#just in time for another holiday season

[goforth-ladymidnight]

A Second Chance, Ch. 15

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @northern-polaris @taymartiart @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged.)

I feel like I owe each one of you an apology for that last cliffhanger. I hope this chapter makes up for it. ❤️

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Word Count: 7.7k (It's a long one!)

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien have a much needed heart-to-heart

Read on AO3, or read on below:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Jurian had asked as Tamlin unfastened his seat belt. “I don’t want you to be stranded or anything.”

“I’m sure,” Tamlin had said, not sounding sure at all. “Besides, I don’t know how long it’s going to take. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Do you even know what you’re going to say?”

Tamlin sighed, curling his fingers around the door handle. “Not yet.”

Jurian’s thumb tapped against the steering wheel as he looked away. “Yeah. Me, neither.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, even though it was going to snow soon. The sky was heavy with it. The only question was whether it was going to be the sort of storm you made hot cocoa for before snuggling under the covers with a loved one, or if it was the sort of storm where you prayed that the roads were still open afterwards.

“I hope…” Tamlin trailed off, because he wasn’t quite sure what to hope for. That Vassa would be understanding? That Lucien would hear him out? That they would all live happily ever after?

“Yeah,” Jurian sighed, as if he knew what Tamlin was thinking. “Me, too.”

They nodded solemnly at each other before Tamlin gathered the courage to open the door and step out into the cold.

He was braced for a storm… He just didn’t know what kind it was going to be.

Looking at Lucien now, standing in his apartment, Tamlin still wasn’t sure… but he could hope.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

Lucien looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Tamlin didn’t blame him. They hadn’t parted under the fondest of circumstances. “Yeah,” Lucien squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Do you… do you want to sit down, or…?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “I’ve been sitting for a while,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure when you were coming back, and I didn’t want to assume I was still welcome, so…”

“Of course you are,” Lucien declared, taking a step forward, then flinched back. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I… I shouldn’t have—”

Tamlin stopped him. “It’s okay,” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, not really—” He noticed Lucien’s wince. “—But I know why you did it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m just… I’m so fucking scared.”

Lucien’s head jerked back. “You’re scared? Why?”

Tamlin swallowed hard, then gestured to the chairs. “Maybe we should sit down,” he said hoarsely.

“Okay.” Lucien didn’t even stop to take off his coat before joining Tamlin in one of the easy chairs in front of the fire.

While Tamlin appreciated the space, he also missed sharing the same piece of furniture with his boyfriend… Come to think of it, were they still boyfriends? Or had he ruined everything by lashing out? It wouldn’t be the first time… but he couldn’t think about that now.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then braced his arms on his knees and wrung his hands and watched the flames dance through the grate.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he told Lucien quietly. “You know, about what you said, about your brother taking on my case. It’s not that I don’t want his help, but… what if no one believes me?”

“I believe you,” Lucien tried to interject, then apologized for interrupting.

Tamlin nodded sadly. “I know, but… Amarantha convinced everyone that I had a mental breakdown. She could spin this story any way she wanted. Maybe I tried drugging her and ended up drugging myself. Or… after I met her, I became obsessed, and that’s why I tried breaking into her house.”

Lucien sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I won’t lie. There is a chance that she could try that. It doesn’t mean that it would work, but that’s just how trials go sometimes. Reasonable doubt, and all that.”

“You know what’s worse than that, though?” Tamlin murmured.

“What?”

Tamlin’s throat tightened. “What if I have a kid?” he whispered. “What if Amarantha got exactly what she wanted: A baby with blond hair and green eyes and musical ability and god knows what else. They’d be about six years old, now.”

He shook his head, because he could picture it all too well.

“If I take her to court and I lose, what’s next? Will she sue me for failing to pay child support?” he went on. “I can’t afford that. I can barely afford to take care of myself, and that’s with Jurian’s help…” He sighed. “What if she wants me to have court-ordered visitation, or even give our kid music lessons? Ugh. Even saying that makes me sick.”

He wiped his mouth. “I never wanted this. But… I don’t want my kid to feel unwanted, either.”

Lucien gave him a sad look. “Do you have any idea if Amarantha actually has a kid, or…?”

“No. I made Jurian promise that he would never tell me if he knew, or even let me find out. I mean, I’ve wondered, from time to time, because working for a private investigator makes it so easy, but… Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

Lucien just stared at him, and Tamlin dropped his head in shame.

“It sounds crazy, I know,” he muttered. “I don’t even know if this kid exists. I could be getting all worked up over nothing… Maybe I have lousy sperm, I don’t know.”

“Tam.”

The seriousness of Lucien’s tone made him pause. “What?”

Lucien cocked his head. “You don’t have lousy sperm. I promise.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

Tamlin stared at him, uncomprehending, then when it hit him, he covered his mouth with his hand to smother his snort. “That wasn’t supposed to make me feel better.”

Lucien’s lips still twitched even as he shrugged. “It’s true, though.”

Tamlin’s smile faded, however, and he ran a hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but… it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Lucien said gently. “I’d be scared, too.”

Tamlin face grew warm as he stared at the tops of his shoes. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you were just trying to help.”

“Please. Don’t apologize—”

“No. I have to,” Tamlin insisted, and lifted his head. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Tam…” Lucien got up only to get down on his knees in front of Tamlin’s chair. With his big brown eyes gazing up at him and his auburn hair framed by firelight, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale. He placed a gentle hand on Tamlin’s knee. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I’m not going anywhere.”

Tamlin blinked back sudden tears.

“I should have told you from the start,” Lucien said ruefully. “You know, about Eris taking on your case. I just thought that… Actually, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should have known you weren’t ready for this. And you know what? It’s okay if you’re never ready. It’s okay to just move on. No matter what you decide, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I promise.”

Tamlin sniffed, and wiped his wet cheek. “You promise?”

Lucien nodded. “And if you need space, I’ll give you that, too. Whatever you want.”

Tamlin managed a deep breath, then took Lucien’s hand as he stood, pulling him to his feet. “I don’t want space,” he said quietly.

Lucien’s eyes searched his. He seemed so hopeful that Tamlin wanted to think he was already forgiven, but he had to make sure.

Still, he felt almost… shy, holding Lucien’s hand like a gawky teenager instead of the grown man that he was. Even though they had just had hot gay sex just the night before. Embarrassed about what he was about to say next, he dropped his gaze to their joined hands and whispered, “Can… can we go back to being boyfriends now?”

“Did you think we weren’t?”

Tamlin’s face flushed. “After I lost my temper, I wasn’t sure…”

Lucien squeezed his fingers. “You had every right to be mad at me,” he said gently. “And yeah, I was worried you never wanted to see me again, but… I never stopped wanting to be your boyfriend.”

