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barbieaemond · 11 months ago

Text

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos."

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror.

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

#likiri #liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #hotd fic

7K notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 11 months ago

Text

→ GENRE: smut, college au, crack, → PAIRING: Vernon x Afab!Fem!Reader (Feat. Soonyoung x Afab!Fem!Reader & Chan x Afab!Fem!Reader) → SYNOPSIS: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

→ WARNINGS: angst in this chapter, shower sex, unprotected sex (you know... that's just who she is, like fr, all of the sex in this is unprotected), cumming in pants (m), virgin!vernon, cum eating, angry sex, usage of the words "baby", "princess", dirty talk, Mommy!Kink (Vernon)

→WORD COUNT: 13k

previous ; masterlist ; next

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Or happy holidays for those of you who don't celebrate! For this year I thought I'd give you a treat in the form of a new chapter of everyone's favorite shit show, lmao. We are actually nearing the end - only one more chapter left of the regular scheduled content aka after next chapter every single member of svt got his own time to shine (some even... more than once). I honestly don't know how this happened, this was supposed to be a funny little smut fest and now it's literally almost 100k words of filth and drama. Thank you for reading this and sticking by it for the past 3 years! I also want to thank @bitchlessdino for betaing this chapter <3 And now enjoy the ride!

Also: I opened a ko-fi! If any of you want to support me through that, I would be extremely thankful! If not that is also completely fine of course! Remember that reblogs and asks is what keeps us as a writing community going, so please, if you like my work consider reblogging with feedback <3. Happy holidays!

taglist: @ariachavez168, @sandcasltes, @amiga-qmilagraso, @learnthisfeeling, @cersti-mo0, @nixtape-foryou, @minahoeshi, @listxn, @starlight-night0, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @kwonranghae, @haogyuslut, @a-dramatic-girl, @lovercuff, @grapefruithan, @whyokoa, @lovercheol, @cosmicupoftea, @knucklesdeepmingi, @wonusworldd, @baldi-2, @seventeencaratworld, @kingalls00, @1-800-jeonwonwoo, @hoeforhao, @p-dwiddle-blog, @tsukimiyuukun, @urfavtallgirl222, @jordand2012, @lcvejordyn, @jeanjacketjesus, @gaebestie, @hara-98-fan, @human-wthout-dreams, @eburneon, @xiusmarshmallow, @spbrax, @speaknowlwt, @lvlyjisung @yogurttea, @novalpha, @woo8hao, @hgma @akemiixx01, @volitina @haoxiaoba @justhere4kpop @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken, @miriamxsworld, @lexix001, @avyskai @punkhazardlaw, @lostmembrane, @magicshop1913 @tigerhoshii You can join the taglist here. If you're user is crossed out, I was not able to tag you!

The whole thing was like a blur. One second you were in the car with Seungcheol, the next you were outside, hearing your best friend yell at you. Her whole face was red, her eyes wide and her mouth moving as the worst insults left her lips. The worst thing was, you couldn’t even be mad at her. You couldn’t even be offended because she was right.

Her brother tried to calm her down, but the look she gave him made even Seungcheol back down. In all your years of friendship with Jiwoo, you had never seen her this mad. She suddenly looked way taller than she actually was, taller than Seungcheol, taller than your apartment complex.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She now asked for the nth time and you once again didn’t know how to respond.

“Jiwoo, I-,”

“You really couldn’t see the very clear invisible boundary that you’re not supposed to fuck my brother?”

“How can it be clear when it’s invisible?” You responded without giving it much thought. Jiwoo’s head turned even redder and Seungcheol sighed, closing his eyes as he let his head fall to look at his shoes.

“Oh my god, you know what I mean! Y/N, you can’t seriously think it’s okay to sleep with my brother behind my back!”

“I never- fuck, Jiwoo, I’m sorry, okay? I really- I didn’t plan for this to happen. After the first time I really wanted to end it, but-,”

“The first time?!” Jiwoo gasped and you noticed your mistake too late. Seungcheol rubbed a hand over his face, stepping closer again, wanting to get in between you two.

“Jiwoo-yah, please, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.”

“A big deal you say? You mean as big of a deal as you made it when you found out I slept with Taehyung one time?”

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. You looked between him and his sister, chewing on your bottom lip. There really wasn’t anything for you to say to make this any less bad. You had betrayed her trust, had lied about who you had slept with when you had actually slept with Seungcheol. You had been avoiding her, having Soonyoung be something like a freaking owl between you. Sighing, you pulled a hand through your hair.

“You’re right, I did cross a boundary. I- I should have told you and I shouldn’t have avoided you. I am sorry, Jiwoo, I truly am.”

She turned back to you, her eyes still full of fire, no sign of forgiveness. Seungcheol looked over at you too, his gaze unsure.

“Can you promise that it won’t happen again?”

The silence that followed the question, even if it only lasted a few seconds, spoke more than any of your words could have.

Jiwoo snorted, shaking her head.

“You know what, go right ahead. I should have known at one point you would do just about anything to finish this stupid challenge. You never respected any fucking boundaries, you slept with Soonyoung when I told you I wanted to, you slept with Wonwoo even when you already knew he had feelings for you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, Y/N, you just want to win, prove yourself to whoever the fuck. Most certainly not to me because if that was the case you wouldn’t have fucked my god damn brother!”

Without waiting for an answer, Jiwoo turned around and stormed off, most probably to her car. You couldn’t move even a single muscle. It was as if she had pushed you right off the edge of all the anxiety you had been feeling these past weeks. As much as you felt like crying, you couldn’t.

