#For not rushing into Christmas in November

[windsweptinred]

Uppermill, Lancashire, England Nov. 23

[karliahs]

it is done!! at last!! not technically my first time making a cardigan, but first time making one that isn't basically just a big square, and first time doing buttons

shoutout to my mother for commenting multiple times on the bright grassy green cardigan someone in a show we watched was wearing & how hard it is to find things in that colour. made it real easy to know what to do for her birthday

pattern + yarn

[eunhos]

.

[vegan-peppermint]

Frost and Flour

Pairing: Krampus!konigx reader

Cw: size kink, power play, slight cnc, breeding;

Inspired by this post.

Summery: in your village, men would dress as monsters on Christmas stealing women and children and run around the town. Your krampus had other ideas.

Did not proof read, I saw this post yesterday and tried to speed run this fic for it to be ready before Christmas. Might be bad and rushed. Will edit after new years.

Word count: 4k

The snow fell thick and soft, blanketing the jagged peaks of the mountains like a heavy quilt. The air was sharp and bracing, scented faintly with pine and the smoky warmth of wood-burning stoves. This was the village of your childhood Christmases, a place where the world seemed smaller, quieter, and steeped in old traditions. Nestled deep in the heart of the mountains, it felt like a hidden pocket of time where the modern world dared not intrude.

Traditions are the heart of the holidays, the thread that weaves magic into the season and shapes the way people celebrate. In every corner of the world, they bring warmth and wonder: streets lit up with strands of melted honey, the soft glow of advent candles peaking through the frosty windows and the -oh too comforting- aroma of cookies baking in old family kitchens.

But this village had its own unique tradition, one that set it apart from the glittering cities and quaint holiday fairs elsewhere. Here, Christmas wasn't just about warmth and cheer, it carried a shadow, a reverence for the old ways—

both enchanting and a little haunting.

When winter arrived and snow blanketed the wooden rooftops, the young people who had left for the city always hurried back to their childhood homes. So did you. This year, you came earlier than most, arriving in November to help at your family’s bakery. The holiday season brought plenty of special orders, far too much for your grandmother’s old hands to handle alone.

As your hands kneaded the cookie dough behind the counter, your mind was heavy with thoughts and debates. The life you’d built back in the States wasn’t bad���a steady job, a cozy apartment near the city center—but as the warmth of this small, close-knit community enveloped you, a cold stone pressed heavily in your chest. Before sinking any deeper, the bell on the door jingled.

"Hello! Welcome to Frost and Flour, how can I help you today?" you greeted with a cheerful smile.

The man—who, no doubt, had to bow his head to fit through the doorframe—returned the smile, his lips barely visible beneath a fluffy green wool scarf.

"Hallo," his voice came out muffled, the words soft behind the thick fabric. Snowflakes clung to his blonde hair, drifting down like sugar crystals. He shook his head with a swift motion, trying to flick them off, and the gesture reminded you of a puppy entering your shop on a snowy day.

You recognized him, yet you couldn't really match the face to the name. He was the son of the lovely, old woman living on your street, Frau Lieder. Unlike her son, who resembled the mountains that surrounded your village rather than a man, Frau Lieder was as delicate as a breeze, tiny as an ant. Even though she was always quiet and humble, she'd always sit upright and proud when talking about her son, the colonel.

"It's not too late to place an order, no?" He spoke, taking his scarf off revealing his red, frozen cheeks.

"No, not at all. Come in, come in!" You encouraged quickly running to the tap to wash your hands off. "It's really freezing outside! Would you like anything warm to drink? Coffee, or tea?"

He shook his head in refusal, but the way his frozen eyelashes trembled seemed to tell a different story. "How about a coffee? I made too much for myself already," you patted your hands dry on the apron.

The man opened his mouth to protest, but you didn’t give him a chance. Gently guiding him to an empty table, you set down the coffee before him and sat down beside him, placing your own cup next to his to ease the tension. He didn’t seem eager to speak, so you attempted to fill the silence, though your words came out a little more forced than usual.

"You came a long way, didn't you? You look like a snowman," you remarked, trying to break the ice.

He only hummed in response, a soft sound, and you hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "Want sugar in your coffee?"

"It's fine like this, thank you," he said, his voice calm but distant.

An awkward silence settled between you both, thick and uncomfortable. He looked tired so you decided to give up. Not everyone wants to chit-chat, you understood that.

"So, what do you want to order?" You got right to the point.

"Oh, Ja... I need two Stollen," he replied.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that," you said, quickly moving into a list of other things you could offer. You kept talking, listing the flavors and sweet treats, drifting in how they were made and why you made them the best. He seemed taken aback by your sudden burst, but after a while, you saw him relax. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs comfortably, and took another sip of his coffee, the steam rising around him like a cloud. His icy blue eyes didn’t leave you as you talked, causing your words to spill faster. They were fixed on you with a piercing intensity, scanning your every expression.

"So I think you should really add the chocolate cookies- we also make them vegan if that's the case-"

"That sounds good," he finally said, agreeing to the order. You jotted it down quickly.

"Great choice, I'll throw in some samples of the others as well!" You grinned, excited for people to try your new recipes.

The cups were filled with coffee still. You lingered as much as you could, writing as to avert his eyes. What's up with people with blue eyes and staring like that? You could still feel his gaze on you as you re-read the same 5 items for the thousandth time.

You shifted in your seat, unsure of what to do with yourself. He seemed to notice, and you caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful tease.

You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. "No, just... not used to quiet customers," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He hummed, just as you were accustomed. You stood up quickly, feeling the need to escape the weight of the silence, and found something to occupy yourself behind the counter, fiddling with a few stray utensils. The soft clink of ceramic was the only sound until, after a moment, he spoke. "You going to the Christmas fest tonight?" His voice was low, almost secretive.

"Yeah, so excited," you replied with a laugh, grateful for the change in topic. "It’s the reason I came all this way!"

"Me too," he said solemnly, and something familiar downed on you. That’s when it hit you. "You're the one dressing as Krampus, aren't you?" you exclaimed, a bit too eagerly.

The surprise on his face was brief, quickly replaced by an expression that matched your own newfound curiosity. "I—I remember you," you added, turning to face him, a rush of memories flooding back. "Last year, I brought my younger sister too—you stole her and lifted her up in the air—swinging her around. She loved it so much."

"Ah, seems like I did a shit job—kids are supposed to be afraid of me," he chuckled.

You thought about the scary outfit he'll wear tonight, the furs that will coat his big back doubling him in size. How he'll run around, stalking and shouting- you couldn't help but hope he will be chasing you as well.

"Being punished by Krampus sounds pretty good, to be honest—"

You caught yourself too late, the words already hanging awkwardly between you. Maybe if you played dead, he’d just walk away, pretend nothing happened. You refused to acknowledge what you’d said, refusing to even glance at him. Faking a heart attack or any kind of medical emergency sounded plausible—anything to escape the tension creeping up your spine. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

A Christmas miracle happened right in that moment as an elderly customer entered the shop.

"Welcome to Frost and Flour! How can I help you?" You beamed without skipping a beat, grateful you didn't have to start choking or throw yourself on the floor.

As you listened to the customer and answered his questions, you felt a heavy set of eyes pressing down on your frame. You didn't look at him again, tried really hard not to. He finished his coffee, got up, and left without saying a word. At the last possible moment, the second between the door hitting the frame, his eyes met yours for one last time. And as the door shut with a loud thud, leaving a sudden silence in its wake, you realized you hadn't asked for his name. You looked down at the empty line left at the bottom of his order and wrote:

Krampus.

The sun set down, the sky turned from blue to orange and back to blue again. You had met with some friends at the small Christmas market, wandering around the little wooden shops that lined the square. Laughter and chatter filled the chilly air as you and your friends picked up festive Christmas toys, nibbled on gingerbread, and sipped warm drinks. The air was alive with the sound of the Christmas choir, their voices drifting through the market and adding a touch of magic to the evening.

As time passed and the night grew darker, the atmosphere shifted. The carolers’ songs faded and adults began to gather around the tables, glasses in hand. It wasn’t long before Krampuses started appearing, stalking through the crowd. The sound of children screaming and running to their parents echoed through the square, while some men pretended to be brave, stepping forward to protect their girlfriends. You couldn’t help but laugh as some of your friends found themselves the prey of a particularly mischievous Krampus, who chased them with exaggerated growls, making the whole scene feel like a playful dance between fear and festivity.

"What's wrong?" Your friend asked through laughter. "Come on, why they long face?"

You suddenly became aware of your thoughtful expression and quickly excused yourself. You had been thinking about your Krampus- both embarrassed and hopeful to see him again. "You better cheer up soon, or the krampus will get you!" Another friend teased.

The air was suddenly filled with the deep, resonant thud of drums, each beat like a heartbeat pounding through the square. A group of men pushed their way through the crowd, their rhythmic movements sharp and precise, their boots striking the cobblestones with deliberate thuds. Their dance was primal and hypnotic, an echo of something ancient and untamed. Behind them, two towering Krampuses loomed, their enormous cowbells clanging with a deafening ring that sent shivers through the crowd. Draped in heavy, fur-lined cloaks that swayed with each step, their grotesque masks twisted into demonic faces that seemed to leer at anyone who dared to meet their gaze. The crowd recoiled instinctively, a ripple of nervous laughter and gasps breaking the tension as the Krampuses stalked forward, commanding both fear and awe.

The main drummer, the same one who had parted the crowd in two, struck his drum with a horrendous bang that swallowed all other noise. In unison, the crowd fell silent, their collective breath caught in their chests. Yet, despite the stillness, a distant rhythm lingered in the air—a pulsing thrum that echoed: the rapid, heavy pounding of every heart present.

Thud!

The crowed took a step back in anticipation as the Krampuses looked around hungrily.

Thud! Thud!

The beats served as a count down, a warning and threat before the krampuses will be set free. You were too mesmerized by the show that you haven't realized you were being watched.

Thud! Thud! THUD!

That's when you noticed the taller monster staying still, focusing on you. Shivers creeped unbidden down your spine, cold and sharp, leaving goosebumps as they passed. Your stomach plummeted, a hollow, twisting ache of dread settling deep within you, even before your gaze met his. You didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize it was him—undeniably, inescapably him.

The rhythmic pounding of the drums grew faster, more frantic, but the meaning escaped you, lost in the haze of your thoughts. Blurred figures rushed past, their panicked shouts blending into something you barely registered. Shoulders slammed into you, hands shoved, voices screamed, everything—the chaos, the fear, the blinding motion—blurred and faded, except for that mask. That awful, looming mask. Its hollow gaze pinned you in place, your focus narrowing until it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Then, like the sharp crack of a pin dropping onto glass, the veil lifted. The muffled roars of the crowd became deafening, the banging and fireworks thundered in your ears, and the swell of scared people pressed against you, pulling you back into reality.

Run.

The word tore through your mind, an instinct louder than the drums, louder than the crazy fantasies you had. Run. You have to run.

The adrenaline hit you in full force, blood pumping hot through your veins as your feet pounded against the uneven ground. The small, twisted streets were making it harder for you, but you didn’t dare look back—you didn’t need to. You knew he was there. You could feel it, like a cold breath on the back of your neck.

You knew in the moment you broke eye contact, the second your body shifted to flee, he was already moving. His feet swept through the mud, closing the distance with the precision of a predator. He wasn’t chasing—you realized, with a spike of fear—he was hunting.

Exhaustion hit you hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your legs felt like lead, slowing to a near halt. Your body begged for rest, and you made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder. The street was empty—silent. No sign of him, nothing but the faint echo of your own heavy breathing. As you huffed in relief, grateful for the brief moment of peace, a hand clamped down on your waist, and another shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the scream you let out instinctively.

It all happened so fast, the way he grabbed you and spun you on his shoulder as if you weighted nothing. He ran away with you through the crowds, some people cheered and others ran away in fear of being the next victim. He ran past the crowds, past the houses and the gardens. The snow was getting higher and the lights were getting dimmer as the two of you strayed further from the towns fest.

No matter how much you screamed or how many questions you'd ask, he'd remain silent, eyes straight ahead not minding you at all.

"Please, stop! Put me down!" you begged for what felt like the hundredth time.

This time, he paused. With a grunt, he hurled you onto the snow-covered ground, your body colliding with the icy surface.

"You make so much noise," he growled, his voice low and rough. "I wonder how much louder you can get."

You stumbled onto your feet but the slippery ground betrayed you as you slipped again. Above you, the massive figure loomed, his imposing horns casting jagged shadows across the snow.

Your eyes were getting watery and your lip began to tremble. You were scared- your heart thumping and body trembling, that was fear. But the excitement that grew in your stomach and the urge to rub your legs against each other were something else entirely.

"Please," you whispered as a last plea, curling up as to make yourself as small as possible.

"Don't play dumb with me, little one. You deserve to be punished, you'll take what I'll give you and say thank you," he said.

Your eyes moved frantically from his mask to his muddy boots, then up his legs to the hard erection visible through his black pants before meeting the black holes where eyes were supposed to be.

"Please," you cried out doe eyed not sure what you were begging for.

The beast fell to his knees with a heavy sound making you flinch. You tried to push yourself further, but his strong hand grabbed at your ankle harshly. He dragged you by the foot, your skirt rising up as your ass slided on the cold snow. He let go of your leg, hand moving to your inner knee, slowly dragging his nails up your thigh.

"So sensitive," he coes when your skin reacts so eagerly to his touch. You instinctively grabbed at his hand which hovered above your panties. He paused his movement, seemingly amused at your attempt. "Go on," he leaned closer, covering your body with his own, the mask mere inches from your face. "Fight back," he breathed out a threat. "Try and fight me off, little lamb."

His hand slapped your clothed pussy, the weak attempt at a stopping him completly ignored. You let out a loud moan at the sudden feeling of pain.

His calloused hand started rubbing up and down the thin fabric. The daunting realization of how wet being hunted down like pray made you hit you as the panties became drenched.

"Aren't you ashamed?" He teased, fiddling with the zipper of his pants, tugging them just enough to free his large cock. "Being violated gets you this wet, Schatz?"

You whimper and squirm trying to get away from his touch, thriwing your hands at him- scratching and grabbing at his horns and neck.

Pathetic. That’s the only word for it. You know you’re not trying to escape or fight back. No, you’re just edging him on, hoping he'll snap and take out all his built up anger on you.

He easily grabs your wrists in one rapid motion. No matter how much you'd try, pulling with your whole body and then some, his grip would effortlessly stay the same.

"I'm going to fuck you," he announced pinning your hands above your head with one hand. "You will cry and scream and plead- and you will swallow every inch I give you."

He pulled your panties to the side placing his angry tip at the entrance. In the dead of night, under the midnight sky the lewd, wet sound of his dick spreading your juices was so loud.

No waiting, he pushed himself inside your throbbing cunt splitting you open.

"F-Fuck," you plead. "T-Too big, 's too big!" Your gummy walls stretch around his girth, causing your to choke in pain. The resistance slowly fades away as your cunt leaks more with every shallow thrust as he fills you up in ways you've never thought were possible.

"You can take it," he hissed, allowing you to adjust to his size. His cock was throbbing inside of you, pulsating eagerly. "You feel that? Feel what you do to me? I'm so hard for you, Schatz. Don't you wanna make me feel good?"

"Agh~," you cry out as you feel more of his size slipping inside your wet cunt. He let's go of his tight grip bringing one of your hands down to your stomach. His hand on top of yours as he's bullying his cock inside you. You feel him moving, the buldge in your stomach rising and lowering in sync with his thrusts. He growled loudly as you spammed around his dick so soon, moaning loudly and rolling your eyes in the back of your head, finally allowing him complete access as you cum on his fat cock.

"You're the tightest cunt I've fucked in a long time," he said bringing his hands on your hips angling you slightly better. His balls were hanging on your ass and his tip was pushing twords your womb.