“Neither did I.”

“Good.” Lucien reached up to tuck Tamlin’s hair behind his ear, then smiled when he met his gaze. “Seven hours apart is nothing,” he teased gently. “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t turn into another seven years, okay?”

Tamlin nodded, his throat strangely tight. “Okay.”

Lucien leaned in halfway, then hesitated, but Tamlin knew what he wanted, because he wanted that, too. When he brought his lips to Lucien’s mouth, their kiss was almost chaste in its softness, but it lingered in its longing.

“Thank you,” Lucien breathed, as though in prayer.

“For what,” Tamlin whispered, as though they were in a church.

“For forgiving me. For keeping secrets from you. I know I shouldn’t have…”

Tamlin sighed, and reluctantly pulled away, but not far enough away to drop Lucien’s hand. “It’s not like I haven’t been keeping secrets, too,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.

Lucien’s lips pursed into a tight smile. “Well, you trusted me with your biggest one, and I went and told my brothers and my mom, so…”

“You told your mom?”

Lucien winced. “Yeah. Alex and I went to see her after… after what happened this morning. For what it’s worth,” he added quickly, “she’s on your side in all this. She thinks Amarantha should rot in hell, if not prison, and she said I shouldn’t have done anything behind your back, even if I meant well.”

Tamlin sighed. That was some comfort, at least. “How is she?”

“My mom? She’s good. Great, actually. Here—” Lucien dropped his hand to rush for the bags he’d dropped by the door. “—She made cookies. I hope you like gingerbread. Oh! And I got you another Christmas present. Two of them, actually. Merry Hanukkah, Tam.”

Tamlin took a half-step back as Lucien pressed three bags into his arms.

“This is all for me?” he said numbly.

“Of course!”

“But… I yelled at you…”

Lucien waved dismissively. “I bought these before that. Then afterwards, I wasn’t sure when I would be able to give them to you, so they’re not wrapped or anything—”

“Lu…”

“—I hope you don’t mind. I still have—let’s see—five gifts left to give you. Four, if you count the cookies—”

“Lucien.”

Lucien stopped, startled. “What?”

Tamlin gave him a wincing smile. “You don’t have to do this.”

Lucien’s shoulders slumped a bit. “But I want to. You’re so special to me… I just want to show you how I feel…”

Tamlin’s face flushed in shame. “I just… I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do—”

“No. I don’t.”

Lucien looked truly confused, and somewhat hurt, too. “Why not?”

Tamlin took a deep breath, then gently set his gifts on the chair behind him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done,” he said slowly, then wrung his hands. “I told you I had secrets, but what happened seven years ago is only part of it.”

Lucien’s eyes widened. “There’s more?”

Tamlin raised a shoulder and let it fall. “I think I’m the reason your last boyfriend broke up with you.”

Lucien looked at him askance. “Huh?”

“Well, you know I work for a private eye, right?”

“Yeah… And?”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “So about three years ago, your dad hired Jurian to take pictures of some woman who was dating one of his sons.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Jesminda.’ I didn’t know she was a drag queen. He? I don’t know. I just know that I didn’t want to be involved, because I knew you, or at least I used to, and I just couldn’t face you. Even if you never saw me.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, but he remained silent.

Tamlin had to finish his story, and quickly. “Anyway, I made Jurian do it alone, which he was pretty pissed about, but it was made worse by the fact that your dad never paid up, because the woman wasn’t actually a woman. I thought it must have been a case of mistaken identity or something, which pissed Jurian off even more because he’s actually good at what he does… but by then it was too late. I didn’t realize Jessie and Jesminda were the same person until you told me on Saturday.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “So our breakup is your fault… how?”

Tamlin blinked in surprise. “Well… I thought that—”

“That if you had taken Jessie’s pictures instead, my dad wouldn’t have realized his secret identity?” Lucien snorted. “Yeah, my dad was pissed about me dating a drag queen, but he didn’t cut me off because I’m gay. He cut me off because of how much I was spending on my boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

Lucien shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he approves of me being gay. It’d be a pretty bad look for the CEO of a major corporation to publicly come out against his gay son, when the company is all about family, so this was his secret way of punishing me.”

Tamlin winced. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” Lucien shrugged again and looked away. “Besides, Jessie could have stuck around if he wanted to, but he didn’t. And that’s not your fault, either.”

Tamlin sighed. At least that was one less thing to worry about, even if it was unfortunate.

“Is that all?”

“Is what all?”

Lucien smiled a sad half-smile. “The last of your terrible secrets? You haven’t scared me away yet, you know.”

Tamlin blew out his cheeks. “Well, there is one more,” he said hesitantly.

Lucien huffed a laugh and shook his head at the ceiling. “All right, big guy,” he said wryly. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“I’m serious.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “Okay.”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “It’s about Vassa.”

Lucien straightened. “What about Vassa?”

Tamlin’s heart skipped a beat. This might be the moment where he lost Lucien forever. “That day in the bookstore… I was doing surveillance.”

“Okay…”

“I didn’t know you were Vassa’s friend,” Tamlin said quickly. “I was just supposed to verify that a woman matching Vassa’s description was here in Prythian. We were hired to take pictures and send them back to some guy in Scythia. I don’t even know what he wanted with them, and it wasn’t my job to find out. But the second I saw you, I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Because I was Vassa’s friend,” Lucien repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” Tamlin said, and his hopes for forgiveness wilted.

Lucien breathed out a heavy sigh, then turned and ran a hand over his hair. “This is not good.”

“I know.”

“Does Vassa know?”

Tamlin lifted his palms, then let them fall. “Jurian dropped me off before driving out to Vassa’s hotel. He was going to tell her tonight.”

“That he’s been spying on her?”

“No,” Tamlin said firmly. “He went to tell her that he won’t be spying on her. He turned down the job. This Koschei guy was willing to pay through the nose for those photos, and Jurian refused.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. We really could have used the money, too.”

Lucien looked skeptical. “All for a few lousy photos?”

“Well, not just any photos,” Tamlin said, somewhat defensively. “Photos of Vassa.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know. Just photos of her standing on the street. Proof that she was in Prythian, I guess.”

“So, not like… nude…?”

Tamlin made a face. “No. Of course not. We don’t do stuff like that.”

“Oh.” Lucien scratched at his scar, looking pink, then he dropped his hand with a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because it sounds terrible,” Tamlin declared. “The only reason I was in the bookstore that day was to do a job. And I couldn’t exactly tell you why I was there when the target was standing right next to you.”

“The target being Vassa… Not me.”