“She-”, Seungcheol’s voice seemed distant, even though he was right next to you. Perhaps you were now stuck in your own little bubble, far, far away from everyone, only close to yourself and the knowledge you had hurt the one person who meant most to you.

“She didn’t mean it, Y/N, she is just angry right now.” His hands were on your shoulders and as soft as his touch was, as much did it burn. You shook your head.

“No, she is right. I don’t respect boundaries, I- I forget about them, I just do whatever I feel like doing. I- god, I slept with Seokmin today, right outside your office, all for you to hear, I- I made you angry, I manipulate people, I-,”

“No, don’t do this,” Seungcheol interrupted you, “you don’t get to make yourself feel worse. I told you to sleep with Seokmin. Hell, I told you to sleep with three people to get this challenge over with.”

He wanted to make you feel better, you knew that. He wanted for you to not spiral and fall into a whole of self pity and self hatred but it was too late. You were already there.

“I need to go, I need to- I need to be alone, okay?” You ignored the hurt in his eyes, the obvious need to hold you close, to comfort you. Right now, you couldn’t. Acting like you hadn’t just lost your best friend of years and years, acting like you hadn’t been a horrible person, that all of the things she said hadn’t been right.

Without saying another word, you turned away from Cheol and walked to your complex, typing in the code and finally letting the tears fall freely.

A week went by. A week filled with nothing but you and your self pity as well as self hatred that made you turn off your phone and cry into your pillow for as long as you could before all of your tears dried out. You had done this to yourself - all of it. If you had done what you had known was right, none of this would be happening right now. Jiwoo would still speak to you and perhaps you could have seen Mingyu again, could have spent hours just forgetting about that stupid challenge and feel like you had any other purpose than this. It was silly really, how much this had changed your life. If for better or worse… debatable. Right now it was definitely worse.

On Saturday Soonyoung decided it was done though. Your pity-party had to come to an end. Jiwoo had told him all about your fight and when she had read on his face that he had known about you and Seungcheol, she had called him an asshole and left. So, now he was here, 8 pm sharp at your door, banging on your door and almost gasping in shock when he saw the state you were in. Your hair was greasy and your eyes swollen, the clothes you were wearing had probably been on your frame for more than just a few days and judging by the way you were holding a bucket of ice cream pressed against your chest, you probably hadn’t had any real food in god knows how long.

“Y/N…,” Soonyoung sighed and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t my not answering any calls enough hints that I don’t want to talk or see anyone?”

“How do you know I called you when your phone is off, hm?” Without waiting for you to answer and completely ignoring your complaints, he squeezed into your apartment and closed the door behind him, the grin on his face almost scaring you.

“We’re going to a party, babes,” he then said and you laughed, getting your spoon out of the pocket of your sweats, ready to dip it back into the cookie dough ice cream. Soonyoung gasped for real now, grabbing the spoon out of your hands and shaking his head.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not, Y/N. Go take a shower. Maybe even two, for Christ’s sake. And then, I don’t know, look in the mirror and try a smile.”

His words made heat rush to your cheeks and you found yourself scratching the back of your head as you slowly made your way to the bathroom not even sure how he managed to change your mind so quickly. But perhaps a shower wasn’t such a bad idea. Showers always helped to make you feel better after a hard time and if this wasn’t a hard time you didn’t know what was.

So, standing in the bathroom, a soft towel pressed against your naked body, you chewed on your bottom lip and finally stepped into the shower, towel set aside on the toilet seat. The second warm water started running down your body, the tension of the past days seemed to finally leave your body. You didn’t feel as sore anymore, as sad, as useless. Less like the worst human on this planet, who didn’t care about anyone but herself. Your eyes flew open, seeing only the already wet tiles staring back at you. The sound of the water hitting the floor mixed with the blood rushing in your head gave you a sense of steadiness as well as made you feel like you were about to pass out. Tears were about to well up again, tears you were sure had already grown tired of leaving your body.

“No crying in the shower, you hear me?” Soonyoung’s voice echoed through the door and you felt the sob in your throat turn to a choked laugh, your head turning to the door. An idea popped into your head. Clearing your throat, you slowly moved the glass door to the side.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…want to join me?”

The silence only lasted for a few seconds before you heard something like a thump noise and the door opening around ten seconds later. There he stood, Soonyoung, in his naked glory a big grin on his face as he stepped under the shower, your back hitting the wall you had stared at just a few seconds before.

“To what do I owe the honor?” He asked, his hands creeping around your waist. You shrugged.

“I thought you wanted to help me get my mind of things?”

“And that's how to do it?” He asked, smirking.

“We can shower together, make out a little…,” your hands moved up his torso, stopping at the sides of his neck, tongue licking over your lips, “maybe more… we’ll see.”

No further words were exchanged when he dipped down to kiss you, one hand on your cheek, the other on your hip, his already half hard cock pressing against your stomach as you let your arms wrap fully around him. Your eyes closed as you let him lead the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, every touch of his setting you on fire, giving you new energy. You let every bad thought leave your body, instead let him enter it - metaphorically as well as physically. His fingers made you arch your back and his lips sucked softly on your nipples, and when he finally sunk into you, his cock stretching you out as good as it had back then, it seemed as if you had never felt anything bad ever in your life.

“God, not gonna lie, missed your tight little cunt, baby,” he breathed against your ear, your legs wrapped around him, teeth sunken into your bottom lip as you let him fuck you into your wall, droplets of water running down both of your bodies, his cock hitting the perfect spot over and over until he made you cum, your moans echoeing through the room like a song he could never get enough of. He pulled out of you, jerking himself off as he kissed you hard, his seed soon getting washed away with the rest of the metaphorical dirt you had felt on your body for days.