If you could think straight, you'd be embarrassed of cumming just from being filled, of the moans and gasps you made with every inch he gave you. But the warmth of the village is distant and the ground behind your back is freezing, you need him- his warmth- to keep the cold from swallowing you whole.

Through teary eyes, you look at him. The faint light spilling from the village clings to his mask and coat, tracing his silhouette in an otherworldly glow, as if he were carved from shadow and firelight. He is no longer just a man draped in beast's clothes;

And yet, his gaze lingers on you, heavy and unreadable, somewhere between a silent threat or solemn apology.

It started slowly, dragging his member out then pushing it back in with slightly more forced than before. Your whole body was pressed deeper into the ground, head bobbling to his increasing rhythm.

One if his hands reached up to your chest, cupping one of your breast through the cotton material of your dress, the other digging into the side of your hip. He found your hardend nipple with ease, rubbing it between his fingers. He'd pinch and drag them only to see them bounce more viciously.

"Shush," he'd scold through heavy breaths. "If you keep moaning like that people will hear you. They'll see you spread wide getting your pussy stuffed, is that what you want?"

When his words were only getting you more riled up, he'd let go of your hips moving it to your loud mouth. He fell onto of you, his heavy body crushing your smaller frame, one hand desperately pulling at your tits while the other pressing hard on your mouth. He pounded into you like a man starved, abusing your needy hole.

You looked so pretty right now, your Krampus thought behind his mask. Your face was flushed, your eyelashes sticking together from tears. Strands of hair, damp from the snow melting behind you, clung to your face, yet your eyes were hazed with pleasure. He got you like this, so pathetic and cock drunk. You tried to say something but your words were muffled.

"Shut up, just a little- a little longer longer-," he sounded desperate, a change in his steady demeanor. "You'll take all I give you, every last drop of cum- Fuck- I'll pump you full of cum, you horny bitch," he groand against your neck, thrusting into you deeper than before.

He fucked you through his orgasm, cock twitching and slaming hot cum inside your cunt, a white ring foaming where your body met.

He fucked you through your orgasm, his dick barelling into you making sure you won't spill a drop of this gift he had given you.

Your legs were shaking around him, hands dirty and tired from clawing at the ground. His chest rumbled against your own.

After he pulled out, he shoved his fingers in its place- pushing his cum deep into you. You'd lick them clean afterwards, after he pulled you back on your feet. Your eyes tried to find his behind the devil mask, as his fingers explored your mouth.

You didn't.

The night didn’t feel as cold as before, the stars no longer just wishes in the sky, but silent witnesses to everything that had unfolded. You didn’t dare move, or speak—not before he would at least. You tensed, waiting for words that never came, as he grabbed you with an eerie calm, lifting you once more, just as he had in the beginning

[lovemomhatepolice]

(my) world champion - max verstappen

navigation taglist requests

pairing: max verstappen x fem! reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, p in v, pet names, English is my second language!

type: smut!with small plot

word count: 2k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER, las vegas gp

summary: it's time to deal respectively with the winner of the fourth championship

more content: formula 1 masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

a/n: I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and my first thousand celebration

Las Vegas was noisier than ever before. Bright lights and colorful neon signs lit up the paddock. Noise caused by people who were celebrating. The night was amazing - and although Russell, Hamilton and Sainz stood on the podium, the eyes of most were on Max Verstappen. Vegas was not in his favor, but what it gave him was a fourth championship title.

Fireworks burst in the distance, showering the sky in golden sparkles. Cameras flashed, champagne sprayed, and his Red Bull team surrounded him with hugs and cheers. But through the chaos, Max’s eyes searched for only one person.

And then he saw you.

You stood on the side, waiting for Max to finish celebrating with his team. You were as happy as ever, wearing a jacket with his name on it, which you proudly displayed. This was your second time to stand by Max's side, celebrating with him this greatest of all possible victories. This year it was even more exciting - after all, there were as many as seven race winners, while the year before, besides your boyfriend, only two managed to break through.

Max walked away from his team, making his way through the reporters who insisted on getting his attention at least for a moment. When he reached you, the noise around you faded into the background. You smiled at each other, simply standing and looking into each other's eyes. It didn't take much to realize how close and important you are to each other.

“You made it,” you said quietly, and your voice trembled with emotion as you reached out to touch his face. “Four times, Max. You're amazing.”

He smiled, and adrenaline was still bubbling inside him as he drew you into his arms. “We did it,” he corrected, his voice muffled by your hair. “I couldn't have done it without you. All this time you've shown me that I'm more than just a man driving around the track”

“Oh stop, or my makeup will run off,” you laughed lightly, pulling away from him just enough to look into his eyes. Max focused all his attention on you. He didn't give a damn that there were people around who he should be interviewing. He didn't give a damn that there was even more formal business ahead of him. The moment he had you in his arms, he thought of nothing else. “And to me you'll still be the most beautiful,” he muttered, smiling at you. His hands moved to your cheeks and without a rush, he drew you even closer to him. Your lips joined in a sweet kiss. Your hands wandered over his collar from the suit he was still wearing. In the background you could hear cheers and photographers taking pictures of you, but this time it didn't bother you, you were already used to it. As soon as you felt his smile against your lips, you moved slightly away from him, but your foreheads were still connected.

