh despite yourself, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “So, what happens until then?”

Natty squeezes your hand. “We’ll make it work. We’re not going anywhere, not really. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even get you on the Nice List permanently.”

Belle snickers. “That’s a stretch.”

Julie shoots her a look before turning back to you. “We’re serious, though. You said you wanted a family, handsome, well now you've got yourself a big one. You’re ours now, and we don’t take that lightly.”

The warmth in her voice is undeniable, and you find yourself smiling. “You’re mine too, you know.”

Natty grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Damn right we are.”

Belle, already reaching for another pancake, grins around her fork. “Better get used to it, lover boy. Three elf girls are no joke.”

—

The pancakes are history, coffee mugs bone dry, and sunlight floods the kitchen, casting everything in this weirdly golden, almost-too-perfect glow. Julie, Natty, and Belle are still parked around the table, eyes pinned on you like you’re the main event.

Julie’s the first to break the silence, her voice calm but carrying that no-bullshit weight. “Alright,” she says. “There’s one more thing we gotta hash out.”

“More bureaucratic bullshit?” you ask, half-joking, half-dreading.

Natty leans into her palm, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, not this time. This one’s about you. What you want.”

Belle tilts her head, her blonde hair catching the light. “Yeah, like… this whole setup? It’s not exactly your typical ‘happily ever after.’ Magic babies, council breathing down our necks, all of us living together—it’s a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

Julie leans forward, her eyes dead serious but with a softness underneath that makes you pay attention. “We need to know if you’re really in this. Like, all in. This isn’t some fling or a one-night thing that spiraled out of control. This is real. It’s us. It’s a family. Forever. And if you’re gonna bolt or start second-guessing once we start building this life, we need to know now. Because if you’re not solid… it’ll wreck us.”

The word “wreck” just sits there, heavy as hell, daring anyone to argue with it.

You take a moment, looking at each of them. Julie’s got that sharp, take-no-prisoners look softened by something way more raw. Natty’s smirking, sure, but there’s a flicker of doubt behind it. And Belle, sweet Belle, is practically radiating hope, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of the shirt.

“I’m in,” you say, no hesitation. “For all of it. The magic, the council, the chaos. But mostly, I’m in for you. For us. For this family we’re building. Whatever it takes.”

Belle’s lips part in surprise, and her eyes well up slightly. “You mean that?” she whispers.

You nod, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Of course I mean it. I’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know what I don’t want. And what I want is right here.”

Natty’s grin returns, bright and full of mischief. “You realize we’re not exactly the poster-perfect family, right? You’ve got a dirty-mouthed toy-maker, a bossy logistics queen, and a cookie-devouring disaster. Not to mention the kids we’re about to have? That’s a circus waiting to happen.”

You chuckle, glancing at Belle, who’s already looking at the fruit bowl in the corner of the kitchen. “It’s not normal, no. But normal’s overrated anyway.”

Julie’s lips twitch into a faint smile, and she tilts her head. “You’d really give up your life here for us? Your home, your routines, everything you know?”

You shrug, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Home isn’t a place. It’s people. And I don’t need routines—I need you. All of you. Even Belle eating me out of house and home.”

Belle laughs, her cheeks pink. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”

Natty leans closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And the council? The North Pole? That’s a whole different world, you know. It’s not just hot chocolate and snowball fights. You sure you’re ready for that?”

You meet her gaze, unwavering. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”

Julie lets out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Well, shit,” she mutters, a smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

Natty snickers. “Guess we’re stuck with him now, huh?”

Belle squeezes your hand, her grin wide and genuine. “Good. I like being stuck with him.”

Julie rolls her eyes but smiles, reaching out to rest her hand over yours. “Then it’s settled. You’re ours, big guy. Welcome to the weirdest family you’ll ever know.”

You laugh, your chest warm, full, complete. “It’s a family,” you say softly. “And that’s all that matters.”

Natty leans back in her chair, her grin wide. “Weird or not, it’s ours. And I have a feeling we'll be very happy.”

Belle beams, looking at everyone at the table with a certain enthusiasm. “Same.”

Julie claps her hands. “Okay, enough of the sappy shit. Let’s toast to this insanity.” She grabs the pitcher of orange juice and starts pouring it into the mugs around the table.

Julie lifts her mug, her voice low but steady. “To family. The unconventional kind.”

Natty raises her cup, her grin wicked. “To the craziest family of the North Pole.”

Belle lifts her juice, her eyes sparkling with the sunlight and something more. “To us.”

Julie locks eyes with you, her voice calm but full of unshakable resolve. “To family. The kind that doesn’t play by the rules.”

You raise your cup with a laugh. “To family.”

And for the first time, it feels like the holidays aren’t just another lonely season—they’re the start of something real. Something yours. Something forever.

[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 🤍

[tusswrites]

Sold For A Soul (i)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x idol female reader (idol AU)

genre: strangers to lovers

synopsis: “Just so you know,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity, “I’d do anything to keep you close like this. Just come to me , when you have bad days like this . I want to be the one who gets to hear your complaints and worries. I want to be your rock. I want to start loving you , and to show you what love feels like. It’s not the worst feeling in the world, to be vulnerable.” or

making bargains with the devil in exchange for a chance to glory. lies, deception and uncovered feelings in a world of glitz and glam.

word count: 14k+

warnings: mentions of mistreatment, profanity, cheating (not between Y/N and Wonwoo) , eating disorder, nothing in detail but brushed over implications of abuse, power play, self loathing reader, mentions of toxic family, a lot of angst before the rainbow

rating : 18+ (no actual smut but yeah, suggestive content)

a.n. : my baby is finally being posted! truly grateful for haneul @chanranghaeys for suffering through actual garbage into producing this..thanks to eunha @svtiddiess for having to unintentionally be my beta reader for several scenes, and to kat my love @hee0soo for getting roped into it. also indi for everything you said to give me the courage to actually pen this down.

behold the masterlist that lies here!

disclaimer: I am sorry it took over two months to post this after the teaser came out! This has been in my drafts for over two months and long before, existed in my head. please understand that almost every incident in this fic, although it is set in idolverse, is fictional. unless stated otherwise, everything comes from my head and articles I have read through reddit regarding the entertainment industry in general. If you notice any similarities, please realize that it's purely coincidental, i had no intention on making a fic through anything that happened in kpop this year or the year before. however, there are some heavy topics mentioned here, so please heed the warnings and proceed with caution. if you comment , send asks or reblog with thoughts, know that for every one of these i am screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet out of giddiness!

It was never meant to come down to this. You were supposed to be a lawyer, following the predictions of Doljanchi after having picked up a mallet, destined to lead a life weighed down by the same misery that burdened your father, and his father before him. If a genealogical study were to be taken, it could be proven that the gene of misery passed down through the L/N blood. Shouldering the weight of a thousand suns on your shoulders, you’ll push your way forward, trying to attain even a bit of nirvana in this lifetime.

Which brings you here, to this dingy, roach-infested dorm, beds overlapping each other-nowhere suitable for young women to sleep. You have no time to wallow in your misery at this absolute shitshow of a place; you can only rush in haste, packing your bag and running out the door and into the sleek black van that will transport you to your destination.

Music Bank MC Hong Eunchae is on a world tour overseas, as are other popular artists, which leaves space for smaller company artists to fill up the slot as guest MCs, even if it’s just for one week. It’s a bloodbath getting a position in the nation’s finest music show as an MC and interviewing other big artists. You were never interested in the first place. In fact, your bandmate and second youngest, little Sorin, had jumped at the opportunity to take this position, excited at the prospect of being near her all-time favorite band, Seventeen. You have nothing against them; you know they’re popular, but that’s just about it.

Years of singing, dancing, and rapping have desensitized your overall love for the art form of music. You take no pleasure in keeping up with trends and fads. Your company however prohibited Sorin from her dream role and instead forced you into this. You hadn’t missed Sorin’s sidelong glance; you know she is upset, but there’s only so much you can do, after all. In your head, you promised her an autograph to make up for your company’s lack of empathy.

Music Bank’s dressing room for the MCs was much grander than you could have imagined, your stylist was thrilled at the idea of more space without having to jab elbows with one another. With your makeup fixed upon your face, you rush off to don the outfit that was picked out for you, only to be dismayed as you watch the blouse—a little too bold to call it a blouse—turn out to be a tight corset, purposefully two sizes too small for you. Any mishap and you could be bursting at the seams, your boobs spilling out, and putting on a free show on live TV.

You sit down to peer over your script, pondering over the several social cues you have to follow. A laugh after Seungcheol-ssi recited his ‘scripted’ joke? Shaking your head you continue to read through, bemused at all the ill witted acting you have to do. Notwithstanding the cringe that has to come from your mannerisms ( you have to tuck your hair behind your face and bat your lashes when Mingyu-ssi makes eye contact with you?) ,you are overtaken by the sudden shaking feeling that you were being watched. Never one to escape the overthinking allegations of your brain, you simply shrug it off and keep scrolling through.

But no, there’s a certainty that has come over you. You were being watched and that thought was rattling you.

Your adrenaline on high alert, you jerk at the intrusion of someone in your personal space,and do the first thing that comes to your mind, watching in horror as you fling a six-foot boy onto the ground. The boy looks up at you in slight bewilderment, surprised by your strength to push him like a can of potatoes, while you stare amazedly at your hands. Where was all this superhuman strength when you needed it earlier?

“ I am sorry I know this looks bad I-”

Oh it did look bad. For you, the company, the fans. Because what possessed you to shove a Jeon Wonwoo onto the floor? Why had said man been peering over your shoulder in the first place? 