After, Soonyoung helped you pick out an outfit for the party, comfortably seated on your bed, his legs crossed and his face red from the shower. He was seriously adorable.

“I like the black dress, it’s super sexy,” he said as you were holding up said black and a rosy pink dress. You pursed your lips and nodded, hanging the pink dress back into the closet and walking over to the mirror, holding the black dress against your frame. It was tight, but didn’t show any cleavage with its almost turtleneck-like cut. Was this what you were going for? Sexy? You clicked your tongue and turned back around, placing the dress on the bed before slipping into some underwear that wasn’t necessarily extremely sexy but also sexy enough for anyone to see (if you somehow managed to score in your current mindset).

“Where are we going by the way?” You asked Soonyoung now and the man shrugged, grabbing his phone.

“Not too sure, actually. Like I know where it is, but that’s about all the information I got from my source.”

“Your “source”? What are you? An investigative journalist?” You chuckled and Soonyoung grinned at you, eyes on you instead of his phone for a short while.

“Maybe.”

Laughing, you finally slip on the dress and walk over to the mirror again, eyeing yourself cautiously. Yes, this was good. This made you look hot and also sophisticated, made you feel confident and less like a failure. You smiled. Soonyoung had a good eye for dresses, apparently.

When you finished applying your make-up and Soonyoung had also gotten ready, you found yourself in the backseat of a cab, not paying much attention to where you were going as you were busy finally turning your phone back on, Soonyoungs portable charger plugged into it. Anxiety rushed through you, when the lock screen lit up and was flooded with countless notifications once you had typed in your pin-code. Missed calls from Mingyu, Seungcheol and Soonyoung. Messages from all of them, as well, plus a group chat for a project you had completely forgotten about. Your friend next to you eyed you worriedly.

“Perhaps you should have done that tomorrow.” He scolded you, snatching the phone from your hands to lock it and shove it in the pocket of his oversized denim jacket. You pouted, crossing your arms before looking out the window. Seoul passed by your eyes, lights everywhere and you noticed how much you had actually missed leaving the house. The last time you had been this upset, it had also resolved around Jiwoo. But back then, it had ended well, the two of you had found your way back, mayhaps even stronger than before. But this? You weren’t so sure you could come back. It shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it was, you thought. So what, you slept with her brother? He was his own person! He could make his own decisions! Fine, you lied to her about it. Lied for weeks and weeks. You felt small again, suddenly, wondering if you even deserved Jiwoo to ever forgive you for betraying her like this. Her words still stung and you knew that while she was angry, being that mean hadn’t been fair.

“We’re here!” Soonyoung grinned at you, handing the cab-driver his card and thanking him, before opening the door and helping you out, your hand in his. When your feet touched the ground, the door closing behind you, you finally took in the surroundings. And felt yourself almost falling right into Soonyoung’s chest.

“Tell me, god fucking hell, Soonyoung, tell me that this is not the house the party is at.”

Soonyoung blinked, his arm wrapped around your waist to steady you after you had almost tripped.

“Uh… it’s not?” He tried, but judging by the way he said it, you knew it wasn’t true. You closed your eyes. Pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Soonyoung-ah,” you start, “was your source Joshua?”

Silence. Soonyoung stays fucking silent. You feel heat arise within you and it’s not the kind you had felt earlier when you had asked him to join you in the shower. It’s anger, fueled by Soonyoung’s carelessness and his obvious stupidity. Bringing you to a party at Joshua’s place? Joshua who was roommates with Mingyu? Mingyu, who you had been ignoring for the past week, who had called you and texted you, the only thing missing was him barging through your door!

“I’m sorry! See, I thought you would never go if you knew!”

“Well, you’re correct! Do you know how many of them will be there? Haven’t I been through enough already?!” You slapped his shoulder and Soonyoung winced, holding the spot with wide eyes.

“Oh, come on! I get it, alright? You fucked it up with Jiwoo. Jesus, so did I!”

Now it’s you who blinked at him, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, did you forget that she also has to fuck people? A significantly lower number than you, yes, but still! And, well- I was one of them.”

It didn’t surprise you, not really. But it still made something inside you sting.

��And why did you fuck it up with her?” You asked quietly. Soonyoung sighed.

“When I heard about your fight I took your side. I told her that there are worse things than you sleeping with her brother. That, even though I understand it sucks that you lied to her, it wasn’t like you killed someone, or did something illegal. You just slept with him!”

Yeah, and kind of gave him hope there would be more. After the challenge. You pressed your lips together.

“But, well, Jiwoo didn’t like it. And she kind of guessed that I knew about it.”

“You like her, don’t you?” You found yourself asking him the second he finished his sentence, catching him off guard. He cleared his throat, fixing the collar on his jacket.

“It’s not that I didn’t like her, Y/N. But she went completely nuts over this, so out of character. I was confused and hurt that she threw this at me, that she said I owed it to her. As if because we were seeing each other casually, mind you, she still had other people to fuck, I suddenly became only hers and not your friend.”

They were seeing each other. Your stomach dropped and you felt like you were about to actually pass out.

“You were seeing her? And you still- you still had sex with me today?!”

“Woah, okay, I see how this can be confusing, but, Y/N, it was never serious. It wasn’t exclusive. We slept together a couple of times and had a few dates, but that’s it! I’m pretty sure I saw you more than her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You watched his face, saw the way his eyes shift, how the wheels turn behind them and something told you, that you probably already knew the answer. You decided to stay silent.