"I love you the most, Max"

~~~

Inside the luxurious suite, Max reclined on the plush sofa, sliding his head onto the backrest. The faint clink of the champagne glass in your hand caught his eye and elicited a small smile as he looked in your direction.

“You did it again,” you muttered, and your voice was filled with admiration. “Four times. You make it look so easy.”

Max couldn't take his eyes off you. And even though you were already without makeup and your hair was already slightly curled, he thought you were the most beautiful thing that evening. You were wearing his shirt from the celebration, which was too big for you, but that was the whole charm. Surrounded by the lights of the city, you headed toward him.

“Easy?” he laughed, crossing his gaze with yours. “Certainly not with you distracting me from the side.”

You giggled quietly, setting your glass down on the table, then sat on his lap. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, combing through the faint stubble. “You love it,” you purred close to his lips until they met in the process.

“I love you,” Max replied, and his hands found their way to your hips, quickly finding a rhythm together.

Max's hands explored your body, memorizing every curve, just as he memorizes every turn of the track. Each kiss was unhurried, each touch purposeful, as if you had all the time you needed for each other.

Max's fingers entwined in your hair, tugging gently as your lips clung to his. The faint taste of champagne lingered between you, reminding you of the celebration just hours ago. This time the kiss was deeper, hungrier, as if you were pouring all the emotions bubbling inside you into it. His hands slid lower, grasping your buttocks and pulling you closer until there was no more space between you.

You didn't even notice when you found yourself in the middle of the bed in your hotel bedroom. It was even darker here, with only the golden lights from the street illuminating the room.

“You are mine tonight,” he said, his voice firm but laced with tenderness as he laid you gently on the large bed, his body pressing against yours.

“I've always been yours, Max,” you replied, and your voice trembled with both love and anticipation. “And I always will be.”

Max's eyes softened, and his intense gaze stopped on you as his hands roamed your body, each touch igniting the fire between you. He took his time, savoring every moment, every reaction - your sharp breath, the way your back arched under his touch, the way your hands gripped his as if you couldn't bear to let go.

You didn't wait any longer. In a heated kiss, your hands reached the faucets of his shirt, exposing his trained chest. You stopped your gaze on him for a moment, looking hungrily at your boyfriend.

Max smiled at your reaction, his confidence rising as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your collarbone. “Do you like what you see?" he teased you in a low and hoarse voice, causing you to shudder.

“Mhm,” you muttered, rising slightly from the bed.

Now the two of you were in one straight line, looking into each other's eyes. The room was filled with your uneven breathing, which grew louder with each passing moment. You could see that the way you were moving at the same time forcing Max to lie down on the bed by himself, as you had moments before, was bringing him out of the control he had just built up for himself. Rarely did Max lose control, and she relished the power she had over him at that moment.

You moved your hands down his torso, and your fingers followed the hard lines of his abdomen, tracing the contours with a slow, deliberate touch that made him breathe rapidly.

Your hands quickly found their way to the buckle of his pants, unbuttoning them as quickly as you removed his shirt. Along with his pants went his boxers, too, freeing him all over. His excitement was already evident, and the way your eyes lit up with mischief made his chest tighten. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a perfect view of you.

“You're too good for me,” muttered Max, his voice strained as you wrapped your hand around him. Your touch was light and teasing, too much for him.

“You deserve it,” you replied, then leaned in to place a kiss on the tip of him, and your tongue slid out to taste him.

Max's head fell back against the pillows behind him, and a low moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth. Your movements were slow and deliberate at first, and your tongue swirled around him as you explored every inch of him.

“God, you're perfect,” muttered Max, entwining his hands in your hair as you took him deeper.

You set a steady rhythm, your hand working at pace with your lips, looking at him through your lashes. The sight of you in such a state, so eager to please him, made his stomach clench with desire.

“That's right,” he groaned, and his voice was filled with pleasure.

Encouraged by his reaction, you increased your pace, your movements becoming more confident as you puffed out your cheeks and let him slide deeper into your throat. Max's hips moved involuntarily, and his body was overwhelmed by the sensations as he muttered curses under his breath. You licked slowly along his length, and your eyes never left his face.

You felt him approaching the edge, so you slowed down and your lips slowly moved away from his. Max hissed under his breath, looking at you with a mischievous smile, in which displeasure also prevailed.

“Don't be like that,” he muttered, looking at your lips next to his craving red member.

You giggled quietly before taking it back into your mouth, your tongue working expertly as you brought it closer to the edge. Max's breaths became faster, and his grip on your hair tightened as his muscles tensed. Max's moans soon gave their vent, his body trembled, and your mouth flooded with his cum. You swallowed it all, and your hands continued to work around him, helping him come down through the aftershocks.

Max was quickly over you, leaving you no longer in any clothes. His movements were quick and decisive, but gentle on you. It was as if he had the greatest prize in front of him, and yet it wasn't long before he won something else.

There was a warm smile on his lips and his body tensed from restrained desire. His weight pressing you against the plush mattress was grounding, but every touch made you float. His hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin with just enough pressure to leave a memory, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you.

His movements were slow at first. He tried to pick the perfect pace for you, but he didn't speed anything up, gently teasing you, seeing as you were impatiently pushing your own hips out to meet him. You arched your back, and his body instinctively pressed you against him. Max kissed you tenderly, but at the same time it was very intense, even making you dizzy - the best of your life. His hands moved over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and waist, trying to memorize every little part of your body, even though he already knew it so perfectly. Like a favorite circut he was never wrong on.

“God, [Y.N.],” he breathed, his voice strained as he tried to maintain control.

Max shifted slightly, adjusting your position to push in deeper, hitting a spot that made you moan into the hollow of his neck, and your fingers quickly went to his neck, pressing him harder against you.

“Let me,” he muttered, looking into your eyes. “I've got you.”

His hand wandered between the two of you, circling around your swollen clit, which was begging for attention. Because of the feelings you were experiencing, you practically screamed into his neck, crying from the pleasure. His words were your undoing.

The orgasm gripped you so hard that your body trembled under his heavier muscular body, which continued to smell of champagne. You clung to him, and your breathing picked up speed, turning into desperate gasps. Max came a moment after you, spilling inside you and creating quite a mess on the mattress beneath you.

You were both panting loudly, trying to catch your breath, but all you were able to do was laugh quietly. Max placed gentle kisses all over your face, ending with your lips. In his eyes flashed those beautiful skylights you hadn't seen in a long time through the pursuit of mastery.

“I've got you champion,” you purred, kissing him once again on the lips and smiling at the same time.

You could finally have a break from all the hype for a while, until the next season, where everything was going to start all over again, as it had for the past few years.

“For you I would even be able to give up the title,” he muttered, looking into your eyes.

And even though you didn't want to believe it, let alone for it to be true - you knew he was sincere.

A/N: God, I won't even hide how much I already want to end the season of smut. i have so many cool fluff stories that i want to publish!!! but it's my first time writing for max - i hope it went well

although I kept my fingers firmly crossed for Lando in this battle for the title of champion - congratulations to Max, he deserved it! May the next season bring us as much excitement as this one

I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and in my celebration to the first thousand!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[comyet]

Do you think you’ll ever open your shop back up? I yearn for stickers!!!

Aw thanks so much!! I hit a big online shop burnout last November and chose to put it on hold in favor of cons this year, but I think I'd like to open it back up somewhere between Feb and April! (basically after the big Christmas rush)

I won't have Prism products but I'll have plenty of bird, knights, FE3H, BG3 and Zelda things (and all my prints that I never put up on the shop) 💛💛💛

[menyuui]

JUST A LITTLE LONGER

༉‧₊˚. synopsis. you and remus break up because neither of you knows how to be honest about their feelings #flops

༉‧₊˚. tags. remus lupin, remus lupin x reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt to comfort, inaccurate hogwarts layouts, ooc maruaders era characters, lowkey rich!remus lupin, headcanoning him as coming from money i dont give a gaf, plot holes asf

༉‧₊˚. notes. this is my first ever fic and also i wrote it at 3 am and it took me 5 hours i literally have not slept so i apologize for inconsistencies and inaccuracies and also my poor unedited grammar and spelling pls forgive me also the ending and kind of the whole this is so rushed sorry i literally wrote this on my phone while bed rotting pls forgive me

REMUS LUPIN, had asked you out in the winter of sixth year, minutes before you boarded separate trains to go home for the holidays. he'd come running down your platform, coat buttoned to the top, hair a mess, juggling three different suitcases, how could you possibly say no to such a display?

to be entirely honest at that point you had been waiting weeks for remus to gain the courage to ask you out and you said 'yes!' faster than you'd like to admit but you'd live the embarrassment a billion times over if it meant you got to end up with remus in the end.

he had spent months courting you, planning dates and activities and introducing you to his tight knit group of friends, not to mention the years he had already spent pining after you (not that he'd ever confess that truth to you). with all the effort he had put in to getting you to date him you're not sure how you ended up here, like this. seventh year had started off so well, fresh off the train after spending the last week of summer at the lupin estate while remus's parents conducted business overseas. it seemed like you two were more in love than ever before, if that was even possible, so why wouldn't remus just tell you he was a werewolf?

it's nearing the end of november and remus and his friends were off on a 4 day "study group field trip", an excursion that they somehow convinced professor mcgonagall to go along with. you knew what that meant though, it meant that the full moon was coming up and remus would be spending the next couple of days in the hospital wing with only the company of madame pompfrey his aching body. last month it had been an impromptu trip to james's childhood home, the month before the four of them had all conveniently caught the flu and could not see you under any circumstances out of fear of spreading their infection. every month before that since you had begun dating was excuse after excuse, and you weren't sure how much more you could take.

you had become privy to remus's secret two months after your relationship began. you were never stupid, far from it, in fact you were always quite perceptive so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone when you figured out what your boyfriend was trying to hide. it was easy to figure out the remaining players in the game after you uncovered the secret. obviously james, sirius, and peter had known, but it seems along with the three of his closest friends, lily evans was also let in on the confidential matter.

nothing changed for you after you had found out. you loved remus, you still love remus, nothing would ever change that.

so why won't he just be honest with you?

for as long as you could you staved off thinking about it any further than the surface level. you pushed the thoughts and doubts deep inside your mind, never letting yourself steep on it long enough to actually feel bad about it. until now, the christmas holiday was rapidly approaching, just mere weeks away, which also meant that your one year anniversary was just around the corner. your parents had been begging you to bring him home for the holiday, even if just one day could be spared, they just wanted to meet him. all of sudden, all the thoughts you had been avoiding had been pushed to the forefront of your mind.

despite your best efforts, your endless sleepless nights of attempted rationalization, and your undying love for your boyfriend, you could only come up with one answer as to why your boyfriend wouldn't let you in on his inner-inner circle:

he was going to break up with you.

to practical anyone else who knew the two of you, this would never even be thought possible.

but to you? it was the only possible reason.

it all made sense, obviously the marauders would know, they were his lifelong friends, practically his brothers. and of course lily would know, she was james's soulmate. all these people who knew he had let in on his secret were guaranteed to be in his life forever, which could only mean that you weren't.

so that's where you find yourself, on the last day of your boyfriend's montly disappearing act, worn down from the lack of sleep and the excess of worry, dreading the end of your relationship.

if you could have it your way the relationship would never end. you were completely sure that remus lupin was the only man you were ever going to love, but where you saw a future, remus only saw an opportunity to have one last school romance before he got started on his real life.

meanwhile in the hospital wing . . .

"i simply don't understand why you can't just tell her moony?!" sirius was fed up with his friend, the events of the previous full moon fueling his annoyance.

remus rolled his eyes and turned over in the creaky hospital bed, groaning at the added pressure on his bruised ribbed but grateful to be hidden away from sirius's glare.

sirius could just strangle remus right now.

"ughhhh!!! you're so-" remus wasn't looking at him but he knew that sirius was shaking his fists in anger while james and peter looked on amusedly.

james attempted to ease the situation, "alright come off him padfoot, the poor lad's just been through the wringer." his efforts not in vain as sirius mumbled a quick "whatever." before turning away from the trio of his friends.

"he's right though." james added with a tight lip.

this caused remus to roll his eyes once more, "get out." he groaned, clamping his pillow over his ears in frustration.

james lowly chuckled at his distressed friend, while attempting to soothe sirius who had just let out a scoff. peter looked at the pair as if to say 'let me try', before scooting onto the edge of remus's bed.

"remus...as annoying as sirius is," he started, giving sirius a pointed glare, "i think it would help us understand better, if you just told us why you don't want her to know."

when remus remained unmoving and silent under the protection of the pillow over his face, peter shrugged. james and sirius let out a quiet sigh, nearly giving up on an explanation when remus's mumbling cut them off. from beneath his pillow he spoke a brief and muffled statement, unintelligible to even his best friends.

"what?" sirius demanded with a judgemental eyebrow raised.

remus lifted the pillow off his face, tucking it under his head once more. still with his head turned away from the group he sighed deeply, "if i tell her...she's going to leave me."

a silence overtook the quartet. they all knew this had long been remus's greatest fear. flashbacks to nights post-full moons comforting a sobbing and broken remus as he begged for someone to just end the misery that was his existence. he'd long known he was destined for a life alone, bouncing between the couches of his best friends and their future partners and eventual children. this was the way it had to be. until you said yes, your mere presence made remus feel like he was being pulled out of the pits of hell.

but remus wasn't an idiot, he was on the verge of graduating and he had to be honest with his reality. you weren't meant for this life, this darkness, not when you were so kind, so pure. it was never going to last.

"you don't know that remus." peter stated as-a-matter-a-factly. and he meant it too, peter liked you, he really liked you. you had always been nice to him, and funny, and you made a real effort to get along with them, which he knows can be hard. he had faith in you.

remus cut off his mental praise with a cynical laugh, "yes i do."

peter didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to comfort his friend. james thought that he did.

"then she's not the one for you!" james encouraged. it did little to soothe remus's aching heart. somewhere deep inside him remus knew you were, the one for him. he loved you so dearly and he knew you loved him the same, he just couldn't stand the thought of you looking at him differently.

he knew it had to end. but was it so selfish of him to just want a little bit more time with you. seventh year was nearly half way through, remus would let you go after hogwarts, free to live and love like you deserved. he had come to terms with the fact that 10 years down the line when he was long gone that there would be some lucky fella who got you to fall for him bent over a crib carrying a baby with the eyes of the girl he had once loved, so can't he just have you for a little bit longer?

remus had already begun to see the signs. you were pulling away, being more distant. you were never in your dorm, always tucked away in the potions classroom during your free time or checking out books from the restricted section of the library. he knew the end was near.

all of sudden remus had forgotten about the pain of his injuries and could only focus on the pit forming in his chest. he didn't want to talk about this anymore.

his friends had taken note of his sullen face and ceased their talking. he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and tucked his face into the stiff pillow, they got the message.

as they left the room sirius offered a, "we'll check in on you after dinner moony." his promise was left unacknowledged.

three weeks later . . .

less than a month later your worst nightmare came true. six days before holiday break began, six days before your one year anniversary, remus lupin broke up with you.

he had approached you while you were sitting by the great lake, unassuming and oblivious to your impending doom and shattered your entire world without so much as a hint of despair on his beautiful face.

in all your pain and anguish you didn't know what to say, you offered a meek "okay." scared to say more out of fear of bursting into tears.

remus took your lack of words as a clear sign of your impassiveness about the situation. a indicator of your relief to be rid of the burden that was his existence, and he turned away and left you there, sitting on the stont bench, silent tears streaming down your face.

that was five days ago. remus had departed from the school early, to get home to prepare for the arrival of his friends and his next transformation.

you, on the other hand, had retreated to the safety of your dorm room shortly after the incident at the lake and had solemnly left your room since. with practically the entire school soon to be gone home for christmas and a letter sent to your parents explaining that you'd be spending the holiday season at a "friend's" (hiding away in the safety of your bed in the walls of hogwarts) you were looking forward to getting a moment alone.

but then you heard the voices of lily and alice pass by your door, "aren't you just in such despair that your beloved james is going to be away from you for the entire holiday?" alice teased lily who laughed in embarrassment in response.

you suddenly remembered the anniversary slash christmas present you had been preparing for remus for nearly a year.

pratically flying out of bed you dropped to your knees and began digging through the trunk at the foot of your bed. when your eyes locked in on the small and neatly wrapped box at the bottom of the trunk, you hesitated for a moment. pushing down any feelings of doubt and resentment you made your way to the great hall.

you stood outside the great hall, fingers curled around the neatly wrapped gift, your pulse drumming against your ribcage. it felt heavier than it should—more than just paper and ribbon, it held pieces of what could’ve been.

the moment you stepped through the doors, the familiar laughter of james, sirius, and peter met your ears. they were huddled together at their usual spot, carefree as ever. for a brief second, you wondered if remus was already missing them.

james spotted you first, his grin faltering just slightly before he called out, "fancy seeing you here."