Tamlin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

Lucien blew out his cheeks and tiredly ran a hand over his hair. “I hate to say it, but I’m actually kind of disappointed,” he said with a sad chuckle.

Tamlin’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid you would be.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I am disappointed that you felt like you had to keep all of this a secret, but… I’m more disappointed that you weren’t there for me.”

Tamlin smiled sadly. “I kind of was, though.”

“Oh?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I hung around a lot longer than I was supposed to. It was so nice hearing your voice… Watching you choose books with Vassa… I kind of thought she was your girlfriend, at first.”

Lucien snorted, and tried to hide his smile behind his hand. “Sorry. But you’re not a very good detective, are you?”

Tamlin’s face turned warm. “I never said I was. Jurian’s the detective, not me.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “So, you really stuck around… for me?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think I would have had the courage to say anything before you left, but… I wanted to. I was surprised at how badly I wanted to.”

“What did you want to say?”

Tamlin gestured back and forth. “‘Hey.’ ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good to see you.’ ‘How have you been?’ ‘It’s been a long time’…” He took a deep breath and dropped his hands. “‘I missed you.’”

Lucien’s eyes glistened. “God knows how much I missed you.”

Tamlin managed a smile, though it was a teary one. “I wish I could have told you… under different circumstances.”

Lucien nodded sadly. “Me, too,” he murmured, then took a deep breath. “So, really? You’re not going to turn in Vassa’s photos?”

“We never took any.”

“Good. That’s good.” Lucien nodded distractedly. “Now, what did you say that guy’s name was? Koschei?”

“Yeah, Koschei. Why? Do you know him?”

“No. Vassa just told me she was on the run from some pretty bad guys, and she needed a quiet place to stay and lay low for a while.”

Tamlin blanched. “She’s on the run? Really?”

Lucien nodded grimly. “She didn’t want to tell me, but I did ask. You know how nosy I am.”

Tamlin winced. “You were just being a good friend.”

“A good friend wouldn’t have asked in the first place,” Lucien countered, then he sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know all the details, but she’s safe now. She’s staying in a hotel under my name until she can find more permanent arrangements. It’s the least I could do, since we knew each other from before.”

“When she drank you under the table back in college,” Tamlin remembered.

Lucien rolled his eyes skyward before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am going to kill Alex for telling you that,” he muttered.

Tamlin bit back a chuckle, then his smile faded. “I didn’t know you and Vassa were so close,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the job, but… I couldn’t. Besides, she was just a name on a piece of paper to me, back then. She’s not now, obviously, but for all I knew, this guy Koschei just wanted to find her so that he could get his stuff back. You know, like a bad breakup. Who gets to keep the hoodie, and all that.”

Lucien cocked his head. “A hoodie? Really?”

Tamlin spread his hands wide. “You would not believe some of the things people try to hire us for. It gets weird.”

Lucien breathed a laugh, then sighed and shook his head. “I guess I can’t blame you for trying to do your job,” he said quietly.

“It was just a job,” Tamlin agreed. “Until it wasn’t.”

Lucien nodded, looking thoughtful. “I guess it all worked out in the end, anyway,” he mused. “Out of all the private eyes in the city, Koschei picked the ones who actually have a conscience.”

“Hey, we’re not all sleazy,” Tamlin joked, then grew serious. “Jurian really does care for her, you know. In case you were wondering.”

“I didn’t wonder,” Lucien said gently. “But you know, if nothing else, I’m glad she has someone else to talk to. Scythian isn’t the most common language around here.”

“That’s why Koschei hired us,” Tamlin agreed. “Well, he hired Jurian, I mean. I’m just the assistant.”

Lucien smirked. “His cute assistant.”

Tamlin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Koschei doesn’t know what I look like.”

“That’s too bad,” Lucien teased. “You might get a lot more business if people knew what a good-looking guy you are… Then again, maybe it’s better that they don’t.”

Tamlin blushed deeper, though he smiled. “Yeah, it kinda defeats the purpose of being a private eye, otherwise.”

“Yeah,” Lucien murmured.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the crackle of the flames, but it was not an uncomfortable silence.

“You know,” Tamlin mused. “If it hadn’t been for this job, I never would have gone into that bookstore that day. Who knows when we might have seen each other again?”

“I mean, you had the chance three years ago, when I was with Jessie,” Lucien began, then stopped himself. “But you weren’t ready to see me, yet… I guess.”

“And you were dating someone else,” Tamlin reminded him.

Lucien nodded and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Yeah, I was,” he murmured.

The silence was not as comfortable this time.

After a long pause, Tamlin offered shyly, “If it had to happen, I’m kind of glad it happened this way. Even if Koschei was responsible for making it happen.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “How about we give Vassa the credit for this one,” he said thoughtfully. “When we tell people the story of how we met, and met again, let’s just say it’s because of Vassa.”

Tamlin’s head jerked back in surprise. “You want to tell people the story of how we met?”

Lucien smiled. “Of course. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Tamlin threw his arms around Lucien and held him tight.

“Whoa. Hey,” Lucien said with a surprised chuckle. “You okay, there, Tam?”

Tamlin nodded and buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder as Lucien’s arms slid around him. “I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me for this,” he mumbled. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Lucien gave him a firm squeeze, then pulled away to look into his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said kindly. “You were just doing your job. And, hey, at least no one got hurt.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad about that,” Tamlin said, relaxing at last. “Jurian even found someone else who wants to look into this whole Koschei business. But don’t tell anyone,” he added, wincing.

Lucien merely chuckled, and his eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I won’t,” he promised, then stepped back and gently poked him. “But speaking of secrets, do you have anything else you want to get off your chest? Because now would be the time.”

Tamlin huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that’s everything.”

“Are you sure?” Lucien teased. “You didn’t forget that you’re secretly a werewolf or something, did you?”

Tamlin blushed. “I guess you’ll have to wait until the full moon to find out,” he said shyly.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose at his playfulness. “That’s this weekend!” he remarked. “How do you expect me to sleep until then?”

Tamlin ducked his head to try to hide his grin, but failed. “If you have silver, I think you’ll be safe.”

“Mm, I much prefer gold,” Lucien said with a wink. “But they say that music will tame the savage beast, so—” He reached behind Tamlin for the shopping bags. “—how about a song, maestro?”

Bemusedly, Tamlin accepted the bags and reached inside. “New strings,” he murmured in awe. “And rosin.” He unscrewed the cap and breathed in the sweetly familiar scent. “Oh, it smells like a Christmas tree,” he sighed.

“It does?” Lucien dipped his nose toward the small container, then made a face as he jerked away. “If you say so.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I mean, I wouldn’t wear it as cologne or anything…”

“Thank god,” Lucien muttered, rubbing his nose.