Questions. So many questions and so little answers.

“Please don’t press charges, I can explain,” Wonwoo hurriedly says, his eyes staring worriedly at you, bottom lip drawn tight.

You say nothing, instead reaching out a hand to help him up. You get pulled down slightly due to his weight, but he manages to hold you just in time, getting steady and standing still.

“Look this is going to sound stupid but I didn’t intend to scare you you know? I was done with hair and makeup a little earlier than the boys  and I had some time to kill and so I wandered. I saw you holding the booklet labelled ‘Seventeen’ and I just wanted to see our script- and-” —I know it sounds super stupid, but I—well, I—” His hands flail in all directions, trying to nail down one emotion. 

 “I am sorry, but I didn’t think you’d turn around this fast, I was going to tell you I swear.” his nervous rambling continued.

Awkward silence lingers.

A conversation you had with your younger bandmate minutes prior to accepting this role pops off in your head.

“Sorin, I am really, really sorry about this. I had no choice; please understand. I’ll get you an autograph if I see Wonwoo sunbaenim, though?” 

“Can I have an autograph?” you finally muster

Now it’s his turn to stare at you, befuddled, as if you had grown two heads. You hadn’t spoken a word till now and he did not expect this to be your opening line.  Were you a fan? Hope rises. When he had still not uttered anything, you begin- “Look, umm, that’s fine, haha.” You begin, cringing inwardly at your tone, awkward and forced, trying to diffuse the tension. The boy raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure whether to laugh or be concerned. You can feel your heart racing, and the weight of the moment presses down on you.

“I don’t mind, but can you please sign something for me? My little bandmate is a huge fan of yours and she would be ecstatic if she got one.”

He looks a little forlorn as he replies, “I am sorry, we are not allowed to give out autographs as per company orders.”

You are a little upset, but you can understand. Hybe did have strict rules about artist security.

 Seeing your downcast eyes, he comes up with an idea.

“How about this? Can you do a TikTok challenge with me for 'God of Music?' I’ll get you that autograph. The company has been on my back, trying to get an idol to do this challenge with me. I think it’s fair that I give you an autograph after that? I’ll just say it's a tit for tat situation? ” He looks hopeful.

You simply nod, a little disappointed at the prospect of doing a TikTok challenge. You weren’t a huge fan of this trend that made other idols dance to your group's songs, and you sure as hell weren’t interested in doing another group's song, especially one as hard as Seventeen's. But you have no choice. This is the only way you can get Sorin to be a little less hostile with you—she could hold a grudge for days.

Wonwoo’s methods for teaching you the steps are a huge contrast to your hostile choreographer who has no patience for your inability to remember steps as quickly as your bandmates do. Wonwoo is patient and understanding of your long limbs, probably owing to his own long limbs. You quite welcome this style of teaching, as opposed to merciless taunting and jeering of your slow pace in nailing a step right. For every mistake, all Wonwoo does is giggle and although you should be offended, you can’t find it in you to be.

The Music Bank interview went better than you’d like to give yourself credit for . “So Wonwoo-ssi, " That was Dokyeom-ssi mimicking the voice of Santa and taking over the interview. You panic a little, Dokyeom ssi speaking wasn’t part of the script. The director behind the camera looks bewildered as do you. But years of media training did prepare you to prolong a poker face so you remain infixed, even with the fact that Mingyu standing next to you couldn't remain still for a single second. Seventeen were thirteen men and this was a tight fix for several men. No sooner had you entertained the thought when you felt a slight shove from your left and there you were, getting pushed again.

A hand comes from behind, to get you to remain still, for which you are grateful, you didn’t want to fall face flat on live TV. You turn around and shoot Wonwoo a thankful smile, gladly reciprocated by your new acquaintance.

You come back home ,finally crashing  after five straight hours of practice for a comeback that was still not approved by the management, exhausted and hungry.

That very night, SNS went viral. Pictures of you spread across the internet, capturing the moment you were mid-fall, with Wonwoo’s hands securely holding your waist. Cropped images of his face, paired with 10x zoomed-in shots of his hands wrapped around your hips, flooded timelines everywhere.

“It’s so obvious Wonwoo has a crush on her; just look at his eyes. The eyes never lie.” —carathoshiminwon97

“Look at the way he is looking at her in worry. Me when?” -aespasnakekyeomie

Yn you lucky bitch -@svtiddies

“I want someone to look at me the way Wonwoo looks at Y/N. “ junslastlimbofinesse

I have no idea who I want to be . Am I jealous of Wonwoo or Y/N?” confusedbisxeual

“I had no idea that a HYBE idol’s dating life would become public, especially for someone like Jeon Wonwoo. Man’s secretive as hell.” —sawdeintellgraphhwahwa88

“It’s over, y’all. My heart is in a million pieces. My bias is gone.” —wonnieismyhusband

“Aww, my eyes are blessed with the double visual attack! Y/N and Wonnie for life! Fighting!!!” —multistanarmycarat

“Happy for you, but also sobbing in my room! 😩💔 Can’t believe I’ll never be your one and only! #DramaticFan”

Fanarts, tiktok and reel edits, fanfiction even? In just a matter of moments you were being circulated everywhere. You don’t miss the vile shit either. There are AI images of you and Wonwoo, morphed and pasted into the most repugnant poses. You scroll past, heart sinking and disgust never leaving. The pros and cons of being an idol you guess.

There are some nasty comments, too. You choose not to linger too long on them, though words like “slut,” “untalented,” and “nugu group” stand out. You figured as much.

“PD-nim wants to see you in his office now.”

You freeze midstep. It’s not the first time Kim Hangyuck has asked you to come visit his office privately , but after your last stunt you’d reckon he’d have some shame before calling you in this quickly. Was what you did last time not enough for him?

“Unnie, this is exciting news. Do you think he called you over to give news about a comeback?” That was Chul, the maknae of your group, excitedly jumping in glee at the hopes of a prospective comeback. Poor innocent child . The plethora of information you held back from her to protect the youth she will otherwise not have.

Giving her an easy nod, you walk with trepidation to his office, a prayer in your heart and head held high. Men like him can smell fear from far away, eagerly stamping over it.

“Come in.”

You hadn’t even knocked. Which probably meant he was spying on you all this while.You’re not in the least surprised. Sounds just like him.

Upon entering you're greeted by one of your nightmares in human form seated behind a chair, fingers tapping impatiently against the table. For what reason. You hadn’t even taken two minutes to attend to his whims and calls. Not like you could.

With a condescending nod, he signaled you to come closer. Anxiety rose high but you pushed it back down, inching closer to his table. Every moment in his proximity kickstarted your fight or flight response.

He slides a photocard across the table and you glance down to see oh-

“Jeon Wonwoo” he slurs out.

You know. You’ve been trying hard to drive his image from your head after that unfortunate meetup backstage. The photocard across the table wasn’t helping much with that affirmation. Confusedly you turn back up to look at his leering gaze right on your cleavage. With as much discomfort as you could try to hide, you stand straight, never giving him that satisfaction again.

“Han Sung-Soo from Pledis called today. He asked for your number. Looks like someone here caught the eyes of a handsome young man.”His beady eyes glint at you expectantly as if he was passing the good news except you feel nothing of that sort.

“I don't’ understand -”

‘Well, you’re in luck, gorgeous- “ you wanted to gag. Nicknames from him reflexively brought out such reactions. -Wonwoo here says he hopes that you will go on a date with him.”

You don’t want to go on a date with Wonwoo. You have nothing against him but you also have nothing for him. Why waste time on another man that was sure to break your heart in more ways than one?

“I don’t-”

“Well lucky for you, I said yes”. You don’t have it in you to lose energy. This is typical of Kim Hangyuck. Making decisions in your personal life with no thoughts whatsoever to ask you. He leans back, looking shamelessly proud of himself.

“I thought we were not supposed to be in a relationship based on our contracts.”

“Is that why I caught you with your boyfriend the other day?”

You gulp. What?

“Don’t act so surprised gorgeous, remember what I told you? I have eyes everywhere. Everywhere.” A shiver of disgust coursed through your veins, any second longer with him, you were going to throw up in his face.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go on a date with him, lure him by your beauty, entice him enough to make him your boyfriend.” You could see the smug grin on his face like he was proud of his terrible idea.

You want to refuse but the consequences of defying an order run far deeper than you could possess to think right now.

“Why?”

‘Because gorgeous, we need funds. If you girls want the next comeback out soon, we need the publicity to attract fans to Blush Girls. This way, if we leak the news of your relationship to the press, a scandal breaks out and we gain something from this. Don’t forget this is someone from Hybe Labels. He’s high profile.”

“I thought he asked for my number because he liked me . If this is a romantic relationship, isn’t this breaching the contract of trust Hybe will endow upon me?”

He shrugged, least bothered about your emotions here. Obviously your thoughts don't matter.

‘I don’t care Y/N . Seduce him, get him in your bed, make him fall in love with you and get into a relationship with him. This is the only way ‘Blush Girls’ will get a breakthrough. Follow the plan or I will scrap your project. No comebacks, instant contract termination." Venom oozed out from his warning. He was every bit the cruel man to carry out that threat. You knew it. You couldn’t let down your members like this because your morale came in the way. You owed it to them at least.

“Fine. One date. But I get to choose the restaurant and I want Yoon to accompany me .”

“Nice try, gorgeous. We have already selected the restaurant for you. It’s on us. Victor will be accompanying you. We need to keep an eye out on you at all times.”