sirius turned, one brow arching in curiosity. "i half expected you to hex one of us on sight."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite muster a comeback. instead, you held the small box out towards them. "i—" your throat tightened. "i was hoping one of you could give this to remus."

sirius exchanged a glance with james, his expression unreadable. peter just looked between you all, silent as ever.

james took the box carefully, turning it in his hands. "is this—"

"a gift," you cut in. "it was supposed to be for him before we—well. before everything."

the silence stretched, lingering in the air between you. "you don't have to say it's from me, in fact you probably shouldn't, just say it's from one of you, it doesn't matter to me anyways. just make sure he gets it before christmas." then sirius sighed, shaking his head. "you can pretend it doesn’t matter," he said, his voice softer than you’d expected. "but it does."

you swallowed hard, looking away. "i just want him to have it."

james studied you for a moment before his grin returned—lighter now, but somehow more genuine. "consider it delivered."

relief, bittersweet as it was, spread through you. you met his gaze, offering a small, grateful smile. "thanks, james."

you turned to go, and before you could take a step, sirius called out, "you know, we’re not just his friends."

you glanced back.

"you can talk to us too," he said, a little gentler now. "if you ever want to."

you hesitated before nodding and walking away.

the next day the trio left on the train along with the rest of the school, save for a frw lonely students like yourself, and so began your holiday isolation.

christmas eve day . . .

the fireplace crackled, casting flickering light over the modest living room. outside, a fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground, muffling the sounds of the world beyond the lupins' home.

remus sat cross-legged on the floor, the warmth from the fire settling into his bones. across from him, james wrestled with a particularly stubborn ribbon on a present, while sirius lounged back against the couch, shaking a small box near his ear as if trying to decipher its contents by sound alone. peter had already unwrapped a tin of biscuits and was halfway through his second one.

remus's parents watched them with quiet amusement. hope lupin, ever the gracious host, had insisted on feeding them first, hot cocoa and freshly baked mince pies, before they even touched the presents. lyall, standing near the doorway, looked content just observing, though remus didn't miss the way his father's eyes lingered on him longer than usual, as if already steeling himself for what was to come.

"this one’s yours, moony." james nudged a parcel toward him, his grin wide and eager.

remus hesitated, then peeled the paper back, revealing a thick woolen jumper, the kind you’d expect from an old but loving grandmother, except this one was navy blue with a golden moon stitched into the chest.

sirius leaned over, inspecting it. "practical. warm. a little on the nose, if you ask me."

remus huffed a laugh, running his fingers over the embroidery. "you all planned this, didn’t you?"

peter shoved another biscuit into his mouth and shrugged. "you need it. full moon’s always brutal in winter."

hope’s smile faltered for just a moment, but she recovered quickly, reaching for another gift to pass to james. remy saw the quiet worry in her eyes, no matter how many times they did this, she’d never truly get used to it.

but tonight, for now, they could pretend.

"open mine next," sirius said, tossing a wrapped box at remus. "and don’t be gentle about it."

remus rolled his eyes but did as he was told, tearing through the paper to find—

"merlin," he breathed. "how did you even—"

sirius smirked. "you really think i’d let you go through another transformation without something decent to listen to after? it’s all the best records, charmed to play however you want. figured music would help, even if you’re too out of it to remember much."

remus swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat.

james, clearly sensing the shift in mood, clapped a hand on remus's shoulder. "we know tomorrow won’t be easy," he said. "but we’re here now. and we’ll be there then too—same as always."

the fire had burned lower now, flickering embers casting shadows along the walls as the night stretched on. gift wrappings lay in scattered piles, forgotten in the excitement of the evening, but remus hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor. something about nights like these, the quiet and warmth of shared laughter, made the inevitability of tomorrow feel just a little easier to carry.

until james cleared his throat, reaching into the pile of gifts they’d yet to hand out.

"almost forgot," he said, a little too casual, passing a small, carefully wrapped box into remus's hands. "got this for you."

remus blinked down at it, frowning. he hadn’t seen that package among the others earlier, but he tore at the wrapping anyway, uncovering a small glass vial—midnight blue liquid shifting within, thick yet unnervingly smooth.

silence settled over the room.

lyall had gone stiff.

remus stared at the potion, "what is this supposed to—"

"wolfsbane." his father was staring at the potion like it might explode. "where did you get that." lyall muttered, stepping forward, studying the liquid as though willing it to reveal some flaw. "i’ve been trying for years, and every time it’s come with unbearable side effects. this—this isn’t easy to come by, let alone brew properly."

james shifted hesitant for a moment, considering telling the truth, scratching the back of his neck. "oh you know, connections."

remus narrowed his eyes, but sirius kicked at his ankle, distracting him with a smirk. "does it matter? it’s for you. besides what even is it? like some wicked liquor or what?"

lyall shook his head, grabbing the vial and turning it slightly in his palm. "it’s meant to lessen the effects of the transformation. nearly impossible to get right. but this—" he turned the bottle again, watching the way the liquid clung smoothly to the glass. "this is perfect."

sirius opened his mouth, closed it again, then exchanged a glance with james. james stared at the potion, then at remus. then back at the potion.

peter’s eyes widened slightly.

not a single one of them spoke, but the realization settled in like a stone dropped into still water.

but remus didn’t have a clue. neither did his family.

james cleared his throat, easing his grin back into place, as if shaking off the weight of the moment. "well. guess you got lucky, moony. and i totally got jipped, thought i was getting a bargain on some extra concentrated firewhiskey."

remus rolled his eyes, cradling the vial in his palm, looking it over himself now. "yeah. guess so."

hope glanced between them all but didn’t press further.

lyall was still frowning slightly, as if running through the possibilities in his mind.

sirius nudged james sharply. james barely acknowledged it. peter just blinked, staring at the bottle again. the fire crackled, filling the quiet as remus tucked the potion carefully into his pocket, blissfully unaware of the revelation hanging in the air.

outside, the snow continued to fall. inside, the warmth remained, but it carried something heavier now. something unspoken.

the morning after the full moon was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled into the bones of the house. the fire in the hearth had burned low, and upstairs, remus was still resting, recovering.

james, sirius, and peter trudged downstairs, sluggish but grateful for the scent of breakfast wafting through the air. lyall was already at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea, looking like he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

sirius was the first to drop into a chair, stretching his arms above his head. "rough night?"

lyall huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "you lot know all too well that every full moon is. hope and i can't tell you how grateful we are for you guys."

james shrugged, remus was their friend, their best friend, taking care of him was a given, no sweat about it. grabbing a piece of toast, chewing absentmindedly he glanced at lyall. "about that potion—the wolfsbane—"

peter, still half-asleep, perked up at the mention of it.

sirius leaned forward. "you said it was nearly impossible to get right. but you've tried?"

lyall exhaled, setting his cup down. "for years," he admitted. "every time i thought i was close, it turned out worse than before. the headaches were unbearable, the nosebleeds frequent. cramps so bad i couldn’t stand some days. seizures." he paused, shaking his head slightly. "it never worked, no matter how many adjustments i made."

peter swallowed hard. "and you had to stop?"

lyall nodded. "for months. sometimes years. the toll it took, for all my love i couldn't continue."

silence fell over the kitchen only the sound of breakfast being cooked could be heard.

james stared at his toast, unmoving. sirius glanced between them all, brows knitting together. peter looked like he wanted to disappear into his seat.

the realization settled in, slow and heavy.

whoever had brewed that potion hadn’t had years to figure it out. they’d done it recently. quickly.

which meant—

sirius sat up straighter, his mouth opening slightly before closing again. james pressed his lips together, tapping his fingers against the table. peter’s expression tightened, eyes flicking toward the staircase, as if looking up toward where remus was still asleep.

you had gone through hell to make that potion.

the three of them sat with the thought, none of them daring to say it aloud.

lyall sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "whatever miracle brewed that vial, i hope it was worth it."

james forced a chuckle. "yeah," he said, voice quieter than usual. "me too." sirius reached for his tea, taking a slow sip, gaze unfocused. peter didn’t say anything at all.

outside, the frost clung to the windows, the world cold and still.

meanwhile at hogwarts . . .

the hospital wing was quiet, save for the soft clinking of vials and the occasional rustle of parchment as madame pomfrey jotted down notes. you sat perched on the edge of a bed, your posture stiff and hands trembling slightly as you clutched the edge of the blanket.

"you should’ve come to me sooner," pomfrey said, her tone stern but not unkind. she set a steaming goblet on the bedside table, the potion within swirling a pale green. "you’ve been pushing yourself far beyond the limits of a witch your age."

you swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. "i needed to finish it."

pomfrey sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. "y/n you’ve been receiving treatment for nearly a year now. headaches, nosebleeds, muscle cramps, they could've seriously harmed you."

you nodded, gaze fixed on the floor. "i—i couldn’t stop. not when i was so close."

pomfrey’s expression softened, though her worry was evident. "but darling the appearance spells? hiding the toll it’s taken on you? on your body?"

you hesitated, thinking about the months of cast appearance spells to hide your frail body littered with signs of wear, then nodded again. "no one could know. it was easier to pretend everything was fine."

pomfrey reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "you’ve done something extraordinary, but at what cost? your body needs time to recover. you can’t keep hiding this."

pomfrey studied your face for a long moment, then sighed again, standing to retrieve another vial from the cabinet. "rest. no more spells, no more pushing yourself. if you don’t take care of yourself now, there won’t be anything left to give."

you nodded, your resolve unwavering despite the exhaustion etched into your features. as pomfrey handed you the next potion, you took it without hesitation, the weight of your choices settling heavily in the quiet room.

you’re halfway through choking down the bitter potion when the door creaks open.

"thought i’d find you here."

the voice is unmistakable: smooth, lazy, edged with something sharp beneath its usual confidence.

sirius.

you freeze, setting the goblet down carefully before looking up. he stands at the entrance, arms crossed, gaze locked on you.

madame pomfrey straightens, clearly unimpressed. "mr. black, if you’re ill, i suggest you come back at a reasonable hour."

he barely acknowledges her, his focus never shifting from you.

"i’m fine," he says, but it’s directed at you, not her.

she lingers, exhaling through her nose. "five minutes. then she needs to rest."

once she disappears into her office, sirius steps forward, hands shoved into his coat pockets.

"so," he says, tilting his head, "you look like shit."

you roll your wyes, leaning back against the pillows. "i’m just...tired."

he scoffs. "right. sure. maybe that'd work on another idiot. try again."

you don’t answer.

sirius exhales sharply, pacing at the foot of your bed. "wolfsbane," he mutters. "you brewed it."

your throat tightens. "you already knew that."

he shakes his head. "we didn’t. not until lyall told us how impossible it is to brew."

the weight of his words settles deep in your chest.

sirius watches you for a long moment before he speaks again. "you’ve been practically killing yourself for nearly a year."

you don’t deny it.

"why did you even do all of that—all of this," he gestures to your ailing body, "if you were just gonna let him dump you in the end?"

you jump on the defensive, "you think i wanted to get dumped?" you quip back, angrily.

"well you didn't try very hard not to." sirius accused with a glare.

"oh fuck off sirius." you scoff.

sirius relents, "why didn't you tell him you knew? why didn't you fight for him?" he asked genuinely.

you hesitate for a moment, why didn't you fight for him? "he didn't want me anymore sirius. i can't fix that."

sirius's face flashed in bewilderment. remus lupin? not wanting you? impossible. before he could oppose you continued, "i wanted to give him the chance to tell me on his own time, like he told you and james and peter and even lily for godsake. i wanted him to come to me when he was ready, i didn't want to confront him with it, like it was some kind of accusation. i wanted him to trust me." your voice broke at the end and sirius immediately felt horrible for even slightly raising his voice at you.

"i thought that if i just gave him time, he would, but where he saw forever with you guys, he just saw for now with me. i figured that's why he never told me, what's the point in going through all the agony for some girl he never planned on keeping around anyways."

sirius couldn't believe what he was hearing. how could you be so wrong. he wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you till you understood, he wanted to scream in your face that it wasn't true, that your mind was playing tricks on you, planting seeds of doubt about a man who loved you so wholeheartedly that it could kill him, but he didn't. because that wasn't his place, it was remus's.

so instead he grabbed your hand, and sat with you in the silence of the castle for as long as he could before he had to make his was back to his friends.

back at lupin manor . . .

the house is quiet when sirius returns, the cold pressing against his back as he steps through the front door. the fire in the living room crackles softly, illuminating the space with a warm glow.

remus is exactly where he left him, curled up on the couch, blanket draped over his shoulders, looking tired but better than he did last night. his head lifts slightly at the sound of the door closing.

"didn’t think you’d be back so soon," remus murmurs, voice rough with lingering exhaustion.

sirius lets out a short laugh, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "yeah, well. didn’t feel like dragging it out."

remus shifts, turning his full attention toward him now. "how was hogsmeade?"

sirius scoffs, pulling off his coat and tossing it onto the armchair. "didn’t go."

remus frowns slightly. "thought you said you had a date."

sirius hesitates for a fraction of a second, then shrugs, like it’s nothing. "went to hogwarts instead."

remus’s brows knit together. "why?"

sirius exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before moving toward the couch, dropping onto the seat opposite remus. "to see y/n."

remus blinks, surprised. "she didn't go home for the holiday?"

sirius shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. "nope. found her in the hospital wing."

remus sits up a little straighter, something unreadable flickering in his expression. "what happened?"

sirius studies him for a long moment before speaking. "she’s been getting treated for almost a year."

remus’s lips part slightly, confusion settling in, in the year that they had dated remus never noticed her even looking vaguely ill let alone getting treated for something. "treated for what?"

sirius sighs, his voice quieter now. "the wolfsbane."

realization dawns slowly over remus’s face, his grip tightening on the blanket draped over his shoulders.

sirius continues, pomfrey said she’s been coming in with all kinds of shit. headaches, nosebleeds, muscle cramps. even seizures."

remus’s throat works, eyes darkening. "she knows?"

sirius watches him carefully. “she's known moony, since nearly the beginning. she did it for you.”

remus exhales sharply, looking away, staring into the fire. "that doesn't make any sense, there's no way she knew and she stayed with me."

sirius can't help but roll his eyes at his stubborn friend, "is that actually true or did you just make yourself believe that? i mean did she actually ever say anything indicative of her being this horrible twisted person you've made her out to be?"

remus is silent.

"you don't get it moony. it's not her. it's me. i'm the dark and twisted one, she doesn't want this sirius. she doesn't deserve this." remus cried out.

sirius was in despair over his friend's anguish, he looked around desperately for something, anything to prove that what he was saying was true, his eyes landed on the vial. he grabbed it, harshly shoving it in remus's shaking hands, "she does want it. and that right there is hard evidence. it works doesn't it? we all know it did, you've never been able to stand the day after a full-moon before let alone walk down the stairs by yourself." he rips the blanket of remus's lap, "she did that for you, without being asked, without being rewarded, and the expense of her own health."

remus looks down at his body, he's felt it all morning, the lessened ache of his bones and the surprising lack of deep cuts in his skin.

"you have got to stop this moony, this wallowing this–this hatred. it's going to kill you. she doesn't deserve this? well neither do you."

outside, the wind howls softly against the windows. inside, something unspoken lingers in the spaces between words, settling deep in the quiet.

one week later . . .

the black lake is still, the surface glass-like under the dull winter sky. the cold bites at your skin, but you don’t move, not yet. you just sit there, staring out at the water, letting the silence stretch.

you hear his footsteps before you hear his voice. the scene is all tok familiar.

“you look well.”

you tense, fingers curling slightly in the fabric of your cloak.

“so do you,” you reply, voice even, measured. you don’t turn to face him. instead, you push yourself to stand, brushing off your robes, ready to leave.

“i got it wrong.” his voice is wavering.

you pause mid-step. slowly, you turn your head just enough to glance at him. remus looks tired. not in the way he did after his monthly ritual, not just physically, but something else lingers in his expression. something heavier.

you don’t ask.

you grip the edges of your cloak tighter, keeping your face unreadable. “about what?”

he exhales, shaking his head slightly, like he’s still sorting through the thoughts tangled up inside him. “about you,” he says. “about—about what you were trying to do.”

you shift, drawing your arms closer to yourself, bracing against the cold.

remus steps forward, just barely, his breath visible in the air between you.

“i didn’t see it,” he admits, his voice low. “not until sirius told me.” he looks at you then, steady and unguarded. “i got it wrong,” he repeats, softer this time.

the words settle between you, raw and honest. you don’t move for a long moment, your pulse drumming against your ribs, your breath short against the crisp air.

then, finally, you speak. "i don't know what you want me to say remus."

"just listen?" he offers.

you don't move, you still don't look at him. he takes it as indication to continue, "i’ve loved you for so long. longer than i even knew what love meant, longer than i ever thought i deserved to feel it. and for so much of that time, i did nothing about it. not because i didn’t want to, but because i didn’t know how much time i had." your face flashes in concern at this.

"with everything i am, this condition, this mind that turns against itself more often than not, i didn’t know how long i was going to last. i didn’t let myself imagine a future, because what would be the point? then seventh year came, and suddenly there was a deadline. graduation. the end of everything familiar. and i figured, why not, right? why not make the most of the time i had left with you? i love you so much, and i wanted to tell you. i wanted to tell you my secret so badly, but you are so pure, so kind, so good, and i was afraid. afraid that if i told you, you’d see me differently. you’d see the monster in me, you'd see what i see in myself, and you would leave. and i know that was selfish—i know. but i just wanted more time. i just wanted a little longer with you before you had to go." tears are streaming down his face at this point, down yours too, you can't bear to look at him, you remaining resolve would crumble, you know it.

"then you started to pull away after november, and i couldn’t–i couldn’t watch you leave. i wouldn’t have survived it. so i had to do it first. i had to hurt you before you could hurt me. because if i broke you, at least i’d know the ending was mine." he stopped, you didn't move, you didn't say anything.