Tamlin grinned. “But I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucien said, smiling back. “Just let me know if you need anything else for your violin, okay? If I’m going to survive until this weekend, I need to keep you happy.”

“I am happy,” Tamlin said warmly. He set his gifts aside and dusted off his hands and looked at the tree. Their tree. “I can’t remember a better Christmas,” he murmured. “Not since my mom died.”

“Well, Christmas isn’t here yet, and we’ve still got Hanukkah,” Lucien said, trying to keep his voice light, but Tamlin could tell he was truly touched. “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

“Me, too.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, until Lucien loosened the top button of his coat. “So…”

“So,” Tamlin echoed.

As Lucien worked his way down the buttons, he asked, “What do you want to do now?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight. I knew I could always get a cab if things didn’t work out, but…”

“But they did,” Lucien pointed out.

“Yeah, they did,” Tamlin said with a relieved smile.

“So, it’s just going to be us tonight?” Lucien said, finally shrugging off his coat.

Tamlin found himself blushing again. “Yeah. I mean, unless you think another one of your brothers is going to drop by,” he said shyly.

“Oh, god, I hope not,” Lucien moaned, walking to the closet. “I love them, but I have plans tonight, thank you very much,” he declared, hanging up his coat.

Tamlin blinked. “Oh, you do?”

“Yep.” Lucien closed the closet door with a flourish, then leaned against it. “And they all start with You.”

“‘U’ as in underwear, or…?”

Lucien laughed as Tamlin realized his mistake, and stepped forward. “God, I love you.”

Tamlin’s breath caught and Lucien paused as they both realized what he had just admitted, but Lucien laughed it off.

“You know,” Lucien added quickly, scratching at his scar. “The Scythian way.”

Tamlin nodded. He was blushing so hard, he had broken into a sweat. Or maybe it was because he was standing too close to the fireplace. Not that he was willing to move away. Not now. “Come here,” he told Lucien softly, nodding him over.

Looking almost shy, his boyfriend crossed the room to join him.

“I want to tell you something,” Tamlin said, feeling shy himself.

“More secrets?” Lucien said teasingly, but he was blushing. He was actually blushing.

Tamlin nodded. “Just one more.”

“Okay,” Lucien said softly. He seemed to be quivering.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then he smiled. “I love you, too.”

Lucien’s lips parted in surprise.

When he didn’t speak, Tamlin added, “You know, the Prythian way,” only half-teasing.

Lucien smiled slowly, but it was a pleased smile. “Is that different from the Scythian way?” he teased back.

Tamlin tried, but he couldn’t contain his grin. “Very.”

“How so?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “Well, for one thing…” he said, then slipped his hand around Lucien’s neck and kissed him. Lucien’s hands slid around Tamlin’s waist and pulled him closer, leaving Tamlin’s hands free to slide through Lucien’s hair as he kissed him, and then kissed him again.

Lucien’s breath was hot against his mouth when they parted. “I think I like the Prythian way,” he murmured, breathing hard. “It leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin agreed, breathing hard himself. “I think so, too.”

Lucien’s hands clung to Tamlin’s sweater as he sighed, then he pressed his forehead against Tamlin’s. “I want to say it back, but I don’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Tamlin tried to say, but Lucien pulled away to shake his head.

“No. I mean it,” he said. His eyes shone bright in the firelight. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I think I always have. And even if you don’t want me to, I think I always will.”

Tamlin cradled Lucien’s face between his hands, and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “Now I’m the one who doesn’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he said with a shy laugh, trying to keep his emotions under control.

Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s wrists and simply smiled, but he looked like he was trying to hold back tears, too.

Tamlin swallowed. “So, how do you say ‘Me, too’ in Scythian?”

Lucien laughed tearily, then grabbed Tamlin’s face and kissed him. Between kisses, Lucien taught him the proper phrase, then kissed him again when he got it right.

“Not bad,” Lucien teased when they parted.

Tamlin blushed. “What can I say? I had a pretty good teacher.”

Lucien grinned, then wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

You’re amazing.

I love you, and I always will.

Me, too.

* * *

Lucien was too contented to move. Not that he wanted to.

His head was resting against Tamlin’s bare chest, and rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Tamlin’s fingers were lazily curling the ends of his hair, and he could hear the gentle thumping of his boyfriend’s heartbeat right below his ear.

There was another movie about dinosaurs eating people playing on TV, but the volume was on low. Since they’d already missed the first half, he wasn’t paying close attention.

Then, his stomach rumbled again, and Tamlin must have heard it this time, because he chuckled.

“Was that you, or the TV?” he murmured, still stroking Lucien’s hair.

Lucien reluctantly lifted his head to look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “That was me,” he said in a lazy drawl, then smirked. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Tamlin mused, then moved his fingers to brush a stray hair from Lucien’s forehead. His thumbnail gently traced the scar above Lucien’s eyebrow.

Lucien rested his chin against Tamlin’s chest. “What?”

Tamlin slowly shook his head, looking thoughtful. “Just… thinking about luck, I guess.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Lucien murmured, then pressed a firm kiss against Tamlin’s sternum. “Sit tight. I’ll be back with some sustenance shortly.”

Tamlin sighed as he pulled away, then tucked his arm beneath his head as he watched Lucien reach for his pajama bottoms. “Hey, aren’t those mine?”

Lucien chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, fastening the top button with a playful smirk. “I could wear mine, but… yours were closer.”

Tamlin smiled as Lucien slipped his arms into the unbuttoned pajama shirt. “Green looks good on you,” he observed. “Maybe I should get you a matching set for Christmas.”

Lucien grinned, then braced his hands on the mattress to lean in. “Didn’t I ever tell you?” he said softly. “I don’t wear pajamas.”

Tamlin’s bemused smile turned slack in shock. “What?”

Lucien chuckled, then kissed the corner of his stunned mouth. “You were so shy when you first spent the night, I didn’t want to scare you away,” he explained playfully, then straightened to button the center button. He flicked up his eyebrows. “But I always sleep naked.”

He left Tamlin lying speechless on the bed while he laughed his way into the living room.

By the time his bare feet hit the cold kitchen tile, though, his thoughts had already turned to food. He opened the refrigerator door and squinted against the cool white light, but it illuminated little in the way of leftovers. There was still some of Tamlin’s homemade chicken soup left, but that wasn’t the sort of food to take to bed. There were some ingredients, like eggs, blueberries, milk… Hmm. Alex hadn’t eaten all of the pancakes, so at least that was an option… albeit a sticky one. Not entirely out of the question, though…

“Find anything good?” Tamlin called out as he walked into the living room.