Victor was a pervert. During your trainee days you kept a knife under your pillow, for fear of that sleazy man. Unfortunately, the company refused your demands to fire him despite the multiple protests by artists. He was also Hangyuck’s right hand. His extra pair of ears and eyes. You knew exactly why he was accompanying you.

“Alright”. You agree. You have no choice after all.

Shaking hands with Kim Hangyuck on this deal feels like signing off your soul to the Devil.

The first date comes before you have time to reflect on it or find ways to escape the plan at all. 

It started off awful. You began on the wrong foot, clad in a busty outfit that left little to the imagination, especially for someone like Victor, who required none. Your protests against your outfit were silenced with a strong threat from your manager, quelling any audacity you had to question management's generosity in providing you with a ‘branded’ dress and paying for this date.

Makeup had covered his handprint well, but you had enough rage to flip a table. You arrive at the designated restaurant, surprised at the luxury of it. With the cheap budget decisions your company made over and over again, you didn’t think they had it in them to indulge in fine dining.

Wonwoo greeted you at the table with a ninety-degree bow.

 Sorin had told you he was older; just like a Naver search had confirmed. As your senior artist, you were supposed to bow to him, and this was an informal meeting? Then why was he bowing?

As if to mend the awkwardness, Wonwoo extends his right hand to shake yours in a cordial gesture, leaving you even more confused. Who shakes hands before a date?

The date was extremely awkward, for lack of a better word. You were very uneasy. 

Victor was set to accompany you as mandated by PD nim, but his beady eyes never left your body, making the air feel thick with discomfort. You kept trying to sit up straight every time you unconsciously bent down to look at the table, only to meet Victor's leering gaze on your cleavage.

“So, how was your day?” Wonwoo asked, hoping to break the silence between the three of you.

“Good,” you replied curtly.

“O-okay. Cool.” Dead silence followed.

He called a waiter over and placed his order. You opted for just wine. He looked a little bewildered at your choice to abstain from eating but made no comments, sending the waiter away with both your orders. And Victor’s, who hadn’t made a move except to continue undressing you with his eye and order off the whole menu.

In a true heroic moment, Wonwoo intervened, gently ushering Victor out. You watched with mild curiosity as Wonwoo slipped a few thousand-won bills from his pocket into Victor's stubby hands. Victor flashed a grin, showing his yellow teeth, and walked away from the table. Wonwoo returned, sending a charming smile your way.

Finally noticing your agitation with your dress, Wonwoo stripped off his jacket and handed it to you.

You were unsure of what to do with a new piece of fabric.

“Ahh, he’s probably uncomfortable with the jacket behind him,” you thought. Taking it from him, you place it on your lap, clutching tightly. He dropped his chopsticks mid bite, staring at you in astonishment.

“What?”

“Y-you—”

“I?”

“Nothing.” 

He went back to his stew, and you returned to your wine.

“So, how’s the wine?” he asked, once again trying to strike up a conversation.

“It’s nice. Tastes like wine.”

“Ahh, okay.”

More silence followed.

Was it your turn to ask something for a change?

“How is yours?” you ventured.

“My what?” he countered.

“Your wine.”

“I didn’t order wine. I ordered soda.”

“Oh.”

Nobody utters a single word after that.

Safe to say, dinner wasn’t going too well.

But Wonwoo is a gentleman, so after dinner—however awkward it was—he offers to take you home, silencing all your formalities as you begin to look for Victor. Wonwoo tells you he has left. Your company was not going to take too kindly to sending off your bodyguard, you could only hope the greed in Victor , satisfied at the bills thrown his way, would silence his complaints.

You know you shouldn’t trust Wonwoo over another man, but you’d take any man over Victor and Hangyuck, and that was saying something. Feeding your location into his GPS, you embark on the long, awkward journey back home.

The location you recited  to Wonwoo is a lie.

This was not the exact location of your dorm, but you’d be damned if you showed a HYBE artist where Delaware Labels housed their trainees. It was enough to attract a lawsuit—not the kind of publicity your company was willing to take.

Wonwoo catches on pretty quickly when he parks the car in front of a park that has no building in plain sight. 

He fixes you with another look that prompts you to chant your real address this time. You cringe as he nears the poor excuse for a building where you live, shoulders drawn tight.

Sorin, in her endless gushing over her dream man and explaining Carat lore, had always claimed that Wonwoo was hot but naive as hell.

With firsthand experience, you'd confidently say she was wrong about that. He looked carefully into your eyes reading every micro-expression on your face like a book. When he stopped the car at your entrance, he turned to look at you. You glanced down at his jacket, still clutched in your hands, and, as if remembering to return it, you placed it on his lap.

“Oh,” he exclaims, taking the jacket from you. It was meant for you to cover up, but you clearly hadn’t caught onto the hint, and he was too shy to ask you to, believing it would make things more awkward.

“Y/N,” he finally croaks out from his perch on the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel  and his body turned wholly toward you.

You look back at him, blinking at the earnest expression in his eyes.

Was he going to do something like kiss you? God, you hoped not. He had been decent so far, and you didn’t want that to be ruined by some unwanted advance. Was that his payback for his good character? Was that why he sent Victor home? Oh, how things were clearing up.

“Y/N?” this time his head was tipped to the side, a questioning look dancing across his eyes. 

In true fashion, you had assumed the worst and drifted off into several meaningless thoughts. His name calling brought you back to the present. You cock an eyebrow , waiting for a response. 

“You know,-  he starts -“when Seventeen started out, we had a small dorm too. There wasn’t enough room and way too many young boys. We didn’t have any active listeners or great brand deals; we just had each other. We made the best of it. It’s a gradual curve, you know? Release comeback after comeback, with no wins, working your ass off, and one day that hard work pays off. Now I’m not scared to admit it, but I love your group’s songs; I bought two of your albums, and my bias is you.

You jerk your head at that and feel a small blush creep up his face, his eyes darting around nervously , hesitant to look at your face. Cute.

The kindness bestowed on you by a total stranger was not lost on you, your eyes watering reflexively at his sudden graciousness.

Seeing your red rimmed eyes, Wonwoo panics, offering any consolation to get you to stop crying- tough luck. You kept sniffling, but no tears streamed down thankfully. 

“I can’t go home like this," you state woefully. “They'll think something happened to me and I can’t afford them questioning me right now."

Wonwoo nods sympathetically. 

“Can I drive you around the block?” he asks with a hopeful look on his face.

Well, the night is still young. 

“Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

You settle back as Wonwoo reverses the car, your breath hitching as he casually drapes an arm around the back of your seat. His focused gaze shifts behind him, steering the car with practiced ease as it glides smoothly in reverse and into the chilly night.

“Fighting, Y/N.” he sends you off an hour later with a big grin on his face and the leftovers of the food he had ordered for you at the restaurant , despite your refusal to eat. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you walk home, a dopey grin on your face and a bag filled with food.

Tiptoeing into the dorm, you’re surprised to see none of your hooligan bandmates asleep except for Chuul. They were actively awaiting your return. A warm smile spreads across your face as you share the boxes of leftovers, watching in amusement as they all dig in, your heart full . Diets be damned. 

You need to take these empty containers and throw them in the trash bins outside the building before your manager finds them in the dorm though. 

To an eager crowd of four, you announce your date was ‘great’, even though that is the last you will go on a date with Wonwoo.

You had followed the company’s orders; a couple of photos were taken—they could go viral or not; you don’t care. But in an ideal world, you and Jeon Wonwoo will never date.

“So, Y/N, how’d the date go last week?” Hyanyuck asked, his tone deceptively casual as he strolled into the rehearsal room a week later. His presence always felt like a storm cloud, ominous and charged with tension.

“It went badly, I don’t see a spark. I don’t think this will work. Sorry.” You focused on massaging your sore wrists, a futile attempt to ease the cramps that Vogueing had inflicted on you.

“She’s lying. Wonwoo-ssi had texted her the next day, and she still hasn’t responded,” Sorin chimed in from across the room, her tone sharp and teasing.

Your heart dropped. How did she know? Why was she going through your phone?

Hyayuck's smirk deepened as he turned to you. “So you lied to me?”

“It’s not like that, I—”

“Silence.” He held out his palm like a judge passing a sentence. “Give me your phone.”

“I can’t do that.” You felt a mix of defiance and dread, but your phone was swiftly passed to him by Yoonha, who shot you a triumphant look. Betrayal coursed through your veins.

As Hyanyuck scrolled through Wonwoo’s messages—sweet good mornings, soft concerns— all unanswered by you, your stomach churned with anxiety. Each text felt like a thread tightening around your heart, especially as Hyanyuck began replying with cringeworthy flirtations. Your cheeks burned reading what he wrote over his shoulder as he set another date.

You’d never text like that. Who even called someone “darling”? This was wrong—leading Wonwoo on like this was unjust. You resolved to confess everything to him tomorrow, the date Hyanyuck set for your next meetup. You couldn’t betray someone like this.

From the texts, it was clear Wonwoo was a little unsure about the sudden enthusiasm.

“Is this really Y/N?”

“Yes, yes darling. It is me. 😉😘”

You cringed again

When the second date arrived, it was oddly intimate. Victor was absent, leaving you and Wonwoo alone to navigate the currents of this charade. You slipped into your favorite pink dress, a small source of comfort knowing the stylist gave you freedom to choose your own outfit this time. Her way of apologizing for your obvious disinterest and being forced to do something you didn’t want to.

Wonwoo looked stunning in his olive green shirt, rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearm veins that gave anyone a good charity view. Under any other circumstances you’d have fallen for Wonwoo, and you can’t deny a handsome man when he was placed in front of you like this.