"y/n please. i'm sorry." more silence. and then,

"i'm going to be late for class." and with that you walked off, leaving remus standing there under the cover of a wilted tree, next to the stone bench he had abandoned you on just a few weeks ago.

. . .

two days. it had been two days since remus's display at the lake and he had been moping ever since, much to his roommates dismays.

no one had seen or heard from you since then either. you weren't in your room when james had sent lily to check and you weren't in the hospital wing when sirius had gone to check, and it had remus in absolute shambles.

"she hates me. she hates me so much she transferred schools." he's face down in his pillow, his body limp against the mattress as he groans out his words.

peter scrunches his eyebrows, "we graduate in five months?"

still muffled by his pillow remus replies, "yeah so she must really hate me."

"oh come on you ole sap. don't tell me you're giving up so easily." sirius barked from across the room, peaking his head out from his post-shower routine.

"no i am. i'm giving up. the love of my life hates me and now i'm going to die." remus flips over onto his back and states plainly.

sirius frowns, "what did i say about all this self-anguish bull?"

"i'm only joking mom. kind of." remus replies sarcastically.

he's happy to have his friends in his time of despair, their senseless bickering and blind encouragement gives him hope in his dark and stormy time.

that is until a knock at their dormitory door causes them to all freeze. the four of them look between each other, confused. lily was still in class and sirius's various flings know better than to show up here, so who was at the door?

peter makes the first move, towards the door, hand slowly turning the handle. as the heavy wooden door swings open it reveals, you.

sirius let's out a dramatic gasp and remus nearly burns holes into his head, if only his gaze wasn't so locked in on you.

you brush past peter and make a bee line for where remus is now sat up on the edge of his bed. he holds his breath as you approach him, expecting you to slap him clean across the face.

but you don't, instead, you stop just mere inches in front of him with your hand outstretched.

"my name is y/n y/l/n. i'm a seventh year y/h/n and i'm incredibly talented in potion making." you state.

everyone is confused. remus is confused, but mostly remus is grateful you're even speaking to him. he's frozen in place and when you don't see him moving you shake your outstretched hand and raise your eyebrows.

in a moment of rare intellect from the idiotic boy he snaps back into reality, firm grasping your hand for a shake.

"remus. lupin. seventh year, gryffindor." he finishes, still grasping your hand. you raise your eyebrows again, he tilts his head like a lost and confused puppy.

you decide to throw him a bone and prompt him, "and...?"

it all clicks for him, he knows what you want.

"and i'm a werewolf."

you smile, he smiles.

you turn over the hand of his that has a firm grip on you and apparate a pen into your hand. opening his palm you bend over and write down a number on his open hand.

(+** - *** - ******)

and then you turn to leave, but not before throwing a quick "call me." over your shoulder.

as soon as peter closes the door behind you remus jump up out of his bed. he's pumping his fists in the air while sirius and peter cheer him on.

from his bed, james pipes up, "call me? we're wizards? who the bloody hell is using a mobile phone?"

he's promptly hit square in the face by remus's pillow, knocking the glasses frames clean off his face, "shut up prongs." and peter pats him on the back.

he's absolutely elated. as he falls asleep that night he thanks every single higher being out there for allowing him back into your life. he promises to never grimace at his dad's bad jokes, or make fun of sirius's gala outfits ever again, he swears on everything he has that he will never do another remotely unkind thing again for the rest of his life as long as you are in it.

he knows the two of you have a lot to talk about, and he knows he has a lot to work on himself, but for tonight, he's just happy you gave him a second chance.

© menyuui do not copy, repost, or plagiarize the contents of this blog

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jisung (idol AU)

IMAGINE: You’re curled up next to Jisung, who’s effortlessly hot tonight, during one of your usual movie nights. But you two had agreed—when he felt ready, he’d be the one to make the first move.

TW: sex, fingering, virgin!boy, MDNI

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• Jisung is very much a virgin. You’re his first girlfriend ever—his first kiss, even. He told you all of that himself in a moment of rare courage (not that you didn’t already know), and you reassured him, promising there was absolutely no rush. When the time felt right, you’d take things slow, together. Sure, you’ve shared some pretty intense makeout sessions, but that’s where it stopped. You genuinely don’t mind waiting—what matters most is that he feels comfortable, and when it happens, it’s a good experience for him. But—Jesus Christ. Jisung is so attractive. And the worst part is, he has no idea. It’s maddening.

• The two of you are bundled up under the covers in his cozy, warm bed. There are way too many junk food wrappers scattered across the blanket, and a Christmas movie is playing on his massive screen—even though it’s barely November. He slides his feet beneath the blanket, nestling them between your bare legs, clearly seeking the warmth of your skin. As his body presses closer to yours, you can’t help but stiffen slightly.

"You okay?"

You nod quickly, eyes glued to the screen, avoiding his gaze. Jisung doesn’t push.

• A little while later, he’s still all over you, absentmindedly drawing soft circles across your stomach just beneath your bellybutton. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, too absorbed in the movie. You take a deep breath, silently begging yourself to keep it together. Come on, y/n, get a grip, for fuck's sake. But your inner pep talk clearly isn’t working, because Jisung shifts just enough to glance down at you.

“What’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

You sigh, closing your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just—ugh. I’m about to start my period.”

His eyes widen with concern. “Are you hurting? Cramping?”

“No, I’m just… horny.”

Jisung freezes, utterly stunned. You can practically see his brain short-circuiting. You giggle and quickly put a hand on his arm before his heart explodes.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry, okay baby?”

You snuggle back into him, but he doesn’t budge. You glance up.

“I mean it, babe. Don’t—”

“Are you really… um, t-turned on?”

You blink at him, studying the tension in his jaw, the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

“A little,” you whisper.

He has the nerve to nod. “So… d-do you want me to… do something?”

“I told you, it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything.”

“But I want to.”

Your eyes snap to his, surprised. “Oh.”

• He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple shifting again as he leans toward you—hesitant, careful. He props himself against the headboard, then pats his thighs nervously.

“C-Can you come here?”

His stammer and those big, innocent eyes have your body trembling with anticipation. You nod and crawl onto his lap, settling on top of him. He wraps his arms around your waist, then lifts the hem of your pajama shirt, carefully pulling it over your head. You’re startled at first—but when you notice his hands are shaking, your heart softens. You lean in and kiss him slowly, threading your fingers through his soft hair. His touch on your bare torso is shy, unsure—but when you shift your hips slightly, grinding down for the smallest bit of friction… That’s when something clicks for Jisung. He swallows his nerves and lets himself lean into the sensation. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, catching his breath.

“Can I touch you?”

You nod, eyes locked with his, watching as his hand moves toward your underwear. You don’t know what’s gotten into this sweet, lanky boy—but honestly, you don’t care. Jisung starts touching you slowly, uncertainly—his fingers exploring with gentle, tentative movements. You let out a breathy moan and close your eyes. He blushes deeply, glancing between your blissed-out expression and his hand hidden beneath your shorts. As he starts to get a feel for the rhythm you like, you roll your hips to match the pace, gripping his shoulders for support as your legs begin to tremble.

“D-Do you like it?”

“Mhh… you’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise sends a shiver through him, and you feel his erection harden beneath you. You’d tease him, but then his fingers curl inside you and—yeah. You forget how to think. You can't believe Virgin Boy Jisung Park is about to make you come with just his fingers.

“Fuck—woah. That was… unexpected.”

• Jisung looks up at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, his hand still between your legs, still inside you. You smile wickedly and kiss him again, stroking the back of his neck, drawing a soft sigh from him.

“Y/n… can we—um… can we keep going?”

“We can do whatever you want, baby. It’s all up to you, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

You tug lightly at the hem of his hoodie, silently urging him to take it off—and he does, right away. Finally, your eyes get their fill of his gorgeous arms, goosebumps trailing down his skin, and that beautifully sculpted chest that quite literally steals your breath. You bite your lower lip, and he flushes under your gaze. Your mouth finds that sensitive spot just beneath his ear, and he melts the moment your tongue touches down—you've found out before that’s one of his weak points. Now, with your body grinding softly against his, he’s practically in heaven.

“O-Oh my God.”

“You’re doing so well, my good boy.”

He groans, hands coming to rest around your waist. “Wait, I want—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he lifts you effortlessly and lays you down beneath him, resuming his kisses while his fingers trace slow, reverent paths along your bare sides. He’s taking his time with you, learning, worshiping every inch of skin he uncovers. When he hooks your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, you raise your hips, letting him slide them down—along with your damp panties. Jisung holds his breath, realizing you're completely naked beneath him now, save for your bra. You help him out of his sweatpants, flashing him a sweet smile, doing everything you can to help him relax.

• He leans down to kiss you again, trying to calm the buzzing nerves beneath his skin. But then you feel him—his erection pressing against your thigh—and the need inside you spikes even higher. You can’t help but roll your leg against him, drawing a sharp curse from his lips. His eyes lift to meet yours, catching your soft, reassuring smile. He takes a steady breath and glances down at the space between you. Then, slowly, he aligns himself with your entrance and begins to ease into you, letting your bodies come together inch by aching inch. You both moan at the overwhelming relief of finally being this close. Jisung moves gently, in and out, savoring the way you gasp and shiver beneath him, because of him. And when he feels his orgasm start to rise, he buries his face in your neck, letting you hear the ragged sounds of his pleasure—God, his fucking voice. That low, wrecked voice of his nearly tips you over the edge all on its own, making your body tighten around him as your climax crests.

“Oh my—fucking God.”

“Shit.”

• The rush of release leaves you both stunned, clinging to one another in the aftermath. You stay like that, tangled up, trying to remember where you are, who you are—because holy hell. Your first time together was everything.

“H-How… how was it?”

“Incredible, baby. You were amazing.”

Jisung didn’t sleep a single minute that night.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

other jisung's chapters:

bf!jisung scenario

jisung - when you first met

jisung - your first time together ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you're here!

OT7 chapters:

your contact names in each other's phone

his favourite part of your body

when he hurts you during sex by accident

⇘ nct dream idol AU index ⇙

·˚✎ ﹏im4rmy's masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[evermoredeluxe]

Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour Grand Total: A Record $2 Billion

By Ben Sisario

For the last 21 months, Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour has been the biggest thing in music — a phenomenon that has engulfed pop culture, dominated news coverage and boosted local economies around the world.

Now we know exactly how big.

Through its 149th and final show, which took place in Vancouver, British Columbia, on Sunday, Swift’s tour sold a total of $2,077,618,725 in tickets. That’s two billion and change — double the gross ticket sales of any other concert tour in history and an extraordinary new benchmark for a white-hot international concert business.

Those figures were confirmed to The New York Times for the first time by Taylor Swift Touring, the singer’s production company. While the financial details of the Eras Tour have been a subject of constant industry speculation since tickets were first offered more than two years ago — through a presale so in-demand it crashed Ticketmaster’s system — Swift has never authorized disclosure of the tour’s numbers until now.

The official results are not far from the estimates that trade journalists and industry analysts have been crunching for months. But they solidify the enormous scale of Swift’s accomplishment. Just a few months ago, Billboard magazine reported that Coldplay had set an industry record with $1 billion in ticket sales for its 156-date Music of the Spheres World Tour — a figure that is just half of Swift’s total for a similar stretch of shows in stadiums and arenas.

Every date on the Eras Tour was sold out, and spare tickets were scalped at eye-popping prices — or traded within the protective Swiftie fan community, often at face value.

According to Swift’s touring company, a total of 10,168,008 people attended the concerts, which means that, on average, each seat went for about $204. That is well above the industry average of $131 for the top 100 tours around the world in 2023, according to Pollstar, a trade publication.

The biggest single night’s attendance was in Melbourne, Australia, on Feb. 16, 2024, with 96,006. And Swift’s eight nights at Wembley Stadium in London, which she played more than any other venue, drew 753,112 people — about as many as live in Seattle.

As gigantic as they are, the figures revealed by Swift’s company are only part of the overall business that has surrounded the tour. They exclude her extraordinary merchandise sales, for example, a product line so in demand that Swift opened stadium sales booths a day early in some markets to sell T-shirts, hoodies and Christmas ornaments to fans, ticketed or not.

And they do not count the secondary market of online ticket resellers. According to StubHub, the Eras Tour was the biggest-selling tour in the platform’s two-decade history, and last year it outsold Beyoncé’s shows by a factor of five. Another ticketing company, Victory Live, said the average price for resold tickets to the Eras Tour’s three Vancouver dates was $2,952. (Swift earned nothing from resold tickets.)

Beyond its numbers, the Eras Tour has been a mega-event that elevated the already-super-famous Swift to a new level, making her an epochal symbol of cultural saturation on the level of the Beatles in the 1960s or Michael Jackson in his ’80s prime. Swift’s every onstage utterance, outfit swap or offstage sighting was thoroughly documented, on social media and in the mainstream press, with news outlets big and small rushing to capture Swifties’ clicks. Online, fans tracked every tweak to the three-hour-plus set lists.

As the story of Swift’s tour took shape, it seemed to contain its own eras within it. First, in November 2022, came the ticket fiasco, when Ticketmaster was overwhelmed by what it said were 3.5 billion online requests for tickets, many from scalpers’ bots. The furor over those problems led to a Senate Judiciary hearing in January 2023, at which lawmakers from both parties openly called Ticketmaster’s corporate parent, Live Nation, a monopoly. (This year, the Justice Department filed an antitrust suit against Live Nation, calling for a breakup of the company.)

Then came the tour and the folkways that developed around it, like fans trading hand-assembled friendship bracelets. After the tour’s stop in Kansas City, Mo., a public flirtation between Swift and Travis Kelce, the star tight end of the Kansas City Chiefs, developed into a full-on romance, with the pop star and the football hunk sharing a field-level smooch after the Chiefs defeated the San Francisco 49ers at Super Bowl LVIII in February. The photographers definitely did not miss it.

In October 2023, she released “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour,” a nearly three-hour concert film, released through a direct distribution deal with AMC Entertainment, the world’s largest theater operator. It sold about $93 million in tickets during its opening weekend, and ended up with $261 million in worldwide grosses, according to Box Office Mojo. The next step was a streaming deal with Disney+. A 256-page hardcover tour book, released last month through Target stores, sold 814,000 print copies in its first two days on sale.

As the tour moved to Europe in 2024, it narrowly avoided what could have been a major catastrophe when a terrorist bomb plot was uncovered before three planned shows in Vienna. Those events were canceled and never rescheduled.

Although Swift has largely avoided the news media during the tour, over time she has pulled back the curtain a bit to reveal some of how it came together. To prepare herself for the physical demands of the show, she trained for six months, with a cardio regimen that included singing the entire set list while running on a treadmill, she told Time magazine.

“I knew this tour was harder than anything I’d ever done before by a long shot,” the magazine quoted her as saying. “I finally, for the very first time, physically prepared correctly.”

The music video for “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart,” from her latest album, “The Tortured Poets Department” — her third release over the course of the tour, including two rerecorded versions of older albums — has behind-the-scenes clips confirming some of the stagecraft mechanics that fans have carefully cataloged on social media, like how she “dives” each night through a “hole” in the stage (onto a soft cushion held by crew members) and how she is ferried backstage in a dummy janitor’s cart.

The tour concludes just as Swift celebrates yet another win: “Tortured Poets” has returned to No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart for a 16th week, with help from vinyl and CD sales of the 35-track “Anthology” edition of the album, which Swift released on Black Friday, also through Target. “Tortured Poets” is by far the biggest-selling album of the year so far.

Swift is up for six awards at the Grammys in February, including album of the year for “Tortured Poets” and both record and song of the year for one of its singles, “Fortnight.”

At a recent tour stop in Toronto, as the tour neared its end, Swift teared up as she delivered valedictory remarks to fans.

“My band, my crew, all my fellow performers,” she said, “we have put so much of our lives into this, and you put so much of your lives into being with us tonight and to giving us that moment that we will never forget.”

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Hope for Christmas

Spill it, Buck," Maddie said.

"Well, you know how I've always kind of been a go big or go home guy?" Buck asked.

"Yes, I have met you," Maddie said dryly.

"Well, I kind of bought Tommy's Christmas present before the breakup, and it's non-refundable, so I was thinking I could gift it to you and Chim."

"What's the gift?" Maddie asked, curiosity piqued.

"Uh, an all-inclusive vacation to Cabo..." Buck's voice trailed off, waiting for her reaction.

"Buck," Maddie said, her voice softening.

Buck took a deep breath. "It was going to be perfect. I'd planned everything - private villa, sunset dinners, couples' massage. I talked to his captain and arranged his schedule. I wanted it to be this big, romantic gesture that showed Tommy how serious I was about us."

"Call him," Maddie said.

"What?" Buck said, confusion evident in his tone.

"Call him," Maddie repeated, simple and direct.

"Mads. I can't do that. We broke up. He dumped me," Buck said, his voice heavy with hurt.

"So? It was meant to be a gift, right? You don't have to do all the romantic stuff, but you still like each other, right?" Maddie said, her tone practical and hopeful.

"No, Maddie," Buck said quietly. "I don't just like him. I love him. I am in love with him."

Maddie's expression softened. "So call him. Not to get back together. Just...as friends. As people who care about each other."

Buck hesitated, his fingers already unconsciously tracing the outline of his phone in his pocket. "What would I even say?"

"Hey, I bought this trip before we broke up. Want a free vacation?" Maddie suggested with a hint of a smile.

"That's your brilliant plan?" Buck raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes the simplest approach works best," she said. "You're overthinking it. Just reach out."

Buck took a deep breath. His hand shook slightly as he picked up the phone.

"It's ringing," Buck whispered, his voice barely audible. Maddie gave him a thumbs up and silently slipped away.

"Go for Kinard," Tommy answered, his tone professional and guarded.

"Hey...hey...uh, Tommy. It's Evan Buckley," Buck stammered, each word feeling like it was being pulled from him.