“Mm, maybe,” Lucien called back, frowning.

Distantly, something crinkled, then Tamlin’s voice came closer. “How about these?”

Lucien’s eyes took a moment to adjust as Tamlin stepped into the dim kitchen. Something crinkled again, something cellophane, and Lucien straightened with a smile.

“Oh, yeah! My mom’s gingerbread cookies,” he remembered happily, and began to close the refrigerator door. “Those are perfect—ly hot. What are you wearing?”

The cool light revealed Tamlin’s shy smirk as he gestured to himself. “I thought it was only fair.”

“Fair?” Lucien echoed, looking him over. He was wearing Lucien’s gray sweatpants, and a snug white tank top that clung to his defined pecs and showed off his muscular arms. “I don’t think it’s fair that you look better in my clothes than I do,” he complained.

Tamlin chuckled and lightly tossed the bag of cookies up in the air. “You want me to take them off?”

“Not yet,” Lucien said, drinking in the sight of him.

Tamlin stepped closer, still smiling. “You’re letting all the cold air out, you know,” he murmured.

“I know,” Lucien said in a low voice. “But I’ll pay the bill if it means keeping my wits about you. I’m starving.”

Tamlin chuckled. “Here,” he said, handing him the bag. “Have a cookie. Let me take a look.”

Lucien accepted it without a word, and mindlessly removed the colorful ribbon as Tamlin bent down to look inside the refrigerator.

“Hmm. You really don’t eat in much, do you?”

“I don’t cook much,” Lucien reminded him, taking a bite of spiced gingerbread as he tilted his head and admired the way the tank top clung to his boyfriend’s muscular form.

“All you really need is a good loaf of bread and some great condiments,” Tamlin said, straightening. “Butter. Jam. Cheese. Pickles…”

Lucien grimaced as he swallowed. “Not in the same sandwich, I hope.”

Tamlin chuckled again, and tucked his loose hair behind his ear. “No. But sometimes it’s nice to have something with your coffee in the morning.”

“Mmm. Pickles and coffee. My favorite.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes. “You’re such an ass,” he snorted, then closed the refrigerator door, plunging them into darkness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know I am,” Lucien said as Tamlin reopened the refrigerator.

“I meant the lights.”

“Oh, so, I’m not an ass?”

“Oh, no. You still are,” Tamlin said, smirking.

“You’re so romantic.”

Tamlin snorted again. “If I were really romantic, I’d light some candles, but I guess the overhead light will have to do.” He moved away from the open refrigerator door. “There’s a switch around here somewhere…”

“Don’t. I’ll go blind,” Lucien begged, then pressed the cookie bag against Tamlin’s chest as he stumbled over to the stove. Click. Soft, warm light illuminated the marble countertops without flooding the entire room. “There,” he said, smiling in relief. “That will do until I can rustle up some proper candles,” he joked.

Tamlin closed the refrigerator door without commenting. His head was bent over the open bag to inhale the fragrant scent of fresh gingerbread cookies. “I can’t remember the last time I had some of these,” he murmured.

Lucien nibbled on his own cookie as he walked over to join him. “You can have the rest of them, if you want,” he offered. “I know my mom would be happy to make some more for you. It’s kind of her thing.”

Tamlin smiled wistfully, then shook his head and held out the bag. “I’d rather share. I don’t want you to starve, after all.” His eyes twinkled.

Lucien smirked. “Now I remember why I came in here,” he teased, and took another cookie. “Sustenance.”

He was pleased to see a warm blush steal across Tamlin’s cheeks, even in the dim light.

As Tamlin took a cookie for himself, he murmured, “Is it always going to be like this?”

“What?”

Tamlin took a small bite before answering. “You know,” he said shyly. “The sex. The snacks. The jokes afterwards.”

“I hope so,” Lucien said honestly, and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Because there’s no one else I’d rather have snacks with in the middle of the night… Even if you do look better in my pajamas than I do.”

Tamlin chuckled. “You don’t wear pajamas, remember?” he teased.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right. I don’t.” He unbuttoned the single button, then shrugged off the satin shirt as Tamlin watched him with widening eyes. He shivered but tried to hide it as he set the shirt on the nearby counter, then placed his hands on his hips. “All right,” he declared, tossing his head to shake the loose hair from his eyes. “Your turn.”

Tamlin’s gaze had been slowly traveling downwards, then he snapped to attention. “Me?”

Lucien put on a brave smirk. “It’s only fair.”

Tamlin looked at him askance, but at least he smiled. “I didn’t ask you to take off your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt,” Lucien countered. “Besides,” he added, gesturing to the room. “Are you really going to leave me standing around half-naked in a cold, dark kitchen all by myself?”

Tamlin’s bemused smile grew wider. “You’re serious.”

“About sex? Absolutely.”

Tamlin pointed at the floor. “Right here?”

“Right now. If you want to,” Lucien added quickly.

Tamlin bit his lip as he considered this. “Okay.”

Lucien’s insides suddenly fluttered as he watched Tamlin set aside the bag to reach for the hem of his tank top. In one smooth, easy motion, he peeled it up and over his head. He shook his long blond hair free, then let out a quivering breath as he set the garment aside.

“It’s, uh, kind of cold in here,” he said softly. Shyly.

“Yeah,” Lucien breathed. Tamlin’s nipples were already hard and erect, as were his own. As were other things.

They were each clad in a single bottom layer, which Lucien was acutely aware of as Tamlin came closer. “It’s your turn,” he murmured.

“I guess it is,” Lucien whispered, sliding one arm around Tamlin’s waist as he backed them up against the counter. The cold marble bit into the bare flesh of his hip, and he flinched away. “Um…”

“Oh. Maybe if we, uh…”

“Yeah. There’s a towel in that drawer if you want to… um…”

“Did you want to turn around, or kneel down, or…?”

They both glanced at the pathetically small rug at their feet, then burst out laughing. As they clung to each other for support, Lucien was glad to feel how blissfully warm Tamlin’s chest was against his own.

He ran his hands down the muscles of Tamlin’s back and sighed. “Maybe sex on the kitchen floor in the middle of December wasn’t such a hot idea,” he mused, then kissed Tamlin’s shoulder.

“Maybe not,” Tamlin murmured. “But I hear sex by the fireplace can be pretty hot.” His lips grazed Lucien’s ear.

“Mmm… I hear bed sex is pretty hot, too,” Lucien murmured, trailing slow, lazy kisses up Tamlin’s neck.

Tamlin turned his head to look into his eyes, then his gaze drifted down to Lucien’s mouth. “As long as it’s with you, anywhere will do,” he said, then kissed him. Flecks of spice still clung to his lips.