“I just- I don’t know, I really don’t know.”

It was a lie, but neither of you exposed it as such.

You ended up inside anyway. Fleeing from whatever was going on with Soonyoung, you were in desperate need of a drink. The familiar space was packed with people - courtesy of the apartment being big enough to hold that many. In addition to Mingyu’s room and the bathroom, there was a relatively big kitchen, a living space and, of course, Joshua’s room. The doors to the bedrooms were closed and upon seeing Mingyu’s, you felt guilt and shame creep up your spine. He was here somewhere, maybe drinking, maybe kissing another girl. And if that last thing turned out to be true, you knew you couldn’t even be mad at him. You had basically abandoned him for a week. After he had proven to be incredibly sweet and understanding, you had decided to just ignore him, to leave him in the dark, to forget all about him.

While you did see a few familiar faces (Seungkwan was chatting with Minghao in the kitchen and Jun was downing a bottle of vodka with a guy you didn’t know), Mingyu was nowhere to be seen. Only when you reached the living room did you spot one one of the hosts. Joshua was wearing a tight dark blue turtle-neck and perfectly fitting black slacks, his hair was up and only a few strands fell into his remarkable face. He spotted you right as you walked through the door, a hint of surprise on his face. He excused himself to the girl he was talking to and walked over to you, eyebrow raised.

“Y/N,” he said, “you’re alive.”

You deserved that. Maybe not from him, but in general. You cleared your throat.

“Seems like it.”

“Where were you? I had to physically restrict Mingyu from running to your place countless times.”

Your heart dropped once more on this night. Heat erupted on your face and you let your head drop for just a second, before looking back up at the man who had been the one to start off this stupid challenge.

“I was at home. I… wasn’t feeling too well. Is Mingyu here?”

Joshua didn’t seem too pleased with your answer, but decided to not pester you any further. Instead, he shook his head as he crossed his arms.

“Not yet. He is getting more drinks. Speaking of, should we get you one?”

You followed Joshua back to the kitchen, Soonyoung somewhere lost in the crowd, apparently. After your little talk, he had excused himself to the bathroom first thing and if you were being honest, you weren’t too keen on seeing him right now anyway. You let Joshua mix you a drink, thanking him with a more or less honest smile when he handed it to you. He himself took a sip from the fresh bottle of beer he had taken for himself out of the fridge, eyeing you over it now.

“Mingyu told me about the challenge.”

You almost dropped your cup.

“He did what?”

“Ah, don’t be mad at him. He kind of tells me everything, you know,” Joshua’s smug smile made you want to punch him in the face. You decided against it mainly because causing a scene wasn’t on your to do list tonight. Neither was talking to Joshua, though. Still, here you were.

“So, does this mean I was number one?” Jesus Christ, you rolled your eyes.

“Yes. And that’s the only number one you’ll ever be in my book.”

“Ouch.” He was still grinning. Even more than before. How on earth could he have played the part as the cute and innocent barista so well, when in reality he was nothing but a cocky fuck boy? It was official: you needed to get away from him asap. But when you turned, you suddenly felt like your feet had been glued to the ground because why the fuck was Vernon walking into the kitchen right then and there?

He saw you the same time you did and the look on his face was a mixture of shock and confusion. It had been weeks since the… incident at Mr. Choi’s office and while he hadn’t seen you in the flesh since then, he sure as hell had thought of you. His cheeks began burning when he saw the suspicion in your eyes and when you came over to him and his two friends, he literally felt like all of his wet dreams and fantasies about you were suddenly out on display.

“Did Seungcheol send you?” Was the first thing you said to him and poor, poor Vernon could only shake his silly head and point at Hyunggu and Seungyoun over his shoulder with a shaking hand.

“N-No, I came with my friends.” You followed where he was pointing with your eyes and the two young men behind him waved at you rather confusedly. You clicked your tongue and nodded, turning back to look at Vernon.

Vernon, who was out of the usual suit you had seen him in before. He was wearing a dark t-shirt and dark jeans, a necklace adjourning his slim upper body. His hair was messy, but a good kind of messy, that kind of messy you wanted to claw your hands into. Taking a sip from your drink, you contemplated. Seeing Vernon here, out of all places, seemed almost too much of a nudge in his direction. When Seungcheol hadn’t been the one to send him here and it was pure coincidence, didn’t this mean something? As much as it had bothered you that Seungcheol had wanted to decide this challenge for you, it now seemed to come in handy.

Licking over your lips, you took another step towards Vernon, one hand reaching for the small cross necklace he was wearing and letting it slip through your fingers. Your eyes stayed on the silver for a second before looking up and seeing his gaze, his red cheeks and the mouth that hung slightly agape. You smiled.

“How do you know the hosts?” You asked. Vernon needed a few seconds to regain composure.

“I, uh, I don’t actually. Hyunggu is, uhm, he works at the same coffee shop as J-Joshua.” He explained and you nodded, still playing with the jewelry. The poor man in front of you was close to losing his mind once more.

“I see. Well, this seems fated, doesn’t it, Vernon?” Your voice was merely a whisper when you leaned forward, your lips meeting his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Vernon didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, he didn’t know what to say ever again. His ability to speak had been ripped from him - by you and the way you looked at him, the way your breath hit his neck and ear.

The thing was - you had kind of ruined everything for him. There was no porn he could watch that could even come close to what had happened at Mr. Choi’s office. At some point he had tried finding women who looked like you in the videos, tried to replace your image with theirs, but nothing would work. More often than not he would find himself with his hand full of lube, eyes squeezed shut, imagining you and the way your pussy had looked all wet and ready just that this time it was his cock that was about to fuck you stupid.