As you sat across from him, the atmosphere felt heavy. You glanced at your untouched plate, lying as still as your resolve to maintain this facade. This time he was visibly uncomfortable being the only one who ate. Wonwoo chewed nervously, and the sound seemed amplified in the silence between you.

Taking one more sip of your wine, you cleared your throat and he looked up mid chew, eyes widened like boba balls between the mandu in his mouth. Cute.

“So, I—” you stammered, anxiety prickling at the back of your mind. You rubbed your clammy palms against your dress, the fabric doing little to quell your unease.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, inviting. You wished he was a little more inattentive and distracted like everyone else.

“Listen, Wonwoo-ssi, this is a setup. My company, uh, Delaware, is struggling to push their artists to go viral, and they used me to date you—to create a scandalous relationship that would get people talking. You know by now any publicity is good publicity.”

You expected anger or disbelief, but what met you was something far worse: a flicker of sadness in his eyes. It struck a chord deep within you, the weight of his disappointment settling in your chest like a stone. “I understand,” he said, his voice cracking just slightly, as if he were trying to hold back a tide of emotions.

The air between you thickened with unspoken words, and a part of you ached to take it all back, to rewrite this moment. You could see the hurt etched on his face, and it twisted something inside you.

Returning to the practice room later, dropped hastily by a Wonwoo that refused to look at you, you come back to see your members practicing dance to a new song.

You find maknae Chuul in the middle dancing provocatively to steps not age worthy and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness surged within you. This wasn’t right—how could anyone allow a child to perform something so suggestive? You strode forward, determination fueling your steps.

“Uh, no, Chuul cannot be doing this.”

Ampers, the choreographer, raised an eyebrow, his irritation palpable.

“And why should I listen to you?” You stood firm, the adrenaline coursing through you. “Because it’s my job to protect my members, especially the minors, I am the leader of Blush Girls.”

A silence fell over the room, heavy and electric. Ampers’ hand shot out, and the slap resonated like thunder, shocking everyone into stillness. You felt the sting, both physical and emotional. It wasn’t just the pain that hurt; it was the weight of the moment, the knowledge that you had challenged authority in a world where no one dared to.

Ampers was an eccentric man; no one dared to question his decisions—not even the CEO, and that was saying something. There were a lot of shady rumors about him being a drug lord or an underground mafia leader. Given the amount of leverage he had over Delaware Labels, you didn’t doubt it.

Eunsae and Mishal’s faces turned to rage, Yoonha’s expression shifted to one of shock, and the rest of the room held its breath, stricken. You turned to comfort Chuul and Sorin, their tears igniting a fierce protectiveness in you.

Eunsae rushes in with a pack of something cold, icing your face with tender urgency, but the sting lingers—both from the slap and the fact that Yoonha’s gaze bore into you with envy.

“You’ve stolen my best friend, too,” she murmured, the jealousy lacing her voice sharp enough to cut.

In that moment, you felt the weight of your choices, a complex tangle of emotions you couldn’t untangle. You wanted to protect them all, yet here you were, caught in a web of your own making, trying to figure out where you fit in this chaotic world.

You should have known Ampers’ pride was too high for him to go down without a fight.

Social media exploded. You watched as you, the darling of the nation for your unique beauty and obvious spotlight for a three second viral moment turned into a pariah overnight.

Multiple newspapers splashed your face across their front pages with the headline “K-Pop Star Under Fire: Workplace Harassment Reveals Idol’s True Nature.” Accused of harassment. You? What had you done to deserve this?

The article detailed how you, a visual member of a nugu group, had been accused by anonymous staff members of “bad behavior” and “rude remarks,” claiming your members lived in fear of you. It was a twisted narrative that made your stomach turn.

What stung even more was that all the fans who had once supported you now turned against you. Your relationship with Wonwoo became a target; all the dance challenges you’d done together were scrutinized and ridiculed. You were slut-shamed and deepfaked in the most grotesque ways. The sheer ferocity of the backlash was horrifying. The very people who had cheered for you now called you the vilest names online.

Your members walked on eggshells, unsure of how to act around you. All you did was feel hollow, surrounded by people yet truly alone. Then, your phone rang. It was your mother. Your heart sank.

“Eomma, hi.” your voice quavered.

“What did I tell you about keeping that tongue of yours in check? Now look at what you’ve done. If you get dropped by your agency, know that you’re not welcome here. I cannot afford to take care of a useless daughter and a useless husband.”

The “useless husband” in question was your father, who had become a quadriplegic after a heroic accident to save your mother’s life. Her gratitude had morphed into bitterness, and she had turned into the most spiteful woman you knew. Sometimes you couldn’t believe the hateful words that left her lips. There was tough love, and then there was this—whatever twisted means it took for her to show she cared. You have grown up raising yourself. Your mother was aloof, a total nightmare. Her yells echoed in your mind even now. Your older brother had gone no contact the moment he turned 18, and it hit you hard. It was up to you to help the family. Your aspirations to become a lawyer were met with disdain; she wanted easy money, not hard-earned success.

She had pushed you into pageants and modeling—things you hated, all driven by the toxic culture. Your mother had practically whored you out, contacting agencies to get you into acting or modeling owing to your obvious beauty. When that failed, she forced you into auditions at Delaware Labels, prohibiting you from attending college. The agency took one look at your face and signed you up, ignoring your protests that you couldn’t sing or dance. It was the only time you ever saw her smile at you. Wanting to see more of that smile, you signed a seven-year contract, effectively ending your dreams of law school and subjecting yourself to a regime of extreme diets and pain. The only blessing in your life had been your former friend Julie. When she left, you were left with four other young girls to protect from the industry’s evils.

“Eomma, it wasn’t my fault.” you pleaded with the woman that birthed you.

“You think I will believe your word against a well-established man in the industry? You lied to me about dropping out of law school. I had to do it for you when your manager called to tell me you were caught sneaking out for evening classes.” Her voice dripped with contempt, as if she abhorred you.

Typical of your mom.

“Y/N, I have no money. If I die today, your father—”

There she went again with her blackmailing. Her ability to drag your sick father into any argument was astonishing.

A nation was against you, your family was against you, your own band members were against you. And yet your agency stayed silent. There was no letter to warn the fans against the malicious rumors. No effort to clear your name. Nothing.

Pledis had contacted Delaware to inform them that while it was too soon to release a post clearing the mess and wipe Wonwoo’s name linked with yours, there would be no further relations between you two. Which explained the dead silence from his side.

Since you weren't the actual problem here, your company had no choice but to let you continue with practise as usual. The CEO hadn’t announced a comeback date yet but hopes were rising for one. Your publicity, albeit a negative one had given the public to raise eyes toward you, the next comeback was a sure step to bag some fans. Which meant the company was working hard to produce good music. You hoped they didn’t end up with some hard notes for you, given as you still couldn’t actually hold notes either. 

After five days of radio silence from Wonwoo you had begun to move on . Hating your heart for even hoping he’d call to ask. Of course he thinks you were the one at problem here too. 

However, today, your phone rings with a strange text from an unknown number. You were used to the spam texts from creeps, but this was a strange number signed ‘WW’. Which, if your Carat memory was right, was Wonwoo’s signature to end every text.

A small crack comes through and you dare to hope.

It was Wonwoo. He was outside your dorm and he wanted you to meet him downstairs.

You were stupid if you missed that chance.

Wonwoo leads you to the nearby park, well sheltered by a canopy of trees, illuminated by the small fluorescent street lights that were dimming at its ends.

And this time, he’d brought a picnic basket with him

“I made this for you," he says, shoving a messily assembled sandwich into your hands, all smiles and squinty eyes, you can’t help but crack a smile. An action that brings him to further his smile, you reciprocating thoughtlessly.

Well you can’t excuse not eating after he prepared it for you.

 The last time someone cooked for you was when you were 13, before your grandmother passed away. When it was clear you had attained some cooking knowledge , your mother had made you in charge of cooking all the meals at home. Even when you went home for the holidays, it was you doing the cooking, never the other way.

You suppose you could eat just this once , if not for you at least for him. You could always expel it later. 

You didn’t have to wait for later. One bite in and you were spitting it out.

Wonwoo watches with the cutest face you have ever seen on a grown man, unknown pout on his lips and furrowed eyebrows at your blatant disrespect spit out what he had lovingly taken time to make.

“Wonwoo-ssi” . “Did you umm- did you eat this’ “No, I wanted you to have the first bite.” Of course he did.

You were not going to hurt his feelings like that. You were not that cruel despite what the tabloid told. But you could make him taste and see what he’s done.

“Can you take one bite” you insist, pushing the sandwich closer to his mouth.

In a way to see what the hullabaloo was all about , he takes a tentative bite of the sandwich and you watch as his face morphs from doubt to disgust. His pout intensifies.

“ I thought I did good.”

“What did you even put in here”,  your amusement never failing to make an appearance. “All the fancy stuff Gyu uses.”, he answers, shoulders tilted up with certain pride.

“Like what?” you were curious.

“This is my first time cooking ever.” He admits ashamedly and you are no longer surprised. That explains the undecipherable saltiness to this sandwich. 

“So I decided to be a little fancy and reached into Mingyu’s seasoning cupboard. There’s every kind of powder including the pink season. I added that to give some color and make the sandwich pretty to look at. “ He finishes triumphantly with an innocent grin.

You are touched . Truly. But-

“Pink stuff?” “Wonwoo-ssi just how much of the pink stuff did you put there?”

“A lot’ he was staring at you with a cocked brow , offended you would question his cooking skills like this. 