When they parted, Lucien let out a rough exhale. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

They never did make it to the fireplace. Or the bed, for that matter. With their pants pooled around their ankles on the cold tile floor, it made it hard to walk very far. Not that they needed to.

“I take it back,” Lucien panted, bracing his sweat-slicked arms against the cool marble countertop. “That was pretty fucking hot.”

“Yeah.” Tamlin’s breathing in his ear was as ragged as his own.

Lucien let out a weak chuckle when he didn’t continue. “You’re so poetic.”

“I’ll write you a limerick next time,” Tamlin said, then pressed his lips against Lucien’s shoulder. “That was intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Lucien agreed breathlessly, then turned to face him. “That was… wow.”

Tamlin braced his hands on either side of him. “Now who’s poetic?” he teased, still breathing hard.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” Lucien quipped, then slipped his hands around his neck and kissed him.

“Mm. That’s not a limerick, but it will do,” Tamlin finished, smiling.

Lucien gave him a bemused smile. “Hey, that was pretty good.”

“Give me a minute to think of something that rhymes with ‘good’, and I’ll keep going,” Tamlin said, sighing as he stepped out of his fallen clothes, then pushed himself away to go to the sink. After washing his hands, he brought a towel to Lucien. “Here. For your manhood,” he said, half-joking, which made Lucien laugh.

“God, you’re good to me,” Lucien said as Tamlin began cleaning him up.

“Not as good as you are to me,” Tamlin said softly. His words were as gentle as his touch.

Lucien’s chest suddenly tightened with emotion. “Here. Hand me another towel,” he rasped. “Let me do you.”

“Oh, um… That was the last one,” Tamlin said regretfully. “Maybe this would be easier in the shower,” he suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lucien said, freeing his ankles from the confines of Tamlin’s pants, but he stayed where he was. “I’ve been meaning to buy more towels anyway, but I never had a good reason.”

Tamlin said nothing, but continued gently wiping the single warm towel against Lucien’s bare skin.

Lucien took a deep, though trembling breath. “I need to buy a new rug, too. Maybe one of those thick foam ones that are good for your feet. Would you like that?”

Tamlin nodded slowly. “That would be nice.”

“And matching aprons,” Lucien continued. “And good bread, and… and condiments…”

Tamlin chuckled and moved away to rinse the cloth in the sink. “You make it sound almost kinky.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucien said ruefully, watching Tamlin wring out the cloth. “I just want the kitchen to feel like it’s yours as much as it does mine.”

Tamlin paused and smiled bemusedly. “What do you mean?”

Lucien’s tongue felt strangely thick, but he somehow managed to say, “I want you to move in with me.”

Tamlin stared at him. “What?”

“You and me… I want us to live together.”

Tamlin was so stunned, he dropped the cloth in the sink. “You mean, like… all the time?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said, suddenly feeling shy, and not just because he was naked. “I mean, if you want to.”

Tamlin looked truly taken aback as his hand drifted to his neck, as if he, too, were suddenly and acutely aware of being naked in the middle of the kitchen. At least they were on the same footing, in that regard.

“Well? Do you want to?” Lucien asked hesitantly.

Tamlin laughed in amazement and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just can’t believe that… Wow. You really want me to move in? Just like that?”

Lucien shrugged. “I mean, it will probably take a few days to get you settled, but… yeah.”

“Even though we just had sex?”

“Especially because we just had sex,” Lucien said, half-teasing. “Why? Do you think I’ll change my mind?”

Tamlin bit his lip. It was clear that was exactly what he thought. “It’s just… what if we fight again?”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch,” Lucien quipped.

Tamlin laughed, then shyly dropped his gaze to massage his palms. When he didn’t speak, Lucien moved closer.

“Hey,” he said gently. “If it’s too soon, you can tell me. I know most people wait six months or more until they move in together… But you and me, we’re not like most people. We first moved in together before we knew each other’s first names, remember?”

That made Tamlin chuckle, which made Lucien smile.

“If you want to wait, I’m okay with that,” he said softly. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Tamlin met his gaze. “Okay.”

Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Yes. Or whatever it is you say to a proposal like that. To move in together, I mean,” he said, blushing.

Lucien smiled a slow, hopeful smile. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

Lucien grinned, then seized Tamlin’s face and kissed him. “I love you,” he said between kisses.

“I love you,” Tamlin echoed in Scythian.

As their mouths rejoined, their arms slid around each other and closed the gap between them. Tamlin’s skin was cool to the touch from standing in the open kitchen for so long, something Lucien intended to remedy, and soon.

“Something tells me we’re not going to get any sleep tonight,” Lucien said as they slowly made their way into the living room.

“Something tells me you’re right,” Tamlin murmured. He paused when their feet touched the carpet. “I think I feel something coming on. I better call off work tomorrow.”

“Good idea. Then we can finally play Doctor.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I made chicken soup.”

Lucien grinned. “It’s a very good thing. You know, I’m starting to feel a little feverish myself.”

“Oh, no. What’s the remedy for that?”

Lucien pulled him close. “A hot shower and lots of bed rest.”

“Mm… I don’t know how much rest we’ll get, but that sounds pretty good to me.”

Lucien smiled as he leaned in. “Me, too.”

When they parted, Tamlin whispered, “Hey, Doc?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’ll be feeling better by this weekend? I’ve actually got plans, so…”

Lucien blinked. “Oh… You do?”

There was a smile in Tamlin’s voice when he replied, “Yeah. I’m moving in with my boyfriend.”

Lucien kissed him again. He couldn’t help it. “I’ll make sure you’re all better,” he murmured. “But I’ll get you some silver, too, just to be safe.”

“Silver? Why?”

“Just in case you turn into a werewolf.��

Tamlin pulled away and sighed and shook his head. “Something tells me you’d be into that.”

“Something tells me you’re absolutely right,” Lucien declared, then led his boyfriend into the bedroom.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙

[hplonesomeart]

Debated if I wanted to post this yesterday night (for some extra Halloween points) or hold off until the opportunity to color it arrived, but I’ve kinda picked up other art related things and don’t want to ruin the lineart on this sooooo….it’s probably going to remain a sketch forever lol. Just seems fitting to me this way! It was actually meant to be a redraw/reimagining of an older Halloween art piece featuring same original character (being Chloe The Lazypaw—an A Hat In Time themed character of mine). But I changed around the pose and the scenery for funsies!! >:3

[freshthoughts2020]

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

I am not immune to holiday alt Prof. Sycamore pokemas 😔🫵💖💖💖

/don't hmu on how my pulls are going I'm going through it rn SDKFSDKFSDNFS

[yaoiconnoisseur]

I’m feeling deeply unhappy with everything and I’m unsure if it’s due to stress or if it’s the depression

[todayisafridaynight]

ITS NOT BLUE. im mixing red and pink dye.!!!! im so excited :) you'd never guess what my favourite colour is.... and maybe you could draw arakawa and kirby together like u did with joongi and kirby :3? i don't know! i don't think that suggestion actually helps. or more streamer ichi. i don't know!