So, when he felt your hand wrap around his wrist he didn’t even think about stopping you. He let you lead him into one of the bedrooms, let you sit him down on the bed, your legs on either side of him as you began straddling him. His head was in a haze, no thought to be thunk, only your lips on his, your tongue inside his mouth and finally your hips grinding against his extremely hard cock.

Somehow his hands had landed on your back while yours laid on his shoulders, slowly moving up to cup his face as you kept on grinding down on him. Vernon’s head was spinning.

“You’re so hard already, can feel you against my pussy, Vernonie…,” you whined against his ear and his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing on this earth. No words were able to leave his mouth, though. He could only nod and move his arms around you, finding himself rutting his erection against your core, catching you off guard. The moan that escaped you got him close to cumming right then and there.

“F-fuck, bet you can fuck me so good, baby,” you said before moving down to kiss his neck, his hips still moving up, chasing his own high.

“Shit!” His eyes rolled back when you found an especially sensitive spot on his neck, your tongue dragging over it just as your hand opened his jeans and slipped into them and his briefs - causing Vernon’s eyes to fly open and look at you in shock.

“W-wait I-,” he began, but the second your hand touched his bare cock, he couldn’t stop it.

“O-oh, n-gh, f-fuck,” he whimpered as he came onto your hand and into his underwear - thick ropes of white and hot cum leaving you with your mouth dropped in surprise.

His head dropped onto your shoulder as he tried to steady his breathing. Shame crept over him and he swallowed hard before he dared to look at you again.

“I’m sorry, I, fuck, I, uh- I’m a virgin.”

And scene.

“You’re a what?” You stumbled out, the shock ever so present on your face. Vernon felt his face heat up.

“A... a virgin.”

Slowly, you pulled your hand out of his pants, looking at the stickiness he had left on it for a second before licking it off, your eyes not leaving his face. Vernon felt his cock twitch and a whimper escaping him. You were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“Cheol doesn’t know that, does he?” You asked once your hand was clean and Vernon was already a little hard again. Vernon shook his head and you sighed.

“Well, I certainly won’t take your virginity for this stupid challenge, so…,” you stood up from his lap and looked at the mess he (or you?) had made, clicking your tongue before looking around the room and walking to one of the drawers on the side. You haven’t been in Joshua’s room before, but you definitely had not wanted to take Vernon to Mingyu’s room to fuck him. Or, well, not fuck him. You opened the first drawer and found yourself successful, grabbing one of Joshua's neatly folded pairs of underwear and throwing it at Vernon who caught it, with a somewhat horrified look on his face.

“Change into that. Don’t want you walking around with pants full of cum, baby.” You winked at him, and Vernon turned even more red. He mumbled a quick thank you and you chuckled, closing the drawer again, before walking to the door to go back to the party.

Just that, once the door was open, you were met by yet another familiar face. Chan was leaning against the wall, talking to some girl, a drink in his hand. When the door opened, it was more like a reflex to look at who came out - never had he expected to see you or the dude stumbling over his own feet behind you. His brows shot up and your jaw tightened.

“Now, who do we have here,” he says, the girl next to him forgotten, “you don’t pass up any dick, do you?”

Your veins began burning. Anger, raw and so real like back when Chan and you had seen each other last. Your hands were balled into fists in no time and you somehow succeeded in moving, ready to leave the party for all you cared, but Chan was quicker than you. He grabbed your wrist and held you back, pushing you into the kitchen, where music was now blasting as well, music that rang in your ears as you were pressed against the wall right next to the door.

“What the fuck do you want?” You spat out, trying to free yourself, but Chan just grinned down at you, his head slightly tilted.

“Just trying to make sense of you, princess,” was his awful reply. You scoffed, shaking your head and looking to the side, seeing that Vernon had escaped the bedroom now, closing the door and hurrying into the living room.

“You should leave me alone,” you breathed out finally and Chan leaned forward, his lips right by your ear.

“I can’t really hear you, you know?”

You closed your eyes. Was he kidding? He had dragged you in here. He had chosen this god forsaken kitchen as the place he wanted to talk to you in. When you opened your eyes again, you saw in his eyes what you hadn’t before. Want, need. He was desperate for you. He craved you - had probably been lurking around your apartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. But you hadn’t come out, you had stayed inside and now that he finally saw you…

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” you say now, his eyes still boring into yours. Something flickers in them now, hurt maybe, or something totally different. You just know that his jaw is suddenly tightened and one hand is on your waist, grabbing you roughly.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who?”

“I do. Did you fuck that guy?”

“Fuck you, Chan.”

There was too much tension between you. More than back then in the elevator. His breath hit your face, his brows furrowed.

“Did you fuck that guy?”

“What is it to you if I did?” You spat back at him. One of his hands was suddenly right there on your neck and your eyes widened at the sudden wave of want shaking your body.

“It’s an easy question, doll. Did you fuck him?”

His grab on your neck was almost too much to handle right now. Your pussy was crying into your panties and your head felt so far away, you feared it wasn’t even on your neck anymore.

“No.”

You wished someone would walk in. One of the guys you had seen earlier. Soonyoung, for all you cared. Even Joshua would be fine - just anyone to get Chan away from you. All of the arousal from your make-out with Vernon was still fresh and with Chan’s hand on your body, you couldn’t guarantee anything.