“Wonwoo-ssi-’

“Please, just call me Wonwoo”

“Alright Wonwoo, that pink stuff- you air quote is actually salt. Himalayan salt.”

You wait for one beat. Two beats.

“Ohhhh— “ he draws out at the realization of a look of mortification coming at him.

His eyes scrunched up cutely, you catch his adorable cheeks bunch up and you want to comfort him like you would baby Chuul when she was this upset. Except he was no baby.

So you resort to laughing. 

You are in awe of this man who you try so hard not to like is slowly working his way up to being a friend. A good friend even.

After a good five minutes of shared laughter that trickles to small squeaks , a small air of awkwardness hung in the air.

But this time he is prepared to counter that.

“Can I ask you about what went down the other day?”

“When?”

“I have seen the tabloids Y/N. What went wrong with your choreographer?”

Oh. You did figure he would eventually ask, you didn’t expect it this suddenly though.

“Do you want my version or the truth?”

‘But isn’t your version the truth?” You freeze, your eyes misting up immediately.

Seeing your face he tentatively reaches out, and  seeing no resistance from your side, rests a palm on your knee. Your knee was beginning to heat up.

“ I- I did nothing wrong you know?” “Trust me Y/N I know that.”

You are touched at a strangers' choice to believe you over your own mother. 

As a child you were the quiet one while your brother relentlessly bullied you. Of course your mother sided with him. This is the first time someone wants to listen to your side of the argument.

 Before you ask him to explain , he beats you to it, “I know you hate dance challenges, your body language screamed as much but you did that to give your bandmate my autograph didn’t you? S-sorin right? Your eyes widened. “Oh my you know her name? She is going to be so ecstatic about this I have to tell her right now.”

“See? Even now you are thinking of ways to make someone else happy. So tell me what really went down?” You recount the whole situation to him, opting to leave out Chuul’s name and her dancing being the whole reason, you don’t have to give up her identity like that. 

“And I know that’s what bring the fans but - I-” “You know if you are uncomfortable about something, you have the right to state your reasons not to do it. “ He states gently," The company cannot just force you .”

You snort out a laugh . Oh this fool. If only it were that simple

You say no more opting to end this conversation there. No need to get things all mushy now.

Not wanting to delve more into the awkward air, Wonwoo cleared his voice and you knew he was going to bring up another topic

He talks about his upcoming tour and you listen in awe as he describes their travel around the world.

One perk you had hoped to get as an idol was to do world tours, in hopes of traveling around and seeing new places. 

Unfortunately, Blush Girls was too nugu to make it past the small company curse. Delaware was also very low on funds, often shamelessly resorting to request you to get your way through some potential investors. You were numb at this point,a bin used by men, to get bills thrown at your face only to be dipped away by Delaware as part of the compromise you’d made with them. 

‘So, what does flying feel like?”

‘Well I can’t help you there, I don’t have wings Y/N.” he chuckles softly.

“No, I was walking about an aircraft, how does it feel to fly in the clouds?”

You see the small look of shock before he instantly wipes it away “Yo-you’ve never been on a plane before?” 

You shrug dismissively. There were small concerts and festivals in Japan you could have gone to. Establishing yourself in the Japanese market would have given you a leg up for sure to come out of nugudom. You worked overtime to provide the funds for Delaware, you were sure of that, your body and throat ached to fill the void. But greed triumphs over integrity you suppose. You could only watch in sadness as men dipped into the hard work you invested in and left you even more void, shallow soul and mind.

Sorin watched from the window as her celebrity crush, the man that filled her childhood bedrooms, sat there on the park bench with the dopiest grin she’s ever seen staring at her unnie.

 It’s not fair. You didn’t even know him like she did. She was the one who gushed to you about how much she was sure she was going to marry Jeon Wonwoo one day. And now there sat the man of her dreams, a palm pressed against his cheek, staring at you. 

You who had lied and said there was ‘absolutely nothing’ happening between the both of you. Of course you’d get the man too. Just like everything in Sorin’s life she wished to have.

After a night of easy conversation and shared laughs, you sneak back into your dorm , waving goodbye to the boy slowly worming himself into your heart. 

You hoped everyone was asleep, rehearsals started early tomorrow and Ampers had quite the mood these days. You didn’t want to poke the bear with overtired girls at the dance practices.

But you were wrong.

The door is forcefully opened by a livid Sorin who scornfully looks at you as you do your walk of shame back to your bed.

‘Slut” you overhear her mumbling. Your heart sank. Who taught this child that word?

Ever since she was denied the Music Bank position her behavior had spiraled, and you understood teenage angst but when met with open disdain, you hoped for a chance at grace. 

Nothing much changes after that. Wonwoo and you exchange texts on your phone although you space out your replies from a day to a week. 

You cannot lead him on but the temptation of texting him is so strong that you cannot ignore it either. 

The hate online from netizens die down a little bit. Soon you are no longer the poster child for bullying owing to the actual controversy of plagiarism from “Chorstify’. Good days were coming.

 Or so you thought.

The Mama Awards rolled out , and for the first time in two years since debut, Blush Girls had received an invitation. First time for a Delaware Labels group, and no thanks to the immense publicity this year has bestowed upon you. 

Wonwoo texts you a ‘see you there’ even before the announcement and you are even more confused. How did he know?  Was he perhaps involved in Blush Girls getting an invitation to an award show destined to be swept off by big labels?

You sigh. For an ‘acquaintance’ he sure did a lot more than you would have expected someone to. You should pay him back, you think. No one does favors for free. But how do you pay a rich million dollar earning idol? And how do you pay at all when the company refused to pay your group, heaping a bigger trainee debt? You only know one way of payback that you had learned from your mother- giving up your body. 

“Men only want one thing” your mother had warned you. 

Hair and makeup went quickly for you giving you more time to loiter around and hopefully catch a glance of ‘Big Cobra’, your childhood celebrity crush. The only dream artist you actually hoped to collaborate with. When Delaware did accept you,you had hoped you’d be given a rapper position but one look at your visuals and your soft voice, they had laughed at your request, calling you unfit for such a position. 

You had been eavesdropping your manager’s conversation with your idol, giddy with the prospect of him dancing to one of your earlier songs. What an honor! Except- 

 “Who’s Yoonha?” Cobra ssi bellows out through the other door. Yoonha also had big admiration for him. You wouldn’t actually mind if she was the one who got to do this dance challenge with him. 

There’s a slight crumpling of papers rustling and you can only imagine Yoonha’s face card being shown to Cobra. What follows next, changes the trajectory of your vision for the idol of your dreams.

“Nope, she’s too ugly.”

“But she is such a huge fan of yours, this would lift her spirits.” Your manager protested on her behalf.

“Everyone is a huge fan of me Dongyun-ssi . Give me a pretty woman. Don’t you have a Y/N in your group? Give me someone that looks beautiful. Or get me a younger one. I need to establish myself in today’s generation before they forget me.”

You feel no elation at hearing your name spoken in such praise. Only pure disgust.

“How about Sorin? Here, this is her ”

“No she’s too ugly too. I want the pretty one. She looks youthful enough. What is her name?” 

She’s Y/N but she has been punished by the agency for her recent remarks, she is not allowed to film challenges till one month is up.” “Fine, I’ll do it with the other two chicks here but remember, you owe me a big one. I happen to gain nothing from this since I cannot dance with the visual.”

Over your dead body. No way were you going to allow a grown man who’d openly demanded for a child 20 years his junior , to collaborate with the other members he had insulted. No way in hell. 

So you resort to snitching on him and telling Yoonha and Sorin to avoid the dance challenge.

To your utter amazement, Yoonha and Sorin defied your orders to not dance with Big Cobra ,instead calling you out on jealousy. What jealousy? If only they understood.

As Seventeen takes the stage, your mind struggles to focus. Whatever happened a few moments prior backstage has soured your mood. You knew you’d get in trouble with your company later for all the bad reactions you were showcasing to several cameras but you didn’t fucking care. The disgust you feel was too intense to mask.

A hand crept up into your peripheral vision and you catch a glimpse of Eunsae watching you with concern etched on her face.

“You know unnie, I know you are the leader and it's part of  your role to take care of us. But sometimes, I wish you’d tell us too. I am not a child anymore. I know everyone around us are monsters. I just don't get why you have to bear this all alone. Something happened backstage and that’s clearly made you upset. Please tell me what happened. I thought you were happy BigCobra ssi would agree to do a dance challenge with us. Your face shows otherwise  ”

Sometimes you don’t understand why you kept a lot of things from your members. At least the older ones. You had lived your entire life being an adult in the situation and wanting to shelter your members from all of it, but these ladies were all growing up. They were not children anymore. At least not Eunsae.

So you spill. 

By the time you are done recounting the story to Eunsae, you see her face has darkened, disgust apparent in her face too. 

“He did what now?” she interjected.

You say nothing, your silence speaking far more, conforming your thoughts.

Eunsae had biblical anger displayed on her face. Her jaw clenched tight with anger, her fists tightly holding on your wrist. You felt the same way.

“And you still let them go ahead  unnie?” she pressed.

“I mean they didn’t really give me an option . Yoonha was convinced I was jealous of forbidding her.” 

Eunsa rolled her eyes at that.

“Typical Yoonha” she muttered.

The next day Twitter went viral with a picture of Eunsae’s rolled eyes and you whispering in her ear amidst Seventeen’s special stage

Typical media and fan behavior, making noise out of nothing.

But this time the hate wasn’t just directed at you, your bandmate was included. Very quickly a warning was issued by your company threatening strong actions against malicious rumors against your labelmate and you. The last scandal you want to be involved with is fighting a large fandom of a popular boy group.