Red was my second guess :) sounds like a fun combo regardless !

A cute idea to be sure, but the thought of opening a canvas is just kinda tirin rn 😷 i should have something ready to go next saturday at least :) hopefully :)

[deadlydelicious]

....ok yeah i’m not a fan of taking a break from the really intense fucked up serial killing monster political thriller in the Burge for...Imogen and Agreus have relationship troubles in fantasy communist land

it is completely destroying the pacing, and tbh their characters feel a bit like season 1 relics. they should have just escaped happy and have been done with it

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

I'm still crying 😠

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[confinesofmy]

i ate two hot dogs yesterday and i think that's why i'm dying rn. i love how everytime i spend a whole day with my cousins i'm either not eating while everyone else is, choking down something that tastes really weird to me bc of the parosmia, or straight up eating allergens.

[retiredteabag]

winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

���Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[ithacanradio]

Nun te preoccupa' guaglio, c sta o mar for

don't worry boy, there's the sea just outside

by Stefano Lentini, from the hit tv show the Sea Beyond.

[salingers]

october's end.

dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask]. [enjoy that! i did]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics.

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads. 

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

 Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.” 

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.” 

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s. 

 You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting,  “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?” 

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders. 

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He’s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside. 

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.” 

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head��s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

[fastandcarlos]

A Decade Of Love » Max Verstappen

summary: as you and max celebrate ten years together, take a look at a snapshot of your social media for each one of those years

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2015

liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 24,706 others

maxverstappen1: excited to make my debut on the grid down in melbourne this weekend 🏎️

4,381 comments

username1: so excited for this opportunity for you max!!

carlossainz55: LETS GO TEAM 🎉🎉

username2: can’t wait to see you in that car racing round 🤩

username3: good luck max, you’re gonna smash it 🫶🏻

ynusername: there aren’t many excuses that could be used for missing a fourth date, but this might just be one of them 😂

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I promise I’ll make it up to you 🥺

username4: practice was looking fly, such a natural 🥰

sebastianvettel: start of a very bright future my friend ⭐️

username5: already my favourite driver on the grid 🏎️

danielricciardo: looking forward to seeing you get started in f1!!

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo thanks for all your advice!

username6: cannot wait to see you absolutely smash it 💪🏻

aussiegrit: looking forward to cheering you on in the paddock max!

username7: officially now a formula one fan!!!

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2016

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 50,118 others

maxverstappen1: P1 BABY 🎉 thanks to the whole team for an incredible weekend, the first top spot podium of many 🏁

14,607 comments

redbullracing: congratulations max, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️💙

username8: couldn’t be prouder of you max, you’re amazing 💕

danielricciardo: stop showing the rest of us up like this 😂😂

username9: you’ve only been here a year and already winning races 😂

lewishamilton: first win is always the hardest, only up from here 📈

username10: the perfect race, the perfect future world champ 💪🏻

ynusername: I don’t think my heart can take watching you race for the next few years ☺️

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I can’t make any promises for less dramatic victories 😂

username11: you were incredible, first of many I’m sure!!

estebanocon: awesome to see your first win, good job!

username12: enjoy all the celebrations tonight, it’s so well earned 🩷

carlossainz55: congratulations, the most incredible drive 🏎️🏁

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2017

liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and 48,707 others

ynusername: it’s taken two years but finally we get a break!! adventuring with you is my new favourite thing to do 🫶🏻🌅

6,491 comments

username13: so glad you two could finally get away for a while 🫶🏻

username14: these photos are STUNNING ✨

carlossainz55: idk where this place is but I want all the details about if from you!!

username15: if you’re looking for a third wheel to your holidays, I’m available!!

maxverstappen1: the best time with you, can’t wait for our next adventure 🛫🏖️

username16: you just know max did absolutely none of the planning for this trip 😂

danielricciardo: and the invite for best friend daniel was where exactly??

ynusername: @/danielricciardo funnily enough I don’t actually remember inviting you 🤷🏻‍♀️

username17: thank you for blessing my timeline with these photos!

username18: so happy that you two got some time together 💕

ybffusername: cannot believe you went on holiday without me…traitor 💔

ynusername: @/ybffusername promise next holiday I’m all yours 🥰

username19: thank you for making us all so incredibly jealous with these photos 😭

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2018

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 79,301 others

ynusername: if anyone is looking for a pt during the off season…here’s my portfolio 💪🏻☺️

6,382 comments

sebastianvettel: if you need another athlete to branch out you know where I am ☺️

username20: I love you for putting max through his paces still 😂😂

danielricciardo: I’ll hire you…only to spend time with you though 🥺

ynusername: @/danielricciardo don’t tell max but I’m all yours whenever!

username21: if it means spending time with you, I’m down 🙌🏻

maxverstappen1: thank you for showing people that I’m still a dedicated athlete even during the off season 💪🏻😘

username22: my heart just stopped seeing these photos of max…

charles_leclerc: is it true once you’ve gone for a run you then go for coffee and cake? 🤔

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc can you not share all my secrets thank you 😂

username23: can I train the athlete instead of have the pt???

schecoperez: already the best pt that I know 😂🫶🏻

username24: I hope you’re charging max for all these extra sessions 😂

carlossainz55: stop hanging out with that loser and come and see me instead 😀

username25: these photos will get me through the off season 😅

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2019

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,493,079 others

maxverstappen1: cannot wait to spend forever with you, mrs verstappen has a pretty nice sound to it 💍🌊

129,573 comments

username26: omg congratulations guys ✨

charles_leclerc: how did you manage to not tell anyone you were planning to propose 😂

danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc hate to burst your bubble but I knew!

danielricciardo: yes I’ll be your best man 🤵🏻

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo I don’t actually remember asking you 🤷🏻

username27: this is the best news ever 🎉

ynusername: have I mentioned how excited I am to marry you?? 🥺🥰

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you might’ve mentioned it once or twice!

landonorris: @/ynusername you’ve told me about twenty times 😂

username28: I can’t believe my favourite couple are getting married!!

username29: wedding spam incoming and I’m absolutely buzzing for it 🥺

carlossainz55: can’t wait for the best wedding ever next year 🥂

username30: I’ve been wishing for years for this moment to happen and now here it is 😭

heidiberger_: just throwing my name into the hat for bridesmaid 😉😉

username31: I’ve never hurried to like a post so much in my life 💙❤️

georgerussell63: couldn’t be happier for such an incredible couple!