Tommy tried to laugh, but it was unnatural sounding, his discomfort apparent even over the phone."Well hello, Evan Buckley. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Well uh..." Buck took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's Christmas and I got you a gift before we broke up. And I want to give it to you but it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Tommy asked curiously.

"Well...I kind of got you a trip to Cabo...with me...and well it's non-refundable and I know you have the time off because I kind of arranged it with your captain back in November before well...you know. So the trip is yours if you want it. You can take anyone you want-" Buck rambled, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

"Buck, wow, that's so thoughtful," Tommy said, genuine surprise softening his previously guarded tone.

"Yeah well...you deserve it," Buck said softly.

"Come with me?" Tommy asked.

"Are you sure? That could be weird," Buck responded, uncertainty threading through his words.

"I still want you in my life, Buck," Tommy said.

"On one condition..." Buck said, a hint of playfulness emerging.

"What's that?" Tommy asked.

"Never call me Buck again," he replied, a hint of a laugh threading through words that were undeniably serious.

"I promise, Evan," Tommy said, his voice sincere.

"Well, I guess we're going on vacation," Buck replied, the words full of nervous energy catching in his throat.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Tommy said, his tone a vulnerable mix of cautious optimism and uncertainty.

[dsybouquet]

cant stop thinking about art atelier owner! ellie who recently moved the atelier to a bigger and prettier place.

the former flower shop has stood empty for years since the old lady running it has turned too old. when ellie bought the place from her, she saw the sadness behind the woman’s eyes who spent decades of her life in the building and now had to leave it behind. therefore ellie made the promise to keep the place im a good shape.

that being said, ellie stood by her word. couple of months have passed and the atelier is almost finished. she was missing some things here and there, but the time will bring them in - or rather, her local delivery girl will.

it was a cold november day and you regretted showing up at work. since christmas was approaching, the amount of packages was nearly unbearable. you stopped the mail-vehicle and put your head on the steering wheel. “think about the money, ______.”, you reminded yourself before grabbing the letters from the box next to you.

“williams?”, you whispered to yourself, clearly remembering that the shop belonged to a elderly woman named sophie thomson.

looking at your handscanner, you saw that you also had three packages to deliver at the adress.

thinking nothing of it, you got out of the vehicle. the cold air was immediately piercing your fingers and you wrapped your scarf closer around your neck. the side door slid open and you took the four packages all adress to ‘ellie williams - williams’ atelier’

odd, you thought, but you scanned them in and made your way inside. it was completely renovated. the walls, that used to have a flowery wallpaper, are now painted in a dark green tone, that made the atmosphere super mysterious. brown armchairs and a retro looking glass table, that was littered with art magazines, stood next to the entrance. it felt like a lobby.

“hello? im here to deliver a package.”, you called out, placing the packages on the nearby counter.

“coming!”, you heard a woman reply.

rushing from the backdoor was a woman, approximately around the age of 25. her hair was half up in a messy bun, possibly to keep it out of her face. she wore a beat down overall that was covered in paint stains.

“sorry, didn’t hear ya coming in.”, she then said, looking at you with her piercing eyes. for a second you were just staring at her tattoos, her face and her eyes.

“y-yeah don’t worry! i just need a signature for one of these.”, you fumbled on the handscanner. “can i ask your name, so i can type it in?”

“ellie williams.”, she responded, leaning against the counter, eyeing you.

“alright, miss williams, i need you to sign right on the display and then we’re done.”, you smiled, holding the scanner out to her.

she signed with a smile on her face, and placed the packages on the backdoor.

“hey! i have a few more orders coming in in the next weeks. also some furniture. if anything is too heavy just come in and yell. i will make sure to help you.”, she said, walking back to you.

this wasn’t the last time you had to go to the atelier. actually, mrs. williams was ordering a lot. you always wanted to roll your eyes when you’re collages commented how many packages the adress had, but you couldn’t.

after some time passed, she would eventually start to offer you a cup of coffee or some sweets. eventually you would drop calling her mrs. williams and call her ellie or els.

“what are your opening hours between christmas and new year?”, you asked as you placed her packages on the counter and clicked the ‘recipient’ button to confirm the package delivery.

��we’re closed, but just ring the door bell as i will be here sometimes. maybe you can catch me.”, she smiled and grabbed your to go coffee cup to refill it for you - something that she started to do last week.

“______, wait here for a second.”, she then said, turning her back to you and jogging towards the backdoor. “i got you a little something.”

she handed you a dark green, christmas themed giftbag filled with some chocolate and a little canvas. “thank you for your hard work and for carrying my heavy furniture in here”

“thank you, els.”, you smiled.

back in your car, you looked at the little envelope in the bag. there was a card inside, littered with christmas wishes and..

ellies number at the bottom of it. ‘text me if you see this xx’

[doctor-dusk]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

all you want for christmas is him.

warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, most fluff, lots of kisses and cuddles because it’s humbug alex :3

words: 4.7k

i've had this ready since the beginning of the month and i posted it today because it makes more sense with the story. i've never written anything with humbug al but i admit that this brought a smile to my face. hope you enjoy it :3

it was snowing heavily when you left home, but not as much when you got back. you find it strangely amazing how everything could change drastically in a matter of minutes. the road wasn't so slippery when you parked the car, and now, you slipped and almost fell on your butt twice just to put the christmas presents in the trunk of the car.

ah, yes. it was christmas. one of the best times of the year, and without a doubt, it was your favorite. where you could get together with family and friends, exchange gifts and eat a lot without feeling remorseful about gaining a few extra pounds on the scale later. it was still the 23rd of december, but you had already been in the christmas spirit since november.

you took advantage of your free day to buy presents for the children. you made a mental note of what each of them wanted as a gift, casually asking what they would like for christmas that year. it was as easy as taking candy from a baby's mouth.

alex didn't go with you. he was too invested in the cookies to be able to accompany you. but you didn't complain, you loved it when he got excited about it, even though in the end he made a mess in the kitchen, with eggshells on the counter and flour on the floor. but the mess was the least of your worries.

you simply loved seeing how excited and happy he was, helping you decorate the house with wreaths on the doors and small ornaments on the windows, and of course, decorating the christmas tree. it was all full of laughter and jokes, as if at that moment you were in a cliché christmas movie.

you parked the car in the garage, getting out quickly to get the presents out of the car without taking too long, it was really freezing as night fell. you put the handles of the bags over your arms, making sure you didn't forget anything before locking the car and entering the house through the back door, avoiding getting the entire living room dirty with your snow-covered boots as much as possible.

the back door led directly to the laundry room, so you took the opportunity to take off your boots and put on your slippers, leaving your socks on your feet. alex thought it was funny — not to say strange — that you walked around the house in slippers and socks, but when he least expected it, he were already walking around the house like that too.

he usually says that you are a bad influence on him. but you are proud of it. it's not like he doesn't like it after all. he liked having a little bit of you in his habits.

before you crossed the small hallway that connected the laundry room and the kitchen, you could already smell cookies in the air. the soft vanilla aroma filled your nostrils as you approached the counter. alex wasn't there, all you saw besides an impeccably clean kitchen was the porcelain container with the warm cookies and a small note stuck under the small bowl.

you left the presents in a safe place on the floor, making a little mental note to pick them up later and beg alex to help you wrap them all — begging because alex liked to hear you say that he knew how to make much prettier gift bows than yours.

one free hand took the small note between your fingers, while the other rushed to grab one of the cookies from the pile, feeling the soft warmth on your fingertips. you took a bite, the chocolate chips practically melting in your mouth in an explosion of flavors, making you let out a satisfied hum.

your eyes drifted to the small note, recognizing alex’s elaborate handwriting as if he was always in a hurry to write, as if the words would disappear from his mind at any moment and he needed, no, needed to write it down somewhere before he forgot. it no longer surprised you to see loose letters and verses written in the most unusual places, like on the calendar stuck to the wall, or on his empty cigarette pack.

back to the main point, you read the small sentences written with the graphite of a worn pencil:

“meet me at the studio.

ps: sorry about the glass :(”

you frowned, soon understanding the meaning of the observation when you saw a small cardboard box in the corner with “glass” written on the top. he probably accidentally broke a glass while making the cookies, but that was no reason to make you angry, so you ignored it as you made your way to the studio at the end of the hallway that started in the living room.

the door was ajar, so you just gave it a little push. the studio always smelled of pine. you didn’t know exactly if it was because of the instruments, most of them structured with the most varied types of noble wood. but you loved that smell, especially when it was mixed with the smell of alex’s perfume. the place was annoyingly organized, he made sure not to leave anything out of place, whether he was alone or not. everything was impeccably in its place, the low lights brought a subtle comfort along with the colorful twinkling lights around the christmas tree set up there.

but what was truly a feast for your eyes was seeing your boyfriend lying there partially next to the christmas tree. the incandescent lights of the studio made his skin look warm, glowing. like a candle slowly burning, waiting for you. you looked up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips as he smiled back at you.

‘’what’s this?” you gestured to him lying next to the christmas tree, his wavy hair decorated with crimson red bows in the strands.

“don’t you like it, love?” he pouted. oh, you loved and hated that pout of his. you could break it if you could and then you would shower him with kisses until his lips were swollen.

“that’s not it. what are you doing?” you laughed, curious to know what he was planning. he had a gift box on his lap and a suggestive smile on his lips.

“i was preparing your gift. you got ‘ere just in time.” alex replied, patting the carpeted floor next to him so you could join him.

‘’i thought we were only going to exchange gifts at your parents' house in two days.’’ you answered in a slight tone of inquiry as you sat down next to him, your thighs touching and soon your shoulders too when he leaned in to kiss you on the temple.

he let out a laugh through his nose.

‘’believe me, this is not the kind of gift you want to open in front of my parents.’’ he joked, making you raise your eyebrows, curious about what was inside the box he was holding in his lap.

‘’is it a new lingerie?’’ you asked as you tried to guess what was inside. he shook his head in denial.

‘’why don't you open it and see?’’ he suggested, nudging you with his elbow so you could open the box. you knew you could be expecting anything from him now since he wasn't going to tell you what was in there. alex was the kind of guy who never got tired of surprising you.

carefully, you undid the red bow that was on the green box, lifting the lid cautiously, taking a quick peek. your eyes widened, several feelings going through your mind in a split second. in the end, you burst out laughing.

“alex!” you laughed, patting his shoulder, closing the box and opening it again to take another peek to make sure you were really seeing it.

“what? are you going to tell me you didn’t like it?” he asked, his shoulder touching yours, nudging you lightly. you laughed, checking it a second and third time, your face blushing. “stop it, you’re acting like you’ve never seen this in your life.”

“no, this is…” you laughed again, unable to react beyond laughter. of course, you weren’t expecting to see that inside the box. “did you even put a little bow on it?”

“of course, it’s a gift. i thought it would look more presentable for you.’’ he said and you rubbed your eyes, still laughing a little more.

“you’re terrible.” you shook your head, but you loved it, looking back with a sweet smile. ‘’but i liked the gift. i always wanted to have your cock with a little bow around it as a christmas gift.’’

“i would get naked for you, but it’s too cold.” he murmured and you laughed, kissing the tip of his cold nose.

“no need. thank you for the gift.” you said, kissing the tip of his nose again, trailing the kisses to his flushed cheeks, making a short path to the corner of his mouth, feeling the skin on his cheek flex because of his smile. ‘’can i enjoy it?’’

“you must.” he laughed, holding your hand, guiding it inside the box so you could finally touch him. he would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dying to feel your hand. you felt how warm and soft it was. in an impulse that you swore you couldn't control, you squeezed it gently, you played with the idea that it was like a squishy stress ball when it wasn't hard. "weirdo." he laughed, feeling that your touches were already starting to make him excited, the blood pumping quickly to the muscle, stiffening quickly. 

"don't judge me. you know how i like it when it's all soft like this.’’ you laughed in a murmur, your hand finally removing the box from the middle so that your path was clear for you to continue touching him, feeling his arm go around your waist so you could lie down next to him. 

he kissed your forehead, you could feel his breathing getting shaky as your fingers worked on him, feeling that softness being replaced by a warm and firm hardness, and you thought it would be a good idea to undo the tie around it, as cute as you thought it was. you didn't want it to end up hurting him because it was too tight. his face was close, too close. you could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek as he tried to kiss you without getting lost in the feel of your fist closed around him, sliding up and down tortuously, the moans almost sounding like shy whimpers.

“god, i love when you touch me.” he murmured between kisses, feeling you tease him in response, circling the tip of your thumb around the tip, spreading the clear precum around it.

“does it feel good?” you asked, your eyes practically sparkling as you looked at him. he had no idea how beautiful he looked like this, with his eyes closed, his lips parted and his curly hair falling over his cheekbones like a small waterfall. you were completely fascinated by him.

“sooo good…” he dragged the word with a subtle movement of his hips, searching for your hand, searching for more, always more. he buried his face in your neck, making you roll over to feel the carpeted floor beneath your back. ‘’i love you so much…’’ he murmured, his hips moving against your hand in a delicious back and forth manner, your fist clenching a little tighter, increasing the pressure of your grip around him a little.

before you knew it, you were practically stuck together, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other undid the button of your jeans while he forced his knees to support the weight of his body between your legs. by this time he had already gotten rid of his pants, leaving them lying next to the christmas tree. you closed your eyes at the feeling of his fingers teasing the elastic of your panties under your pants, taking the opportunity to kiss his neck, delirious even more with the gasps he let out. alex had a sensitive neck, so you took advantage of every opportunity to kiss him and feel his skin shivering against your lips.

he mumbled something that you didn't understand at first because you were so lost in the sensations, but as soon as he stopped moving his hips and brought the hand that was on the back of your neck to your cheek, you came back to yourself.

‘’what did you say?’’

he smiled, kissing your forehead.

‘’i asked you to lift your hips, love. can't touch you with you wearing those pants.’’ he said, gentle and patient, even though he was seething inside. you raised your eyebrows, feeling foolish for mere seconds before lifting your hips, letting him do the rest. he paused for a moment, looking at your panties. ‘’those panties are new, aren't they?’’

‘’for god's sake…’’ you laughed, covering your face with one hand. alex paid attention to everything, even the clothes you wore, and it was no different with your panties. he was just very observant, especially when it came to you.

‘’what? i just asked.’’ he laughed too, leaving his palm on the light fabric printed with small roses on white cloth, letting his thumb slide from top to bottom, meticulously over your sensitive spot, making you curl your toes a little. ‘’it's not like i didn't like it. i love roses.

‘’they’re new, yes.’’ you confirmed. ‘’does it make any difference now?’’

‘’not now.’’ he shrugged, hooking his fingers on the sides so he could pull the piece down your legs. ‘’in the end, all the panties you wear end up thrown in some corner of the room. this one here would be no different.’’ he said as he finished pulling the intimate piece over your feet, leaving it in an ignored place.

you felt a voracious shiver, not only because of the cold on your legs, but because you were so close and he was touching you so masterfully, letting his fingertips slide along the inside of your thigh, he could already feel the heat radiating off your skin as he trailed lower, touching every part of your skin that he could reach. 

before you knew it, he was already between your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to spread your legs apart gently, nuzzling his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent. it was good, almost intoxicating to him, but he couldn't live without it.

your hand automatically moved to the back of his head, the relatively long locks barely held between your fingers, so silky and soft.

he looked up at you, the desire in his eyes mirroring yours as he pressed a soft kiss right on your clit, making it throb in response. it was something similar to when you kissed the tip of his cock when you're about to give him a blowjob, like a silent and promising tease.

his tongue danced slowly and deliberately along your folds, licking all the way up, savoring your taste as soft whimpers escaped your lips, his hands now on your inner thighs, keeping them spread wide for him to feast on you.

‘’feels so good…’’ you managed to say between the whimpers and moans. his heart beat even faster, knowing he was pleasing you just right. not that he didn't know, but he liked it when you were vocal. he swirled his tongue around your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping it lower to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue. your hand on his hair tightened, letting him know he was on the right track.

‘’want more?’’ he asked with a muffled voice.

‘’only if you want to.’’ you answered, not wanting to force him into something, even though you knew alex could suffocate to death between your legs if you let him.

his answer was to bury his face between your legs, his tongue delving inside you, stopping only when he moved his lips so he could suck your clit hard. your breathy and desperate moans only turned him on, his fingers almost penetrating your flesh to keep your legs spread wide as he ate you out relentlessly.

‘’taste so good, baby.’’ he moaned against your flesh, his nose pressing on your clit as he devoured you ravenously, lapping at your core and drinking your essence greedily. ‘’so fucking good.’’ he hissed, feeling his own desire throbbing between his legs as he worked you higher and higher.

‘’fuck, alex, i'm…’’ you whispered, feeling your skin shivering. you usually never got goosebumps when he was eating you out, so when he felt the skin on your thigh crawling under his hands, he paused, looking up at you with his face glistening in saliva and your wetness.

‘’are you cold, love?’’ he asked when he felt the goosebumps on your thigh. you nodded. ‘’hold on.’’ he said, reaching behind him to grab a folded blanket you had left there the day before because you were listening to alex play the piano and almost always ended up dozing off to the melody.

he put the blanket over himself and turned his body to lie on top of you, warming you not only with the blanket, but with the heat of his body on yours.