Only if Eunsae knew you had to sacrifice a part of you to get that post up and running up on the world wide web.

Chuseok holidays rolled out and while everyone went home, you found yourself alone. Your mother had claimed she was taking your father to a hospital, there is no way she can house you. 

“Your meal plans cost extra," she said, chucking you as just another burden.

With the girls gone, Victor was in charge of keeping you company and you wanted no opportunity to share the same air as him.

Maybe you could surprise your mother, perhaps with a surprise meal you'd cook. She wouldn’t turn her own daughter away would she?

You wished you hadn’t taken your own advice because on opening the room to your childhood home, you are greeted by the sight that will forever be imprinted in your memories.

Your mother wrapped around Hyangyuck, your PD. While your sick father was in the other room, blissfully unaware.

“Y/N wait- it’s not like that.” your mother’s face paled as she stammered out an apology.

You were done. Honestly this explains why you got selected despite your lack of talents anyway. Your mother had probably gotten her way around Hyangyuck with her connections to secure your spot. The realization burned.

You didn’t know who your own married mother was..

Not knowing what to do , where to go, you stand at the crossroads .  The dorm was empty, Victor was insufferable, and home—home was a twisted illusion. A sudden beep pulled you from your thoughts. A text from Wonwoo. It was the sixth message he’d sent in a week. Peering down at the screen, you read his invitation: “Want to go hang out? If you’re in the mood.”

You scoffed, not in the mood for anything. But the thought of spending time at his apartment—away from this mess—was tempting.

Lucky for you, Wonwoo was accepting of that too.

You had been looking for a chance to repay him back for all his kindness anyway

Wonwoo’s apartment was just as you’d imagined it. Cute and demure. Very minimalistic with the  exception of the kitchen- stacked with all the fancy kitchen equipment you could ever dream of. ‘Mingyu’s sanctuary’ he’d called it.  You chuckled to yourself, remembering Wonwoo’s disastrous sandwich-making fiasco. He was definitely not the chef in this partnership.

Wonwoo offers you some clothes-  probably an ex’s. A shorter someone because they fall ankle length. Wonwoo takes a good look at you and pursues his lips.

“Stop laughing!” you called out, feigning annoyance.

“I didn’t laugh,” he protested, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him.

“Your face says otherwise!”

As if that grants him the excuse, peals of laughter ring out , his palms doing nothing to stifle the obvious joy in his voice.

After the laughter drowns out you take a good look at him. Wonwoo is sitting by the fireplace, palm pressed to his cheek, elbow resting on the arm rest, softly glancing at you in a look of pure adoration. A look you can’t decipher . You couldn’t help but wonder why someone would look at you that way. 

A confident strut to your otherwise beating heart you walk over to where he sat. Leaning down to meet his gaze, you turned on the sultry charm you didn’t know you possessed, and his uncertainty morphs into something akin to eagerness. Although you have never given him the inkling that you do like him, he was sure he did. Anyone with eyes could see that. But this forward action from your side for once? Very welcome in his sight. 

Leaning closer to him, a hairbreadth away, you press your lips against his.

For one second nothing happens and you tense. But Wonwoo bridges the gap before you back away, an arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer to him, cradling your waist. Instinctively, you jerk again, tickled at the sensation. But he’s quicker, placing the other arm around your left hip, now in a lock against your hip , drawing you closer and onto his lap. You don’t fight it, immediately settling onto his knees and gliding over to his thighs, brought forward by Wonwoo’ quick hands. Hands that had moved to your ear, his finger fondling with the star earring dangling from your right ear. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own too, hands edging dangerously close to his chest. A beat later you place it against him, reveling in the hitch in his voice, fueled to take it further and pressing even harder against him.

Wonwoo shyly asks for entrance and you grant it to him. A dangerous thing to do because the next second you are at his mercy. He dominates the kiss and you have to ground yourself against his shirt, tugging on it impossibly hard. Any whimper you have is swallowed by Wonwoo’s strong tongue game.

A kiss he very much enjoys till his lost thoughts come back to him a minute or two later, and realization dawns.

He pulls back first leaving you suspended in a swirl of emotions—sadness mixed with a tinge of regret. His eyes searched yours, studying your expression for any sign of interest, but he found only confusion.

“I am sorry-”

“Why did you kiss me, Y/N?” His voice was quiet, almost vulnerable.

“ I wanted to pay you back?” your voice ringing on hollowness.

 He tips his head. 

“Pay me back? How? Why” His brow furrowed in confusion.

The silence stretched, wrapping around you both like an uncomfortable shroud. You felt the weight of your own words, the lingering truth of how you’d tried to manipulate the kindness he had shown you.

“So that kiss-”

“Look, it’s late in the evening Y/N, you were already upset when you came in and It’s my fault I shouldn't’” “No it’s not yours it’s mine” “Why don’ we sleep on it, hmm? Maybe after a good nights rest we can talk it out. How about that?” There is a small smile on his face but you’re not blind, it’s forced.

He leads you to his bedroom and ushers you around it.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in the next room.”

“Where are you going?”

“”I’ll be right next door Y/n. In Mingyu’s room. He’s not home anyway.”

 “I am sorry I took advantage of your kindness. I know you don’t like me like that and I-”

“Wait, do you think I don’t like you?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. “Y/n, I like you. Too much. But I’m scared you don’t.”

The admission hung in the air, thick with unspoken feelings. The silence turned awkward, and he finally backed away, breaking the spell. “I’ll take Mingyu’s room. You can have my room.”

And he leaves you, with an empty heart. Truly the daughter of your mother as much you both would like to deny it. Whoring yourself out for a place to spend the night, seeking validation in the most twisted ways. You spend the whole night tossing and turning, your brain won’t shut up, your mind is not at ease. 

You didn’t sleep a wink last night, fabric bunched up under your uncouth sleeping habits. Alert at the sounds of pots and pans clucking you spring up and make it to the kitchen, where you get to behold Wonwoo in all his morning glory, bleached hair sticking up in every odd direction, face marred with several lines creased by the pillows. 

"Good Morning” he calls out cheerfully, and you jump a little, you didn't think he was a morning person to be honest. 

You call back and exchange pleasantries, still over the edge of what happened last night. 

“Coffee?” 

You shake your head. He shrugs and follows you to the breakfast table.

“I ordered some breakf-”

“Oh, I am not hungry .”

He looks a little annoyed, like he wants to say something but he thinks the best of it and for that you are grateful.

You watch again, as he eats his pancake, a part of your stomach grumbling at you for denying it food. Meanwhile you sip mindlessly on the coffee, disgusted at its bitterness. After breakfast, a blanket of thorn air shrouds around you both and you sit basking in it, watching Wonwoo clear the table, noiselessly wiping down the countertop.

He watches you fiddle with your thumbs and sighs, coming closer to stand next to you.

You can’t keep quiet any longer. You jump right onto it. “Did I do something wrong? Did you not want it? Oh no, you didn’t want it, did you? I just—you had that look and I—”

“Y/N, stop.” Wonwoo clicked his palm against yours, his grip firm but gentle, preventing you from delving further into panic. “You are spiraling .”

“I did like it, alright? Too much. But this isn’t how I wanted it to happen. We should both feel it.”

“Oh, that’s alright. You can take as much as you want from me. What I say doesn’t matter at all.” you softly speak out. 

The shock on his face revealed the depth of your words. His eyes look around your face, waiting for a punked moment. Nothing comes out except your earnesty.

“Okay, we need to talk.”

Still not letting go of your wrist, he carefully led you through his apartment, eventually guiding you onto his bed.

“Sit.” His command was gentle yet firm, and you plopped down on the edge of the bed. 

He sat across from you, eyes intense, leveling you with a look that felt like it could pierce through your defenses.

“What you just did—you can’t just do that, Y/N. That’s not how this works. I want you, and I know you know that. But this—it can’t happen unless you feel it too.”

You remained mute, lost in a sea of conflicting emotions.

“When we like someone, it’s a two way street. Unless both parties enjoy it, you shouldn’t do it. Every time I see you, my heart races- he reaches out, placing your palm against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “I get butterflies. You make me want to work hard to earn your love. You’re smart, kind, and beautiful. Sure, you can be a little aloof, but I find that really cute about you. I can’t do anything with you unless you feel it too. It should never be about me alone. You matter too, Y/N.”

He insists, earnest eyes boring into yours, to drive the point inside.

Words you had never heard before, words that felt foreign. When did you ever matter? Who had you ever mattered to?

You were suddenly transported back to that sunny day when your brother left. All four feet of you clinging to his leg, pleading for him not to go. At fifteen, you had endured enough emotional abuse from your mother, desperate for him to take you along.

Kicking his foot ,he had sent you tumbling to the ground, and you watched him walk away, backpack slung over his shoulder, leaving you alone. That was never the action of someone who did something to someone who ‘mattered’. 

“Which is why I want to ask, Y/N—do you feel anything for me at all?”

He inched closer, his gaze locked onto yours, a mix of urgency and vulnerability shimmering in his dark eyes. “I need to know,” he whispered. “Because every time I’m around you, it’s like I can’t breathe, and I don’t want to ignore what this could be. It’s eating me alive.”

His hands fidgeted nervously, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain some composure. “I don’t want to pressure you, but... if you feel even a fraction of what I do, please just say something. It’s been driving me crazy, and I just can’t hold it in anymore.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and he leaned in slightly, searching your eyes for any hint of an answer. “Just be honest with me. Please.”

You-

Your instincts screamed to run away. This level of vulnerability was foreign to you. But your heart demanded you stay.