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2020

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 194,281 others

ynusername: BEST DAY EVER 💍💞

34,695 comments

username32: look at how beautiful they are 😭

carmenmmundt: thank you for inviting us to the most beautiful day ever 💕

username33: 📣 MAX IN A SUIT 📣

username34: I’ve been counting down the days to today and these photos do not disappoint!!

landonorris: I’m not nice to you often…but today you looked beautiful yn 🥰

ynusername: @/landonorris that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me 😂

username35: imma keep refreshing my feed now so I don’t miss any wedding photos

danielricciardo: still slightly bitter I didn’t get the call up for best man 😂😂

ynusername: @/danielricciardo I offered you flower girl, not my problem you said no 🤷🏻‍♀️

username36: have you ever seen two people more in love in your life???

username37: I don’t wanna be that person…but now imagine these two as parents 🥺🤯

charles_leclerc: easily in my top ten weddings I’ve ever been to 😂

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc what an honour 👑

username38: if anyone’s wondering, this is the sort of relationship I’m dreaming of

maxverstappen1: I wish I could relieve this day forever, you looked beautiful 💕💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2021

liked by redbullracing, alex_albon and 2,492,183 others

maxverstappen1: WORLD CHAMPION 🌎🏆

so proud to win what’s been an incredibly tight season. thank you to my team, my family, friends, and most importantly my wife for always supporting me and pushing me to be at my best. this is for you guys 🩷❤️

348,503 comments

ynusername: words fail me…I’m so proud of you my love!! all the hard work has finally paid off 💙❤️

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername thank you for always being my number one fan 💞

username39: we all knew this day would come one day 🏎️🏆

username40: world champion max verstappen sounds absolutely glorious 🥺

danielricciardo: I told you one day that title would be yours…couldn’t be happier for you my friend 🤝

username41: that overtake at the end, stop playing with my heart verstappen!!

landonorris: can I have your autograph please mr world champion 😂🖊️

username42: so proud to have been with you since day one, we always knew you’d get here one day

aussiegrit: congrats max, and well done for bringing that trophy back home 💙❤️

redbullracing: we could not be prouder to have you as part of our team, thank you for all your efforts this year 🏆

username43: the first of many world titles I’m absolutely sure of it!!!!!! ☺️☺️

georgerussell63: enjoy the celebrations, looking forward to another year of battles next year

schecoperez: what a great team we make 😂🤝

username44: I’m still not over the moment he ran over to yn at the end of the race 😭

alex_albon: turns out you’re quite a good driver…who knew 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2022

liked by maxverstappen1, heidiberger_ and 359,219 others

ynusername: we’ve been keeping a little secret…🕊️🤍

27,281 comments

maxverstappen1: the best secret in the world, couldn’t wish for anyone better to be mother of my child 🫶🏻

username45: this is the most amazing news, congratulations you two!!

username46: I always said they’d be amazing parents and now it’s happening 😭

redbullracing: red bull baby grow order is pending to the factory as we speak

landonorris: if you need a candidate for godfather you know where I am 🤙🏻

schecoperez: if anyone is going to be godfather then I think you’ll find it’s me!

danielricciardo: I’ve known max longer so if anyone should be godfather it’s me 🤷🏻

heidiberger_: if daniel is godfather than I’m throwing my name in the hat for godmother 😂

ynusername: we haven’t made any decisions yet 😂

username47: I wish this child knew just how lucky they’re going to be with all these guys around them

sebastianvettel: I always knew you two would make the perfect parents one day from the moment I met you 🥺

username48: cannot wait to enter the dad max era 🥺

carmenmmundt: I’m moving into your house asap for all the baby cuddles!!

charles_leclerc: it’s about time we had another little one to annoy around the paddock 😂

username49: counting down nine months starting now…

fernandoalo_oficial: at least now we don’t have to listen to you bang on about how desperate you are to be parents 😂

username50: is it acceptable to be this excited for two people that aren’t me to be having a baby??

carlossainz55: who’d have thought those two kids from all those years ago would be settling down like this…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2023

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,706,173 others

maxverstappen1: turns out being a dad is actually the coolest job after all 🫶🏻👼

182,472 comments

schecoperez: I told you that months ago when you didn’t believe me 😂

username51: these photos are the softest things I’ve ever seen!!

landonorris: it’s a good job he’s got yn’s genes 😂😂

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris remind me again why I’m friends with you??

username52: hands down the luckiest child in the world 🥰

username53: I can’t deal with how adorable these photos are 😭

username54: I still remember the fresh faced rookie and now look at him omg

danielricciardo: who’d have thought you’d be able to make such a cute kid 🤯

username55: officially can confirm that dad max era is the best kinda era

redbullracing: we couldn’t be happier to welcome verstappen junior to the red bull family ❤️💙

username56: this smile is definitely not leaving my face for a long while now…

charles_leclerc: that’s the same way you used to look at me when I started in f1 😂

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc I definitely don’t look at you that adoringly anymore 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2024

liked by schecoperez, carmenmmundt and 783,102 others

ynusername: always your biggest fan ten years down the line, even if I’ve got a bit more competition for the job these days!! 🫶🏻🏎️

53,820 comments

maxverstappen1: i really am the luckiest guy in the world to have you three in my life! 💞

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 absolutely no way, i'm the lucky one

username57: i can't believe how far you guys have come!! 😭

danielricciardo: when i spoke to ysn he actually said that i was his favourite driver last week

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo did your parents never tell you it's rude to tell lies? 🙄

username58: have you ever met two more adorable kids in your life???

carmenmmundt: when do i next get to see these beautiful little humans??

lilymhe: @/carmenmmundt we are long overdue a catch up!!

ynusername: @/lilymhe @/carmenmmundt i promise we're coming to a race soon and i'll let you obsess over the kids all weekend long!

username59: max really is winning at life these days

landonorris: some notes my way like that might just help me to beat max next year btw 😂

username60: my heart can't cope with how adorable that note is omg

oscarpiastri: posting these is one way to win the award for softest driver in the paddock...please take that title from me max! 🏆

charles_leclerc: btw i plan on stealing your children and keeping them forever, they're just too cute!!

username61: how am i jealous of those kids that they get to call max dad and i don't

carlossainz55: remember i've been a fan of max for exactly four weeks longer than you...and i'll never let you forget it!! 😝

schecoperez: hurry up and bring them to the paddock...I miss them!

ynusername: @/schecoperez haven't you got enough of your own kids to keep you entertained??

username62: this family really is the definition of perfect...

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