He was so close and he smelled so good. His face was mere inches from yours and if you moved just a tiny bit…

Chan was quicker than you. The thoughts were running around in his head ever since he saw you come out of that room, ever since he saw that random dude behind you. Jealous. That’s what he was. Jealous of some guy you had been in a room with by yourself and jealous of everyone who would come after. It was stupid and twisted, considering his brother was literally in love with you. His grip around your waist got stronger and suddenly his nose was touching yours, both of your mouths opened in a breathy gasp and when he saw the way your eyes fluttered close, there was literally no way around kissing you anymore.

It didn’t start out sweet or slow, no, Chan was full on kissing you like he knew you wanted to be kissed. His tongue was right there, his other hand on your chin, moving your head up so he could dip his tongue easier into your awaiting mouth. You moaned into the kiss, heat between your legs now accompanied by throbs that made you press your thighs together. Chan pressed himself against you, felt every curve of your body and wished he could just take you right here and now. But there were people around, drunk people, people who might not mind you any business, but still people. And so, he grabbed your hand after parting from you and taking you to the bedroom you had just left, the door falling shut behind you, his lips on you again right then. Hands were back on your waist and he groaned when he felt your hands feeling him up, sliding underneath his shirt and down, pressing against his bulge.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” you breathed and Chan bit down on your lip, nodding because, fuck, he wanted that too. It’s stupid, really, there is a bed right behind you, but Chan was greedy, Chan maybe even wanted someone to notice, wanted to get caught red handed, his cock in your tight pussy. He wanted everyone to know he got you, not Wonwoo.

Your hands moved to open his belt and you shoved his jeans and briefs down at the same time, have them pool at his ankles, your hungry eyes looking between his face and hard cock that laid against his stomach. Skilfully, you grabbed around the base of his cock and started jerking him off, Chan moaning against your neck as he tugged your dress up and panties down.

“Your fucking dripping, baby,” he breahed into your ear and you nodded, looking up at him with a pout.

“Fuck my dripping pussy, Channie, need you so bad.”

He didn’t need to hear that again. He grabbed his cock after you dropped it, your head banging against the door behind you, and brought it to your pussy, sinking into you a second later, your one leg wrapped around his slim waist.

“God, fuck, that’s right, such a wet tight pussy just for me.”

He began to move right away, devouring your lips with his as his hips frantically fucked into you. Your hands held onto his shoulders, eyes closed shut and skin on fire from desire. He fucked into you quick and hard, hitting you right where you needed him to and, fuck, did it feel good. Felt so good that you already felt yourself nearing an orgasm.

Chan’s breath hit your face again when he parted from you and leaned back, his eyes studying you as he continued to fuck you. You still had your eyes closed, which meant Chan could look at you all he wanted. His cock was twitching wildly at how your face looked, how your mouth was dropped open at how fucked out you looked, at how much you were into this. He licked over his lips, hands grabbing your hips harshly, thrusts becoming sloppier the closer he felt to release.

“Craved your pussy so much, baby, look at how good you take my cock, shit.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, Chan staring at you making your stomach turn and your cunt clench around him, a moan escaping you when he picked up the pace once more, the door literally banging from the movement. There was no way people who passed wouldn’t notice.

“Ch-Chan!” You cried out, and he smirked, continuing what he was doing.

“What is it, doll? You scared people will know that you’re getting fucked like the filthy whore you are?” He slowed down his thrusts just for a moment, your whimpers music to his ears.

“Pl-please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for but Chan just chuckled, finally pulling out of you to lead you to the bed, where he told you to get on all fours. You did as told, your pussy aching for his cock to come back and fuck you. You wiggled your hips just when Chan slipped back into you, a harsh slap landing on your ass.

“So impatient, slut. Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum on this cock.”

He went back to fucking you hard and quick, your moans filling the room and making Chan move even quicker. He was so close to emptying his load in your warmth.

“Don’t stop, oh fuck!” Your walls clenched around him multiple times, letting Chan know that he had in fact made you cum on his cock. He kneaded your ass, slapping it as he fucked you through your orgasm, closing in on his own with every passing second.

“So good for me, came so prettily on my cock, my perfect little whore, isn’t that right?” One of his hands now moved, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you against his chest, his cock seemingly vibrating inside of you, overstimulation making you cry out.

“Want you to cum in me, Chan, want you to so bad!”

Somehow your words were like a spell, getting Chan to do exactly as you had told him to the next second. Hot spurts of cum filled your spent pussy that was now milking him for all he had.

“Fuck! Yes, take it all, every last drop, that’s right.”

Chan thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and uncontrollable, his cock finally slipping out of you, accompanied by his own release that now dripped onto Joshua’s bed sheets. He couldn’t stop staring at your pretty pussy filled with his cum. Gosh, he really wanted to take a picture of this.

You were the first one to come back to her senses. You turned around, seeing your panties and his pants and underwear laying on the floor by the door and you climbed off the bed to grab it all, put your own on and hand Chan his clothes.

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat as you pulled your dress back down. Chan was back in his underwear and suddenly unable to look at you. What a joke.

“This probably shouldn’t have happened,” you finished then, feeling your own conscience starting to grow extremely guilty. Not to mention that you felt just extremely… yeah, what even? At this point there was nothing to say about you. How long had you been at this party? Thirty minutes? And you had already made out with Vernon, had made poor Vernon cum in his pants and now you had fucked Chan? Chan, who you had sworn to never fuck again because it was obvious you shouldn’t. Maybe Soonyoung’s idea to get out of the house had been a bad one after all.

“Yeah. It shouldn’t have.” Chan didn’t look at you, he in fact couldn’t bear to do so. Guilt flooded him, making it almost impossible to even leave the room. Wonwoo was out there somewhere, drinking, dancing, not knowing you were here and most definitely not knowing his own little brother had betrayed him. Again. Chan sighed pulling his jeans back up and trying to fight the urge to just stay in here and wait this party out.