“When you’re near me, my heart—” you softly whisper, like the words feel foreign to you, staring into his dark, shiny orbs. “It races too. I feel something. I can’t explain it, but there’s something.”

Initially, you had dismissed it as mere attraction. But the more you saw him, the more you realized you felt it? You felt this pull, a gentle tug in your heart that he was here. That he genuinely liked you for you, and that was honestly so confusing. Why would he ever? But also, you liked it. You liked being seen for who you really were, flaws and all, without the masks you usually wore. It was a strange comfort, this connection you were building.

“Please be patient with me. I know I want it, but I don’t exactly know what I want. I had nobody to look up to and learn what love feels like.”

“Honestly, Y/N, if it’s with you, I can always wait, baby. You are worth the wait.”

You froze.

“Oh no, did I say something triggering? I am sorr—”

“What did you just call me?” Your voice quivered, the weight of his words hitting you hard.

“Baby?”

One tear fell, then another, until a torrent of tears cascaded down your cheeks.

“Eomma please, just one hug. All my friends have mom's who hug them. Why can’t you hug me atleast once?” Your eight year old self had come out of the quiz as the only one who had all the answers and had received three gold stars. Holding all three gold stars in huge triumph you held out your report card in hopes that she would put it up near the refrigerator and give you a hug, that being your only demand.Except your mother had thrown the kitchen towel angrily across the table, slammed  a fist on the table and-

“Not now Y/N, I don’t have time for your kiddy games.”

“Earth to Y/N.”

“No one’s ever called me that before.” you finally state. 

“What? Baby?” he recounts.

Yes.

“That’s impossible. What about your parent”- you shook your head fiercely causing him to change his tactics.

“Was that why you were crying love?”

You shakily nod. Is this what catharsis felt like? Crying but empowering?

“Aww love” he cooed. “No one has to endure that alone you know.”

“How about we have some breakfast and then we cuddle and sleep? Your eyes tell you haven’t slept a wink last night”

“I’m not hungry.”

“All right then. I have a plan.

“ I am listening.”

“Let’s cuddle.”

“What is that supposed to do?”

“It is stress relieving. Trust me on this.”

“Are you a cuddler Wonu?”

He looked a bit embarrassed to admit but the answer was there in his actions- crossed out arms and pinkening cheeks. He takes a defensive stance in his next words, A cocky eyebrow perked up. “Maybe? Mingyu gives the best hugs”. He looks off in the distance as he says it, like reminiscing a past memory. 

Lazy grin in, you expect him to unfold. After a squirming session of three seconds total, he comes clean. “Well yesterday I was a little upset and Mingyu was there. And he- well- you know how he is. He gives the best hugs alright! Don’t judge me. If you had to be smothered in his arms you’d know how safe it is! All I am saying is, we could do the same thing. You’ll get to enjoy what a real cuddle session looks like ” 

Never would you have imagined a tall, big man absolutely folding himself at the prospect of recounting a great cuddle session with his ‘homie’. Can’t say you are not enamored though. 

You watch fondly as he fixes the pillows and settles down.

“Come here, he croons out, arm extended and invitingly calling you over. You crawl over the sheets, ready to settle down and hug him, like you’d hug Chuul when she came to your bed at night after a nightmare or when the homesickness hits too hard. 

“What are you doing?”

“Uuhh hugging you?” Were you doing that wrong too? 

“No I don’t mean you hug me , I want to be the big spoon.” 

“What’s a  spoon got to do with hugs?”

His mouth opens wide as he stares at you in shock. Seriously, what is happening?

Wonwoo manhandles you to mold you into the position he wants you to be in, on your side while he engulfs you from the back. The heat radiation at his proximity from your back and the warmth omitting from your heart was cocooning you from both sides.

Wonwoo’s body is solid and comforting, the best combination right now. You softly breath in his familiar scent, the musk of a strong cologne. 

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “It feels nice.”

He chuckled softly, and the sound reverberated through you. His fingers found their way to your waist, gently tracing circles on your skin. The simple gesture sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned back into him, craving more of that warmth.

“See? This isn’t so bad,” he teased, his breath tickling your ear.

“No, it’s really nice,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day melting away as you enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. Wonwoo’s arms felt like a protective cocoon around you, and you found yourself relaxing more with every passing second.

“Just so you know,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity, “I’d do anything to keep you close like this. Just come to me , when you have bad days like this . I want to be the one who gets to hear your complaints and worries. I want to be your rock. I want to start loving you , and to show you what love feels like. It’s not the worst feeling in the world, to be vulnerable.”

His words sent your heart racing, and you turned slightly to catch his gaze. The look in his eyes was a mixture of warmth and determination, and you felt your heart swell. In that moment, everything else faded away—your worries, your past—and all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace and the connection building between you.

“Thank you for everything Wonwoo,” you whispered, feeling grateful and vulnerable all at once.

“Always,” he replied, tightening his hold around you, making you feel cherished and safe in his arms.

You both wake up around midday. Wonwoo pecks your nose and leaves to fend off to do some errands leaving you back on the bed, lethargic at the lack of food catching up to you. 

( TW: Eating Disorder mentioned, unhealthy diet habits mentioned . Reader has an EXTREMELY fucked up mindset against food. Be warned)

He comes back carrying take out in his hand. Great, in your haste you had forgotten to ask him if he had eaten at all. How pretty selfish of you. ‘Typical Y/N’ your mom’s snarky voice entered your head. ‘Always thinking about no one else but herself’.

You watch him unpack the food, setting aside a grand feast of chunky beef ghalbi, a crimson shade of kimchi and white rice sprinkled with furikake. The smell of succulent meat permeates the air and a deep part of you craves for it. It’s been over a year since you last allowed your body to have the luxury to indulge in expensive meat. You watch as he neatly arranges the containers and draws out two plates from the kitchen, along with two wine glasses.  You hope to God he doesn’t ask you to eat with him, you have no active lies to cook up, it’s clear he’s caught onto the pattern. He pops open the wine bottle, fizzing out the soda and you watch as he carefully pours two glasses of wine onto the awaiting cups. 

He beckons you over to the table as he slowly lowers himself , expectantly awaiting your arrival any minute. Not wanting to disrupt his anticipation, you saunter over to him. Maybe you could drink a glass of wine with him and call it a day.

You should know by now Wonwoo was always a step ahead. He pulls out a chair for you , tilting his head expecting your rear to make yourself comfortable and dive into the feast ahead. 

“I already a-” "Sit down, Y/N." His voice is assertive — a rare tone coming from someone as soft-spoken as Wonwoo.

You gulp a bit hoping to save some time and he knocks against your knee pit effectively sending you toppling backwards and into his strong arms. They wind around you and he places a small nip on the lobe of your right ear, nuzzling his nose on your chin.

You watch as his right hand takes out a pair of chopsticks dipping into a plump slice of beef, immersing it in a thick paste of soy red sauce and bringing the meat closer to your mouth. That was held shut. 

 Tight.

You shake your head avoiding the tantalizing piece of meat set in front of you to tempt you into succumbing and eating something.

“Y/N please eat” You shake your head again. You can’t. Why doesn’t he understand?

“I am not hungry” “I call bullshit love, you haven’t eaten anything and your gurgling stomach is testimony to that, no- c-covering it won’t hide those noises , love.”  He teeters between a dominant tone and fits of chuckles at your hurried attempts to muffle the mighty roars your stomach makes at the sight of your favorite food.

“Remember you are nothing more than your face, you are just a caricature of a persona I drew up for you, without this body to assist , you are worthless. So avoid eating at all costs. Your body pays for all the bills here so work hard to remain thin. You got me pig?”When assigning different roles, you were the only one who was given a visual role, the company calling everyone else ugly just because they had failed their weekly check ups. 

During trainee days you were all subjected to the most humiliating ways to check weights . At the end of each week, the CEO would arrive with his side goons for weekly reviews and gift the winner with the lowest weight. In a  truly fucked up mindset, all of you competed for that gift. It was only after your closest friend Julie was taken out of the program by her mother who scorned the system, you realized how young teenagers were suffering from unhealthy eating habits. At the price of your body, you were able to find a leeway in the contract putting a stop to these weight surveys on kids. They still had strict diets but their weight was not monitored as strictly like you had feared. You watched with glee as baby Chuul and Sorin start gaining some color in their cheeks .

The price to pay was Yoonha abhorring you when the roles were given out and she was considered over the weight limit to for the standard rate for a visual (still underweight on a doctor’s scales). That was the day her hate for you grew, she believed you played this to take this opportunity from her. If only she knew the sacrifice you made for her to live out what you wanted to. 

There’s a voice in your head repeatedly warning you to not fall for your cravings and a voice outside it beseeching you to just eat it. 

“Y/N just open your mouth okay? I will feed you, come on now just say ahh. “ You shake your head violently, trying to trickle down from his strong grip. He’s taking none of your nonsense tonight.

“It’s just one bite love. One bite. That’s all. If you don’t like it you don’t have to eat and I won’t force you. “ Yeah it’s just one bite.

Except-

“One bite is all it takes for you to lose the image the group is built on”

The voices in your head were winning this round . 

“Y/N “ He worriedly calls out.

“I can’t. They said I can’t” You finally state.

“Who said you can’t eat baby?”

You melt at the nickname and he smirks against your shoulder.

“Baby, listen to me“ You turn around to look at his eyes, rounded and worry etched at the edges of his soft glance.

“Why can’t you eat baby?” You continue to stare back at him.

‘Are you allergic to meat?” You shake your head.