‘’better?’’ he asked, making sure you were feeling warm enough. you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, the kiss answering everything you both needed to know at the moment, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, now mixing on your mouths.

as the kiss dragged on, you felt his hand caress the skin of your belly under your sweater, going up to fondly grope one of your breasts, your legs locked around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, your intimacies touching, rubbing against each other in a frenzy of anticipation.

‘’alex…’’ you whimpered softly, nibbling on his earlobe, feeling him shiver slightly against your body.

‘’i know, love, i know.’’ he murmured against your neck, not needing to say anything else, just act. and so soon, you felt him fit perfectly between your legs, moving in and out slowly, and that alone made your body tingle and soften at the same time.

your skin burned like burning embers, every touch and every thrust seemed to take you to a private paradise where all that existed was the two of you getting lost in each other, drowning in that ocean of pleasure. the lights oscillating between yellow, orange and red on the christmas tree next to you seemed to make his face flush more when he lifted his face to look at you, you could easily get lost in that surrendered look, in that little face contorted with pleasure.

but you couldn't let yourself be fooled, not when he brought his hand around your neck, his thumb caressing and feeling your rapid pulse under the skin of your neck while his hips moved more fluidly and, consequently, faster. the sound of skin colliding with skin began to echo through the small studio, joining the sound of both of your moans.

you clung tighter to him, your hands invading his sweater to feel the boiling skin of his back against your palms. it was too hot now, so you pulled the blanket away, both of you wearing only your sweaters on top. soon, your hands returned to roaming his sides, holding his hips and encouraging him in his rhythmic and precise thrusts.

turner leaned in to kiss you again, your hands going straight to his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands and the little bows attached to it. you didn't know whether to moan or laugh at the fact that you were having sex while he had little red bows attached to his locks. alex was too unpredictable for his own good.

but you chose to moan, especially because it was impossible not to have that reaction when you felt him so good and so deep like that, the inside of your cunt seemed to be perfectly molded for his cock, squeezing and feeling him hitting that spot over and over again, which forced your body to contort and cling to his tighter. his name was like a melody in your mouth, echoing vividly with the sound of his thrusts, you even found it difficult to keep your eyes open to admire every little expression on his face.

‘’you look so beautiful like this, you know that?’’ he gasped, holding your face with his hand, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks, his lips giving you several little kisses, one after the other. ‘’so beautiful and so mine…’’ he continued, punctuating his words with sharp and deep thrusts, knowing that you loved the compliments, loved how much he liked to compliment even your toenails, no matter how much you told him how ridiculous they were.

you brought your hand between your bodies, wanting more stimulation. your fingers circled lazily around your pleasure point, feeling him go back and forth inside you, listening to the muffled sounds from the back of his throat as he kissed and nibbled on your neck, his hands gripping your skin in any way he could, marking his territory.

you tried not to moan too much, but it was so hard, you had a lot to deal with at the moment, and you tried to kiss him or bite your lip so as not to let any loud sounds escape. but damn, this was driving alex crazy, completely out of his mind to the point where he couldn't control himself as he moved so fast, that knot in his stomach was starting to form inside him.

when you felt him slow down a little, your eyes searched his as you lifted your eyelids, a look of slight desperation taking over his facial features.

‘’what's wrong, love?’’ you asked, trying not to be so worried, your free hand reaching up to touch his face.

‘’it's just that i... fuck, i'm so close…’’ he murmured a little breathlessly, swallowing hard. ‘’i don't want to come right now...’’

‘’honey, it's okay…’’ you reassured him. of course, it was rare for him to cum before you, but it happens. he always made sure to hold back as long as possible so that you could have your pleasure, maybe even twice so that he could finally feel free to let the orgasm consume him too. you said it was selfish of him, but he never listened to you.

‘’no, not before you.’’ he shook his head, reluctantly holding himself back. but it was so hard when he felt your walls squeezing him, making him so sensitive and stimulated that it was already out of control.

‘’alex, look at me, love.’’ you said, holding his face with both hands. ‘’you know i don't care about that.just let go, i'm right behind you, i promise.’’ you said, distributing hot kisses all over his face, your hand returning to your clit, rolling your hips a little against his to stimulate him more.

it didn't take more than that. your soothing words, your kisses on his neck and the feeling of you squeezing around him like a warm hug were enough to make him spill inside you, holding your thighs tightly as he pulsed inside you vigorously, making you feel that familiar feeling of fulfillment.

you barely had time to open your eyes and catch your breath. you felt him slide out of you, his member being replaced by his ring and middle fingers, burying them inside you until reach his knuckles, the unannounced invasion made you close your legs in a reflex, soon relaxing them when he kissed your face.

‘’let me take care of you now, darling." he whispered to you, your foreheads pressed together as he pumped his fingers back and forth quickly, and you were already delirious. you loved it when he touched you. of course, being a natural guitarist, turner really knew how to move his fingers, especially inside you.

in no time, you were already a mess, his fingers continued tirelessly, alternating between going back and forth or curving upwards, massaging your g-spot with fervor. you didn't care that everything was getting too wet, too sticky with his fresh cum dripping from your hole that was now filled with his two fingers, you just knew how to enjoy the sensation and slowly come undone by spasms.

‘’alex, alex…’’ you moaned, both of you working together with your fingers, building your orgasm little by little as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him into a wet kiss at the same time that you reached your climax, shaking and almost writhing like an acrobat on the floor, his fingers continued to stimulate you, but with less intensity now, trying not to overstimulate you.

‘’mhm, that’s it, baby.’’ he mumbled between sweet kisses on your swollen lips, satisfied that he could make you finish.

the panting breaths soon died down, your hearts returning to normal beats as he laid his head on your chest, his sticky fingers finally abandoning you, leaving you with a strange feeling of emptiness as it happened every time.

you murmured softly to him, your free hand undid one of the ties in his hair so that you could comb it back, unsticking the strands from his sweaty forehead.

“hm?” he asked, looking up so that his lazy eyes met yours.

“i'm cold again.” you pouted and he laughed through his nose, reaching for the blanket that was thrown on the floor again, covering your completely tired bodies again. ‘’i loved the gift, al.’’

‘’you're welcome.’’ he murmured with a low laugh, reaching for the skin of your collarbone to give it a kiss or two. you smiled, pulling him closer, his body was on top of yours, but he tried not to distribute his weight completely on you. he kissed your flushed face more times than he could count, his hand caressed the back of your neck, and you swore you could hear him purring like a kitten.

‘’it feels so good here…’’ you murmured, your voice was sleepy. alex chuckled softly, you always got sleepy after sex, so this was no surprise to him anymore.

‘’we can stay here a little longer.’’ he replied, hugging you and rolling your bodies so that you could be with your body on top of his.

he held your face, the little kisses didn't seem enough, so he kissed you more intensely, his tongue parting your lips so he could explore your mouth as if it were the first time. when you broke the kiss, he swallowed, licking his lips as if he was thoughtful and trying to come to a conclusion.

‘’what's wrong?’’ you asked curiously.

‘’kiss me again.’’ he asked. you found it unusual, but didn't say anything back, kissing him the same way, letting him taste your mouth more. when you broke the kiss again, he laughed. ‘’did you eat one of the cookies on the counter?’’

‘’of course i did.’’ you laughed along. ‘’did you only realize now?’’

‘’yeah. i was too busy fucking you to realize that.’’ he said and you rolled your eyes at how direct he was, but you didn't think it was bad. ‘’but i liked it. cookie kisses.’’

‘’did you like it?’’ you smiled, feeling him brush his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss.

“i loved it.” he replied, your foreheads and the tips of your noses touching as if they were made for that. “and you know what else i love?”

you smiled. you knew what he was going to answer, but you always liked hearing him say it.

“what?” you asked, your eyes shining at him as you waited for his answer.

“you.”

a/n: idk if i'll post anything else in the next few days or before new years, so merry xmas in advance <3

taglist (let me know if you want to be included or excluded): @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

[sloanesallow]

Mirror, Mirror

Sebastian is glad to be home for the holidays, ready to gift his wife with a wicked fantasy. Written for the November NSFW writing event for the OHL Discord server. The prompt was "The Naughty List"...though I kind of shoehorned in the Christmas theme... Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Unnamed) Tags: MDNI, NSFW! Sexual content, dirty talk, mirror sex, arranged marriage but they like each other, more Stupid Sexy Sebastian. Technically a continuation of "Tell Me". 1.7k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

It’s Christmas.

Last year, Sebastian spent the holiday alone, but now he is a married man with a wife to dote on. After spending nearly two weeks away on Ministry business, he is eager to be home. It isn’t how he expected to feel so soon after the wedding, an arranged affair he wanted nothing to do with. But Mrs. Sallow has surprised him, in more ways than one.

She is still a shy creature of few words, but has relaxed considerably since their wedding night. She smiles and listens when he yammers on about his day and has gradually sought out his company and comfort. The more he learns about her as a person, the more besotted he becomes, realizing that their future isn’t as grim as he once believed.

Not to mention all the fun he’s having teaching her about carnal pleasures.  

Sebastian has every intention of surprising his wife with his arrival, but after sneaking up the stairs and entering the master suite, he finds it empty. He’s about to retreat and check the other rooms when he hears sloshing water from the adjoining bathroom and quietly advances. He peeks through the small gap in the door to see her relaxing comfortably in the ornate tub, head resting against the porcelain rim. Steam rises from the soapy water, the top of her breasts barely visible. It’s a delectable sight, one that nearly causes him to stride in and join her, fully clothed.

Instead, he grins and retreats, leaving her be as he prepares the room for their reunion. Sebastian sheds his coat and jacket, loosening his tie before rolling up his sleeves. He kicks off his boots and stokes the hearth so they won’t freeze. It’s only when he’s inspecting his hair and teeth in the standing mirror that he conjures a wicked idea.

Not bothering to use magic, he lifts the framed glass and sets it down by the foot of the bed, carefully angling the hinges just so. He sits, a new wave of excitement rushing through his veins as his imagination runs wild. That’s where his wife finds him when she emerges from the bathroom with bright, surprised eyes and flushed skin.

She adjusts her robe a little, a shaky smile pulling at her lips. “You’re home.”

Sebastian smirks as he takes in the sight of her, a figment of his wildest dreams come true. He extends a hand, a silent comment he knows she’ll obey. She slowly approaches, yelping when he wastes no time in pulling her onto his lap, strong arms wrapping around her waist to secure her against him.

“Did you miss me, Mrs. Sallow?” he teases, playfully nipping the tender skin on her neck. She gasps, and it’s a sound he’s come to adore. He repeats the action, adjusting her so she’s more comfortably leaning against his back. “Because I missed you.”

“You did?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he murmurs against her pulse point as his hands start to roam. “I’ve done some rearranging. I think it’s time you see for yourself how enchanting you are.”

She trembles, and he glances up to find her staring at their reflection, a brilliant blush on her cheeks. “Don’t be so demure, my love. Not when I had you screaming my name the night before I left.”

“I—I did not—”

“Yes,” he interjects, gently tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. “You did. Would you like a demonstration?”

“Gods, no!”

Sebastian loosens his grip on her, but despite her flustered state, she doesn’t flee. Instead, she leans into his embrace, sighing when his fingers slip inside her robe. Her skin is still warm from the bath, soft beneath his touch. He cups one of her breasts, and when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefingers, her head rolls back against his shoulder, lips parted in a silent moan.

“Do you want me?” he asks. She nods but he pauses, daring to pull away. “You know better than that, dear wife. Use your words.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpers. “I—I want you.”

“As you wish,” he darkly chuckles, taking his time with pulling her robe open to expose her naked flesh. The silk parts and he slips the fabric from her delicate shoulders so he can trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. With one arm tucked around her waist, he spreads her legs, hitching one over his knee and the other over his free arm so her sex is on full display. He watches the way her expression shifts in the mirror, gaze locked on his fingers as they caress her inner thigh.  

“Did you play with yourself while I was gone?” he questions, thrilled by the way her chest rises and falls with quick, little breaths. She nods again but this time he doesn’t push for more. Instead, he slides his fingers to where she needs him most, parting her folds to find her slick and ready. She melts against him with a shaky moan and her eyes flutter closed.

“None of that now,” he chides, moving the hand around her waist up to gently grasp her chin. “Open your eyes, love. I want you to watch. Watch, or I’ll stop touching you.”

She slowly peeks open her eyes before blinking to focus on their reflection, another strangled moan slipping from her lips as he circles her clit. Her hips twitch up, her body silently begging for more. Sebastian flicks his gaze back and forth between her dreamy expression and glistening center, groaning at how hard the sight makes him. As eager as he is to drop trou and sink into her, there is something incredibly gratifying in the way he makes her come undone with just his hands.

Sebastian pushes a finger into her, and she’s so hot and wet that he quickly adds a second. “Look at how well you take my fingers, love,” he praises, listening to her labored breaths as he slides his fingers in and out of her, gradually increasing the speed and depth. “Imagine how it will look when it’s my cock splitting you open.”

His lewd words only seem to arouse her further, and he groans in appreciation when he feels her inner walls clench around him. He continues to observe his own movements in the mirror, spellbound by the erotic fantasy come to life. His wife, so wanton and willing, writhing in his grasp as he pleasures her in the way only he can.

“Sebastian,” she practically whines his name and he growls against her neck, marking her with his lips and teeth. He can’t help but rock against her, his arousal still painfully restrained within his trousers. She rocks against him too, panting and mewling in desperation as he plunges his fingers deep, pressing against the tender spot that triggers her orgasm.

Only when she slumps against him does he remove his fingers, wiping some of her release across her inner thigh as he steadies her through the aftershocks. Sebastian struggles to be patient as she settles, clenching his jaw as his cock throbs for attention. Eventually, his wife lulls her head to the side to gaze at him through her eyelashes and he angles her chin again to kiss her mouth, expressing his hunger for her.

“I need you,” he rasps, swallowing her whimpers as he bites her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. Sebastian shifts her, “Fuck, I need you.”

She nods, desperation in her expression as she shifts, helping him to unclasp his trousers and tug them down far enough for his cock to spring free. He yanks off her robe completely, tossing it to the floor before pulling her back onto his lap, back flush against his chest with her hands and feet pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. The positioning is awkward, but Sebastian is intent on having her this way, so they can both witness the exquisite way she takes him.

“Perfect,” he hushes against her ear, positioning himself before grasping her waist to help her balance. “You’re so beautiful like this, my love. Mine.”

“Yours,” she replies, their eyes locked in the mirror.

A dark, possessive sound echoes from his throat and he snaps his hips up, filling her with his need. Their attention snaps to where they are joined, and Sebastian swears he might come from the sight alone. He can’t sink completely into her with the position, but he doesn’t need to, already grazing against the spot within her that makes her shiver in ecstasy.

He digs his fingers into her flesh, guiding her movements as he sets a slow, sinful pace in an effort to savor the sensation. The reflection ensnares him, a vivid display he’ll have burned into the back of his mind for the rest of his life. Sebastian snaps out of the momentary daze when he senses the telltale signs of her impending release, her entire body convulsing as her walls flutter and squeeze around him. He isn’t going to last, not like this.

“Come on, darling,” he grunts, pulling her down onto him as he curses under his breath. “Come on your husband’s cock like the good little wife you are.”

And she says she didn’t scream his name.

“That’s right, love,” he murmurs, his voice cracking as he feels his release rapidly approaching. He shouts her name in kind, clutching her close as he groans and spills into her. “Mine,” he repeats, over and over as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure.

She’s still trembling when he finally withdraws a few moments later, and Sebastian uses the last of his strength to gather her up in his arms before placing her comfortably in the bed. He stretches out beside her exhausted form, smiling as he presses lazy kisses to her shoulder.

“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Sallow,” he whispers, tucking himself close. She turns her head to look at him, and he swears there’s an emotion in her gaze not present before that makes his heart skip a beat. She smiles, kissing him softly.

“Happy Christmas, Mr. Sallow.”

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 💛

[coeurify]

“it’s november.”

the words have you jumping, the unsolid, rounded edges of the stool you’re currently standing on wobble with the movement of your foot. a squeak follows, rushing to find your balance— which is found by pressing your hand against the wall you were trying to reach the top of.

the hand used is … currently holding a string of multi colored christmas lights, the green trail of side dropping below you, your stool and the wall you had already pinned them to.

“it’s november,” the voice repeats— belonging to your girlfriend ellie, who walks behind you and peers up. the sweater she wears is pushed up to her elbows, pooling the cloth in a way that makes her look a little silly. as silly as the tone of voice she uses as she continues her obvious teasing. “and you’re already putting christmas lights up?”

your lips pout out immediately at the words, huffing as you press your sock clad feet. “november is almost over el. this is an absolutely valid time to put these up.” you wave your hand holding the clump of lights around, much more steady on your little wooden stool you were using for some added height.

“babe, thanksgiving hasn’t even passed,” ellie continues— and you can see her shaking her head even out of the corner of your eye as your head turns back to the wall— jaw clenching as you press up on your toes again to hand the light over the next pin. the small chuckle that the sight of you struggling to reach the spot seems to bring only annoys you more— head snapping to look over your shoulder with a look ellie liked to call your ‘scary eyes.’

“you can’t even— baby you can’t even reach. how did you get all that up?” ellie tries not to laugh but she can’t help it, the bursts of giggles slipping from her lips before she can stop them, green eyes trailing over the soft and cozy living room you two shared. somehow, alone with your little shitty stool.. you had covered at least half of the room while she was napping. “let me help,” she offered, a hand reaching out to steady your leg.

“no!” you complain, kicking your leg out a little to shrug off her hand. it only brings the wood below you to rock some more, which makes ellie grip a little harder. “you’re being judgy. i don’t want your help.” you sound petulant, maybe a little hurt by her amusement that you were doing this now.. alone.