With nothing but static sounds in your ear did you move to open the door, hand already around the knob.

“If he wasn’t in the picture,” Chan’s voice suddenly cut through the silence and you stopped midway opening the door, “would you think about it?”

Your heart ached at his question and you closed your eyes. You really had a talent for making people fall for you only to disappoint them.

“I don’t think the answer I have is the one you want.”

Even though he would never admit it, Chan felt his heart break a little at that. He knew it was stupid. Liking you was the exact opposite of what he should’ve done. You were just a girl he slept with once. You were the girl his brother had been talking about all this time, the one he had been hopelessly in love with.

It wasn’t fair, really. That the cute neighbor turned out to be you. That the girl he wanted to see again so badly after that first fateful meeting in the hallway was the one his brother wanted. In all his years living on this earth, he had never hated Wonwoo. His older brother had always been his favorite person in the entire world. But now? In this exact moment he hated him.

“Is it because of my brother?” He finally asked and you turned around to look at him.

“No, it’s not. I promise you, he has nothing to do with this.”

Chan moved his head and looked at you, nodding slightly. He would probably feel guilty about feeling relieved in a few hours, but right now he enjoyed the knowledge you wouldn’t go for his brother.

With one last smile, you finally turned to open the door, Chan right behind you.

And that was when time seemed to stop for both of you.

Of course this would happen because how could it not? How could you ever walk out of this room without any problem, without anyone seeing you. It was like ice was somehow replacing the blood in your veins, making you shiver, making you freeze.

Wonwoo stood there, right in front of the bedroom, just like Chan had earlier. And as if that wasn’t bad enough - Mingyu stood right there next to him.

You heard Chan’s gasp right when Wonwoo and Mingyu looked at you. Saw your disheveled hair, Chan’s not fully closed belt. The guilt in his eyes, the shock in yours. It took Wonwoo everything in him not to drop his glass at the sight.

“Tell me this is not what it looks like.”

Where his voice came from, he couldn’t tell. He just heard it, felt it ringing in his ears after. When neither you nor Chan began speaking and only continued to stare at him, he felt his jaw tightening and his body move. Without knowing where he was headed, he ran out of the apartment, leaving you and Chan behind with nothing but the biting feeling of a guilty conscience. Your eyes briefly met Mingyu’s, before you followed Chan, who was now running after his brother.

Cold air was giving you an unwelcome hug when you reached downstairs, Wonwoo standing on the side of the road, seemingly trying to catch a cab.

“Hyung, wait!” Chan called out for him and Wonwoo let his arm drop down - there wasn’t a cab around anyways. God, why didn’t he take his own car? Why did he have to get here with Mingyu and why did he plan on crashing here? Why had he even decided to come here in the first place?

When Chan finally reached him, Wonwoo slowly turned around. As much as you wanted to deny it - seeing Wonwoo this way made your heart clench painfully. Coming to a halt behind Chan, you suddenly felt like maybe you shouldn’t have followed them.

“Hyung,” Chan started again, looking at his brother with pleading eyes, “I’m sorry, I- I know what this must look like to you.”

“It looks like you slept with the girl I’ve been telling you about for weeks, yeah.”

Chan swallowed.

“He didn’t know, Wonwoo. Neither did I, when we slept together - we didn’t know.”

“But you knew today, didn’t you?”

Chan and you shared a quick glance and Wonwoo scoffed, looking away for a second, before he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared back at you.

“Mingyu told me, actually. That you two- that this happened. And I was planning on letting it slide because as you said, you didn’t know. But tonight? You knew and you still-,” Wonwoo closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You know, I’m not even mad at you, Y/N. Because I don’t expect anything else from you. You take and take and take and you never ever think about the consequences of your actions. You simply don’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings and some fucked up part of me admires you for it. How easy it must be to go through life not caring about anyone but yourself.”

Any other day his words might have made you feel a different way. Maybe you would have felt offended, angry even. But right now? You knew he was right, felt it in your bones that his words couldn’t be any more true. Averting your gaze, you looked at your feet, not allowing yourself to cry.

“You, though,” he was talking to Chan now and even though something inside you itched to step in, you didn’t, “you knew who she is, what she means to me. And you still did this?”

“Hyung, I’m sorry, I truly am, I don’t know what to tell you.” Chan sounded just as broken as you felt and it took everything in you to not put a hand on his shoulder to offer some comfort.

“That makes two of us, Channie. I also don’t know what to tell you.”

Wonwoo finally turned around to walk off and when he walked around the next corner, Chan finally moved again, pulling both hands through his hair, before turning around and spotting none other than Mingyu stepping outside. Anger rushed through Chan, but you stopped him before he could do anything.

“Let me talk to him, Chan,” you said quietly and while Chan looked like he didn’t want to listen to you, he ended up nodding and storming off, back inside.

Once he was gone, you took a few steps closer to Mingyu who looked at you with a blank face. He didn’t feel bad about telling Wonwoo, you could tell. You could also tell that he was mad at you, if because of the ghosting or the fact he had caught you with Chan, you didn’t know. Sighing, you shrugged slightly and looked up at him.

“When did you tell him?”

“Around three days after you suddenly disappeared.”

“You’re angry at me.”

“You think?”

Mingyu had never looked at you like this before. Like he was actually mad, like there was something seriously wrong.

“I’m sorry for not texting back, for not calling you back, Mingyu, I truly am. Something happened and I just closed off. Not just you, I- I just turned my phone off and didn’t think.”