“Do you not like this?” You shake again. You can’t lie about that.

“When was the last time you ate and be honest with me please”.He implores softly. You can’t help but shed a tear at his soft heartedness. All this harsh exterior but you have yet to meet another man who’s shown this much affection to you.

You refuse to give an answer. It’s probably for the best you think.

Sighing at your silence he shifts you to be a little more comfortable.

“Listen to me. This body you have, all it asks is for a little respect. Just do the bare minimum: feed it something to keep you nourished and moving forward. How are you supposed to make progress if all you do is starve? One bite never harmed anyone, but going several lacks will definitely take a toll.”

You see no lie in his statement despite the several voices of protests in your head.

It’s been four days since you had eaten a bite after the cake you ate last for Mishal’s birthday live. You had offered to throw it out before the staff did, except you and Mishal snuck into a bathroom stall and scarfed the whole thing down, greedily feasting on red velvet gooey deliciousness. 

‘Here just look at the food. Don’t you want to smell it?”

Your eyes watered again at the senses flooding your mouth and eyes, there was an aroma wafting in the air, the glisten of the red beef against the twilight hue percolating through his high rise widows. Placed before you, the dish glistens with saucy goodness, white sesame seeds scattered artfully across the surface, while green scallions are peppered around the edges. You can’t help but yearn for it, your hunger intensifying with every glance. Ignoring the blaring alarms wailing in your head, you finally dive forward and take a nibble of the beef.

Succulent meat falls right off the bone and gets swallowed by your mouth wholly, the caramelized glaze dribbling down your chin.  Wonwoo delicately wipes it away and you moan involuntarily as the taste hits the roof of your mouth.

Wonwoo lets out a throaty chuckle, opting to peck your cheek when a warm blush overtakes your face . You hadn’t meant to do that. 

“That good eh?”

You simply nod, opening your mouth like a baby bird for one more bite pouting at him when he takes too long in your opinion.

‘Coming pretty baby” 

With his tender loving care the hunger in your stomach slowly ebbs away but streams of tears flow down heartily.

 No one has ever fed you as far as you can remember. Your bitchy mother certainly didn’t. Your father was prevented from it. You had always craved an affection so fickle as being fed that when the first person to feed you was a boy who you had sworn to close your heart to, you couldn't help the small cracks that formed. 

Your bites had turned into full on gobbles , hunger overtaking your senses . Seemingly , Wonwoo didn’t seem to mind continuing to feed you despite multiple attempts of objection from your end.

“I am eating too pretty girl , don’t mind me feeding you. Look at your round cheeks filled with food , I can’t help but admire your -“

Ignoring the temptation he comes forward and places a long smooch on your cheek drawing out the long ‘mwah ‘ sound , hoping that with this you can understand just how much he’s in love with you and cares for you .

Your eyes close at the tender gesture, the tears still ebbing. You cannot be bothered to care and wipe them away , the catharsis of just letting go and enjoying something you had denied for so long brings euphoria into your life .

Maybe if you analysed it,  anyone could guess that a part of you was regressing at the affection of being fed by someone else , your mouth still conditioned to opening up every time he brought a bite close to you ,despite the knowledge that you are way over your limits 

When all is said and done , he slouches on the chair taking you with him , causing you to slump on him like a dead weight . You try to take this opportunity to save yourself and heave out the food before the effects of your gluttony shows on your face but he’s quicker than you , bringing his legs around yours, wrapping them around your shin and preventing any methods of escape you had in mind to empty the content of food. 

“Just stay here for a little while more love “

You don’t argue this time after debating with the voices. . It’s the least you could do for your precious body - to feed and nourish overworked organs . The only fodder they had these days was the stress you caused.

You stick around for a little more time in Wonwoo’s apartment, still not having left the secluded space of his arms. Nobody could ever prepare you for how much of a yapper Wonwoo really was. There you sat, on his lap, filled to the brim with food you loved, watching endearingly as the man you were slowly and quickly catching feelings for, filled every second with his deep rumbly voice talking about his childhood. “And we took Bohyuck to the hospital and that's when he knew shit was up. He confessed right before they injected him, serves him right for lying to us and making Eomma cry. I was worried too-”

Before he could continue with his brother's antics, the door opens and you see someone emerge from one of the rooms. Not really comfortable around others, much less a man such as thee Kim Mingyu, you jump up and quickly bow, your manners never forgotten. 

Wonwoo rushes to follow suit, standing up as Mingu rounds the corner of the countertop making his way to get a  glass of water. You are a little miffed. Mingyu has not acknowledged your presence in the slightest, choosing to ignore your bow or small ‘hi’.

Instead he takes one look at the night suit you were wearing, furthers his head to look at Wonwoo and ask, “Woozi really?” and turns around to leave pronto.

Wonwoo, as though sensing your uncomfort, rubs his chin on your head and tells you to ‘ignore him, he’s just cranky’. 

The dark feeling settles down in you, that you’ve done something wrong. You can’t place what exactly but if Wonwoo tells you to ignore it, what better to than just shrug it off and move forward?

The next week passes off as some of the best moments in your life. Wonwoo, you were beginning to realize was an absolute sweetheart of a person.

Maybe if you sat down for a single second and pondered, you’d reflect that you were moving too fast too quick, one minute you had started as fake dates, the next minute your heart knew no endless joy like the euphoric high you were riding now in the attention of a boy who has stolen every waking second of your thought.

Wonwoo pampered you like no other, in a way you didn’t think was possible for someone to take care of you. Diets be damned, rules be fucked, under the canopy of his house you both camped in a safe haven basking in each others presence. Night times were your favorite part of the day, you loved being spooned and coddled. Wonwoo, had big muscular hands that wrapped around you, always pulling you close to his chest, the best cacophony of sounds that could push you to blissful sleep .

If not for the demons that rang out in the sanctuary of your mind, riddling you unable to sleep, paralyzing your thoughts and stripping you off peace.

A.N: my lap crashed y'all! but I wanted to post this fic as my birthday gift and i made it somehow wohoo.. ignore the typos lol, i'll come back and edit. i was racing against time.

if you like the fic please comment, reblog or send an ask! comment below to be added to the taglist

taglist- @skzbangchanniee @everythingboutkpop @fxckingshame @ariananotgrandeee @veryveryveryberry

[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

~*~

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?

~*~

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.)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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!

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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)

~*~

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

[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

[puckthisshift]

2024 Writing Wrap Up

I blame @sportspuckball and @fleurywiththesave for me posting this. Thanks wonderful friends.

I published 14 fics this past year, and still I somehow feel like I didn't have a productive year. I'm that person, I guess. It's mostly MattDrai, with the exception of one Sens fic (because I'm also that person).

All fics below the cut

MattDrai

One-shots

act like I don't care what you did (E, 6.4k): Matthew had grabbed Draisaitl’s thigh mostly by accident, but he wasn’t going to let that asshole know about that. But after making some promises, he finagles a bid for the winner’s room so he can deliver. And then some. How else is a guy supposed to get an apology out of Draisaitl?

I was done, the deal was signed (M, 41k): A marriage pact made between rivals was never meant to come to fruition. But in 2032, Leon Draisaitl is playing one last season, hoping to finally win a cup. He didn't expect Matthew Tkachuk to even remember the pact, let alone to hold him to it. And he definitely didn't expect happily ever after.

lift your hearts to the horizon (M, 14k): In which Matthew slut-shames Leon’s wandering heart, Leon makes declarations like the romance novel hero he is, and we ignore the rules of physics in favor of magic.

make this bed get squeaky (E, 8.7k): The Oilers win their series against the Flames and Leon feels like he deserves a reward. Showing up at Tkachuk’s house for a booty call feels like the natural next step.

no one's ever had me (not like you) (E, 17k): Matthew gets drafted by the Oilers knowing that if he makes the show, he’ll be expected to mate with one of the unmated Alphas. And Matthew wants to have it all: sex and hockey and a baby - and there’s only one Alpha he wants that with.

something happens when everybody finds out (T, 3.8k): Matthew had a plan for how to tell his family about his boyfriend. This wasn’t it.

welcome to the family business, you're already in this (M, 10k): The handshake line has one life-changing revelation for Leon Draisaitl.

when I just did my makeup so nice (E, 9.6k): Leon sneaks out of the team hotel and into a queer club. He doesn't expect to meet his dream guy, all dressed up and ready for Leon to make a mess of. For Leon, being down bad is an understatement.

you don't know why, but you're dying to try (E, 9.3k): The pissiest guy on earth visits the happiest place on earth in the summer of 2016. He keeps running into this annoying teenager while in line. With a little help from a mermaid princess, the pissy prince might even… kiss the boy.

you'll find that you were never not mine (T, 10k): Leon goes from moping over his ex beating him to the Cup to flying to St. Louis in the hopes of getting another shot at their relationship. All because of one single emoji

Multichapter and series

catch me, I'm falling (E, 9.8k): Matthew wakes up alone and confused the morning after saying Red to his one-night stand. He’s planning on going right to Biosteel Camp, but someone demands to take care of him.

And its partner flying head-first into fate (M, 4k): Leon just wanted Tkachuk's attention. He hadn't expected to get the honor of taking care of him when he was so vulnerable.

raise you to be good (E, 45k): This is our pack. Kat found it all on her own. It’s little, and broken, but it’s still good. More than good. It might be the best thing that’s ever happened to Matthew.

Chabby/Josh

Lentement (E, 2.1k): Josh is going to get what he wants. Chabby happens to be what he wants. Who he wants. Would be kind of nice to figure out what the fuck Chabby wants from him though.