“i am not being judgy,” ellie soothes her hand over your leg as you reach forward and successfully hook the sting of wired lights over the next spot. “you are, and you’re basically the same height as me— you can’t reach shit either.” you continue, the dig at her height a teasing one, paired with an eyebrow raise and fleeting glance back at her.

“ow?” ellie’s free hand clamped over her chest in faux hurt— the ragged cut strands of deep auburn hair shaking with her head. you find yourself watching the movement and fighting away a smile. “i meant by keeping you steady but if you wanna be mean i can totally let you do it all.” ellie pinches your leg over the fuzzy sweatpants you’re wearing. if it was anyone else you might be a little worried she was actually hurt.. but you can hear the humor seeping into her words and drawing out her sentences.

“fine,” the sigh that comes with the tingle word makes it seem like this decision was just absolutely the most difficult one you’ve had to make— the dramatics always evident. “i guess you can help. but only if you quit saying i’m doing it too early.”

honestly, you had planned to finish this little light hanging before she was done with her nap. she worked a long day with joel, you wanted to surprise her. and okay.. maybe you had seen one or two too many videos about the holidays that had given you the itch to decorate something and right then. but clearly the surprise element was lost, and ellie’s sarcastic taunting had replaced it. so now maybe you’re doing it out of spite. who knows, maybe you’ll even put on the santa clause after.

ellie’s fingers raise to her mouth, fake zipping them and nodding quickly. the urge to roll your eyes is one you act on, scoffing at her before you turn again and feel the steady warmth of her hands on both of your legs now, shifting you a little bit further down the wall for the next spot.

your lip falls between your teeth again, toes straining against your feet as you push as high as you can to get the next spot and—

“okay but you can admit most people wait for after thanksgiving right?”

“ellie!”

[angelyuji]

dear diary

bruce wayne x reader (kinktober week 4)

tw // stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, masturbation, pattinson!bruce is silly and a cutiepie

18+! minors dni!

november 1 : riddler’s floor has left the city a mess. i can barely hold on, helping the people affected and trying to understand what’s going on with penguin. i can’t focus.

november 5: you’re pretty. you were getting mugged when i came. you looked pretty as you cried, arms wrapped around my neck. i asked if you wanted me to escort you home and you nodded so cutely. you’re apartment was as cute as you, every decoration was an extension of you. you’re so pretty, (y/n).

november 8: i broke into your home when you were at work. i wanted to be closer to you, i want to know things about you no one else does. your apartment smells like you, the shampoo, the detergent, your perfume. i felt myself get overwhelmed as blood rushed down there. it’s hard to keep myself contained. for now, i’ll keep an eye on you. just in case.

november 15: you leave your windows wide open; you always do. you drop your bag on the couch and start your routine. crossing the date off on your calendar with a purple sharpie, you turn on your oven for a store-bought pizza and head to your room. you slowly undress in your bedroom, standing in front of the mirror and checking your face. i can see every curve, every mark on your body. you’re so beautiful. a car horn surprised the both of us, bringing me back to patrol and you start to pull on pajamas. i wish i could touch you, show you how beautiful you are. i’ll come visit tomorrow, to make sure you’re safe.

november 20: the city was restless as thanksgiving neared. i guess even the darkness in the city would panic as the holiday approached. i watched you restlessly flit through the apartment, setting up couches and beds. one moment you were in the living room, setting up coaches, and the next you were in the kitchen, mixing things in pots. i wish i was there with you, helping you, meeting your family… i need to keep my focus on gotham.

november 28: i told myself to leave you alone, but i managed to end up in front of your apartment once again. i’m sure alfred will laugh at me. i watch you with your family, smiling and laughing. i need to feel you. fuck, i need to clear my head.

december 13: i caught myself watching old recordings of you. just one glance at your bare skin and i can feel my resolve crumbling. i wish i could bring you here, so i could just stop thinking of you all the time.

december 20: i dreamt about you. it felt so real. i could feel your soft arms wrapped tightly around my neck as i plow into you, desperate and aching. i woke up hearing your moans in my head and my thighs sticky with my own cum. i felt like i was 13 again, cleaning the sheets while alfred slept. look at what you’re doing to me, (y/n).

december 24: i got careless. i thought i saw you and i got careless, stabbed in the side by a scared kid stealing from an atm. in the haze of blood-loss, i hadn’t realized where i ended up until i saw your eyes peering down at me. “shit.” i heard myself talk without realizing. your warm hands helped me up, and i felt a laugh bubbling out of me as you shoved me through the open window into your apartment. every noise you make is so cute, i barely registered the pain. i felt myself hit the floor when it all went dark.

december 25: the first words you said when i opened my eyes: “merry christmas!” you smile sheepishly, i could feel your hands fixing my bandages. i felt the cowl on my head, untouched, but somehow you had taken off my suit. “sorry, google told me to change them every couple hours, so i bought a bunch of supplies while you were… asleep.” you look away. i try to sit up and you help me settle in.

“why did you help me?” my voice sounded rough and you bring a cup of water to my lips. i drink from the cup, water spills down my chin and you use a hand to wipe it away. i feel my heart skip a beat at the loving touch.

you shrug, “you saved my life before. how could i leave gotham’s knight dying at my fire escape?” i feel a smile pull at my lips. every glance, every involuntary movement, every word, everything about you made my heart swell.

i couldn’t trust my words, so i hum. night comes quickly and you put on a movie, feeding me slowly. it was nice, it was everything i had dreamt of. you are everything i imagined and more… you’re perfect.

december 26: you woke up, confused and scared, screaming at me. i’m sure it’ll be hard at first, but with time, you’ll get used to your new home. alfred had disapproved at first, but he knows how happy you make me, how much more careful i’ll be. i won’t have to worry about you anymore, knowing you’re home with me forever.

[b3ach-bunn7]

I THINK YOU WERE IN MY PROFILE PICTURE ONCE PT 2

After the party, Touya can’t stop thinking about you.

Fluff, sfw, no quirk au

—————————————————————————

It’s been six days and Touya can’t stop thinking about you.

He had been right about the party. The end of it at least. He’d shaken you awake and you rushed off to find your friend, a smile and wave goodbye all he had to remember you by. You were late, apparently, too late to stop and give him anything to remember you by. He’d gone home soon after, slipping out before Hawks could berate him for leaving too early.

While Touya had settled for less, had made peace with the fact that you were to be another girl he’d spoken too at a party, he hadn’t been able to get you out of your head. For whatever reason he didn’t want you to just be another girl at a party he’d never speak to again. Touya wanted to see you again and he had no idea how.

What makes the situation ten times worse is he didn’t even get your name. He’s racked his brain for the past couple days and he had come to the embarrassing conclusion that not only did he not get your number, but he was also stupid enough not to ask you what you're called. Maybe if Touya had managed that, he could find your socials. A friend in your course could find your number. Or he could convince Fuyumi to do her weird girly stalk thing and find your mother’s Facebook. But alas, he could do none of that. 

Touya yawns. He scratches at the stubble that’s been growing on his face the past few mornings. It’s a rare day when the weather is warm enough in November for him to wear a short-sleeve, and he abuses the chance while he can. It’s shifts like this, where the shop is empty apart from a few dawdling customers he knows aren’t here to get anything done, that everything drags on.

Touya had (un)subtly hinted at his friend's tattoo and piercing shop because he works there, and it’d be an ample opportunity for him to see you again. Of course, in the past six days he hadn’t seen your face, but that was neither here nor there. It was a nice joint. It looks like any other tattoo shop, designs hung up on the walls, one side of the shop filled with shelves of piercings and jewellery. One side was reserved for tattooing and the other for piercing. Touya works in both parts of the shop, wherever he’s needed most. He has plenty of piercings to prove it but he’s never gotten any tattoos. His skin is marred enough as is. 

The pay was good, and the hours weren’t long. Touya gets on annoyingly well with his coworkers, too. They’re all his age apart from Toga, who, funnily enough, is the same age as Shoto. That’s where all their similarities end, though. She’s loud and full of annoyingly eager energy that he’s grown fond of, unfortunately. The only thing his job is missing in a pretty girl with shitty wired headphones

Touya drums his fingers against the counter. The day has been slow and his fingers itch to do something. Touya thinks, in another life, he might’ve been an artist. Touya loved drawing and painting and all forms of it, but even his mother wouldn’t let him choose it for university. And she never said no to him. Psychology was a second best, another interest he’d dug up from his ass when he realised he actually was going to make it past fifteen.

A job like this, where some shifts Touya can just sit and draw and design things for people, It’s his dream. Maybe he’ll open up a therapist agency next door so he can keep working here part-time.

Touya decides drawing is what he’ll do. He’s got a couple clients expecting things from him. He grabs a scrap of paper from under the desk. The first biro he finds is pink, and he lets spirals and flowers and whatever designs pop up in his head spread across the page. 

“Hey, it’s you!”

Touya thinks that maybe he might have fallen asleep and started dreaming when he hears your voice. But then he looks up, and there you are, grinning like Christmas has come early. You’re wearing a black coat and a scarf, thick and long enough he’s sure you can use it as a blanket. Your jeans are embroidered, colourful flowers leaving a trail down your thighs, and when Touya’s eyes flick back up to your face your cheeks are dusted red from the cold.

“Why the hell are you wearing a short sleeve shirt? Are you mad? It’s freezing out.” You huff, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck.

Touya just watches you. The logical part of his brain tells him that he should probably say something, but instead he just watches as you shrug your coat off. You’re wearing a shirt with what he thinks might be an album cover. Its red and green and yellow, splatters of watercolour, not something he recognises. Touya hopes you’ll play it for him. You finally look up at him, stuffing your earbuds in your pockets.

“You’re awfully quiet today.” You smile.

You lean against the counter, mimicking his position. The two of you are just a little too close for any average customer and cashier interaction, but he doesn’t care, and he is pretty sure you don’t either.

“Just shocked. Didn’t think you’d take me up on the piercing offer.” Touya says.

“Well. I was promised someone called Shiggy, not my nap partner.” Touya snorts at your words and you smile slightly.

Touya gestures around the shop. You follow his hands, looking around the empty store, before landing back on him.

“We’re empty. Only one working right now is me.”

“Well. That doesn’t sound up to code.”

Touya shrugs. “We’re always quiet at this time. My boss is in the back and my coworker is on the way. I’m the best guy here for the job.”

You hum under your breath, nodding. You bite at your thumbnail. Touya tilts his head slightly, and you smile at him nervously. 

“You doing alright?” He asks.

“Yes. Well. No. I’m scared.”

“What are you looking to get done today?” Touya walks round the counter, leaning one hip on it and crossing his arms. Your eyes dart very briefly to his biceps and he is suddenly very thankful he wore a short sleeve today, and that he’d gone to the gym yesterday.

“A piercing.”

“Which one?”

“I’m thinking nipples?”

Touya stammers. He can feel his ears redden and you last all of five seconds with a straight face before you burst out laughing.

“It’s a joke! I’m joking!” You cackle, hands up in the air. “The look on your face!”

Touya rolls his eyes as you wipe tears from under your own, turning his head so you don’t see the flush on his face. “Ha Ha. Very funny.”

“I know, I’m hilarious. What I actually want is a nose piercing.” You tap the side of your nose and Touya nods.

“Okay, cool. That’ll be twenty, including a stud.” 

He reaches under the counter and grabs a consent form. He passes you a pen and gestures you over.

“Here, sign this. Just a safety thing.”

He watches as you scribble your name at the bottom. It’s pretty. Suits you. You bite at your bottom lip and he smiles slightly. You’re not saying anything, but the nerves sit clearly on your face.

“You’ll be fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” He reassures.

You glance up at him and worry darts across your face. “You mean it?” You ask, passing back the form. 

Touya starts walking further into the shop and you follow next to him. “Yes, I’m sure. You can hold my hand if you’re really that scared.” He teases.

“Shut up. I might have to. I feel like I’m going to pass out.” You huff.

Touya lets the two of you into a room. You sit down on the chair in the middle of it, and Touya starts grabbing all the things he needs. The disinfectant, a mirror, the needle. You’re too quiet, and when he glances behind him you’re staring at him.

He shakes the disinfectant in the air. “Enjoying the show?”

“Shut up.” 

He brings all the stuff to the small table next to you. Touya puts his hands on his hips and you look up at him.

“What?”

“You still look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

You shove him away. “Shut up. Again. Just get it over with.” 

Touya laughs. “Okay, okay. So. I’m going to use a pen to mark where I’m going to do it. Then I’ll grab the needle and you take a big breath in. And when you breathe out I pierce you and it’s done.” 

He puts on a pair of black gloves as he speaks. He acts like he doesn’t see your eyes following his movements, the lithe movements of his fingers. 

You look back up at his face. “Okay. That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Touya nods. “It’s not. Now you want it on the left or right?” He passes you a mirror and you look through it.

“What do you think will look good?” 

“I think you’ll look pretty with both.”

“Aw. You think I’m pretty?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Pretty good. Is what I meant to say. Maybe ugly even.”

You giggle and he grabs the mirror out of your hand. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll do the right side.”

Touya nods. His hand comes up and turns your face to the side, fingers grazing your jaw. The touch is fleeting but it makes him nervous. Like he’s thirteen with a crush on his babysitter. He clears his throat, desperate to distract from how close the two of you are right now.

“So. What made you change your mind about getting something done?”

“Well. I kept thinking about you.” 

It’s Touya’s turn to raise an eyebrow and watch your face redden under his gaze.

“Aw. You were thinking about me?”

You smile cheekily. “Of course! That was the best thirty minute nap I’ve had in my life. I’ve been chasing that high ever since.”

Touya scoffs slightly. His hand finds your jaw again, lifting up your face. You words stutter slightly as he does so. The room settles into soft silence and he reaches forward and dots your nose with his marker. He leans back slightly and you’re close, close enough that he can see the fluffiness of your eyelashes, the blemishes on your skin. You smell so good, something sweet and girly and he breathes it in, scared he’ll forget. Your eyes are trailing over his face, just like how Touya’s doing to you. 

Touya steps back. He needs to be professional. He needs to calm down before he throws himself on you. 

“That's all I am to you? A shoulder to nap on?” He pouts and you laugh.

“Something like that. I also realised I never got your number. Or your socials. Or even your name.” You say.

Touya grabs the needle, sanitising it quickly and tossing the wet wipe away. “I also realised that. I'm Touya, by the way.” 

You say your name back and he nods. “Pretty.”

“You can’t flirt with your customers, Touya. Very unprofessional.”

His name sounds so soft on your tongue, and he wants you to say it again, never stop saying it.

“Who said I’m flirting?”

“You call all your customers pretty?” “Only the ones who can’t stop thinking about me.” 

You roll your eyes. Touya is tall enough that when he drags over a stool and sits down he still towers over you a little. Your fingers grip the edge of the chair you’re sitting on. You eye the needle in his hands and he hides it behind his back.

“Don’t look. You’ll freak yourself out more.” He chides, and you huff.

“What, should I just keep my eyes shut the whole time?”

Touya shrugs. “If you want. I’ll talk you through it.” 

Your eyes widen slightly and Touya laughs nervously.

“Like- I’ll tell you what I’m doing. By talking. While I’m doing it. It- the piercing.” 

You smile teasingly and he taps your knee so you’ll close your eyes, before you see how flustered he looks. You comply quickly, and god you’re just so beautiful. You swing your legs slightly and it’s only when confusion teases at the edges of your eyebrows he realises he’s been staring at you like a freak for so long. In silence. 

Touya’s voice is low when he speaks again. “Alright. I need you to breathe in for me.”

Your chest rises as you breathe in quickly. “And I’ll countdown, and when I reach one you breathe out quickly and I pierce you. Easy, right?”

You nod. Your eyes are screwed shut and Touya thinks you feel the shiver that runs down his spine when you reach forward and grab his forearm. Right over his scars. You don’t seem to care though, fingers finding comfort in him despite the marred skin on his body. 

“Three. Two. One.” 

You breathe out loudly and the needle goes through. Your eyes water slightly and your grip on him tightens.

“Good girl, see? Wasn’t that bad.” He soothes, putting the stud in your nose. 

He places the needle onto the table and grabs the mirror. Your eyes are still shut tightly and you’re still holding onto him. Touya takes off his gloves and pats your hand.

“You can look now.” He says. 

You open your eyes and take the mirror from his hand. Your face lights up lightly and you let go of him to touch the piercing gingerly, and he misses the cooling touch of your fingertips immediately.

“Wow. It’s cute! And it didn’t even hurt that bad, either.”

“I told you.” 

You sigh happily. And then you look at Touya again. He feels nervous under your gaze, so intense and so focused on him.

“Thank you, Touya.”

“Its, uh. It’s no issue. It’s my job.”

The two of you talk as he leads you back to the counter, basic housekeeping for your new piercing,  but he can’t help but think about the fact you’re going to leave and he might not see you again for god knows how long. As nervous as you make him Touya is not going to pussy out twice.

“So. What are you doing in two hours?” He asks, leaning over the counter.

You pause from where you’re cocooning back into your puffer coat and scarf. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Me?”

“No, the other person standing in front of me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You loop your scarf around your neck before looking back up at him.

“Nothing. What are you doing in two hours?”

“Taking you out, hopefully.” He says.

You laugh nervously, face heating, and god if you keep looking at him like that he’s going to get fired for doing indecent things to a customer.

“Alright, Touya. You want me to meet you back here?”

“Nah, I’ll come pick you up.” 

You nod, biting back a smile. “Well. In that case.”

You grab the pink biro Touya had forgotten on the counter. And then your hands, still cold compared to the heat that blooms against his skin, wrap around his wrist and drag him closer. You lean over slightly, writing you number across the small of his arm.

“God, you’re so warm.” You mumble, ending the long string of numbers with a poorly drawn heart.

“You’re hands are freezing.” He replies.

And before he really thinks he’s grabbing your hand in his own, and both of your hands could fit in one of his, and god he is a creep. You just smile though, squeezing once before letting go to grab your bag.

“Good think I’ve got you to warm them up for me.” You grin, waggling your fingers in the air.

Touya just nods. Your grin widens at his silence, and before he knows it you’re waving goodbye and he’s left wishing you’d come back.

—————————————————————————

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE 🥳it took me a scarily long time to finish this 😭i had sooo much uni work I literally had no time but I’ve been (once again) in love with Touya so I had to finish this fic

This was heavily based on a post I saw from @tragikomizm of artstudent! Touya that I LOVED so deffo check out her stuff!

Anyways I hope u all enjoyed :P I really do love writing these and I will try and get more stuff out! Also if anyone has any good ao3 fic reccoemndation (happy endings plz) PLZ COMMENT I JEED SMTH TO READ!