“I was worried about you.” He took a step closer. You felt his warmth and closed your eyes, even let him put his hand on your cheek. That was until you remembered Wonwoo’s face, the way he had looked at Chan. And that’s when you realized something.

“You told Wonwoo about Chan,” you started, your eyes back open and looking at him, “but you didn’t tell him about you.”

Mingyu’s jaw twitched, his hand slowly falling from your face again. He didn’t have to confirm it with words for you to know your assumption is correct.

“How can you do this to him?” Now, you felt the tears behind your eyes that you had held back the entire day. Mingyu licked over his drying lips and let out a bitter laugh.

“Why is it always him you’re worried about? Why does it matter that he liked you first, why do my feelings not matter to you, Y/N? This isn’t fair.”

“No one ever said this is fair, Mingyu. This whole situation is fucked up, this has nothing to do with fairness. If I was smart, I’d just stop right here. I’d leave you alone, I’d never speak to any of those guys upstairs again. But I can’t because I’m selfish, because I don’t want to leave you alone, I don’t want to never speak to them again. I’m selfish because somehow I still can’t let go of things I know shouldn’t be mine.”

“I am yours, Y/N, I have been yours since the day you stepped foot into the office, the first time you kissed me. How can I prove to you that I don’t care about any of this?”

Both of his hands were on your cheeks now and his thumbs wiped away the tears that began to fall.

“Mingyu, you know it’s wrong, you know it’s not fair. Not to you or Wonwoo or anyone else. I can’t just accept you as mine when it’s so clear Wonwoo will never forgive you, not after Chan.”

“I don’t care. I love you, I want to be with you.”

“You don’t mean that. You shouldn’t mean that.”

Even though it took everything in you, you let your hands wrap around his wrists, lifting his hands from your face.

“Y/N…,” he whispers, but you shake your head, another set of tears dripping down your cheeks.

“We can’t do this anymore. I appreciate you wanting to wait, but even if I were to finish this stupid challenge, I don’t think you and I should be together.”

Mingyu heard your words and he understood them. Every single one of them reached his brain and a part of him even agreed with them. But looking at you, seeing the face he had been seeing in his dreams for the past months, the one he had missed so much when you had left him the first time - that part fell extremely small. The bigger part wanted to reach for you, tell you how wrong you were. No one would be as good for you as him, no one understood you the way he did. Yes, Wonwoo was his friend, maybe even his best friend, but you… you were his. Everything about you was made for him and it didn’t make any sense for you to not see that. He knew you did, he knew you felt the same. But, apparently, your conscience won over your heart this time.

“Don’t do this,” he heard himself say and you pressed your lips together, shaking your head again.

“Mingyu, it’s for the best. I am not- I am not good. Something inside me is rotten, I feel like… I feel like I’ve lost who I am in the past few months. I did things because I was being selfish and I need to stop. I already lost my best friend, I can’t lose myself too.”

You let go of his wrists now, looking up at him with a sad smile. You hoped he knew that if you had met under different circumstances you would love to be with him.

When you left, Mingyu stayed back, staring at the spot you had just stood in. And, somehow, he didn’t believe that this was the end of you two just yet.

You sat down on the bench of one of the bus stations near Mingyu’s apartment complex, about to get your phone out to text Soonyoung - when you realized that he still had it. Groaning, you let your head fall back against the glass behind you. Wonderful. Just great, really. He would probably drop it off tomorrow once he realized you weren’t at the party anymore. Maybe it was better this way - not having your phone close to get any ideas about texting Mingyu. Or Seungcheol. Another groan left you. Seungcheol. The fact he hadn’t sent a whole SWAT team into your apartment was probably thanks to Jiwoo. Maybe he didn’t want to see you again after talking to his sister. And maybe that was right. If you couldn’t see Mingyu anymore, you probably shouldn’t see Cheol anymore too.

“Y/N?” A voice made you open your eyes, surprise visible in your face when you saw Vernon parked in front of the bus station, passenger seat window down as he looked at you with worry.

“Vernon? You’re already leaving?”

“Yeah, I, uh, thought that maybe this was enough socializing for the next couple of weeks.”

The way he awkwardly smiled made you laugh. Nodding, you let your eyes roam over his car. It’s nice - not as nice as the car he drives for Cheol, but definitely on the more expensive side. Vernon clears his throat.

“Do you need a ride?”

It probably took a lot of courage for him to ask you this. Smiling, you thanked him, getting up from the bench and walking over to his car, opening the door and plopping down onto the passenger seat.

“Guess you won’t need the address,” you joked and he blushed, still with a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah. I think I got that covered.”

You drove in comfortable silence. The city was still alive since it wasn’t that late and you watched strangers laugh on the street, drink in some of the booths standing around town. A part of you wished to be as carefree as them, but you figured that this would take a while for you to gain back. Not caring and going out, making friends without thinking about how you could possibly get them into your bed. It was crazy, really, how much this challenge had affected your life, how now, three months after the idea had left Jiwoo’s lips, she wasn’t even your friend anymore.

“Can I ask you something?” Vernon spoke into the silence and you turned to look at him, nodding.

“Sure.”

“Okay so, I know that Mr. Choi kind of told me to, uh, sleep with you and… I also know that you are now aware of me… never having been with someone like that,” he began and you frowned slightly, unsure what he was going to say next, “if I am honest with you, Y/N, ever since that time in Mr. Choi’s office, I… couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not… not in a romantic sense, more like, as in-,” he scratched his head, trying hard to find the right words for what he wanted to say, “as in I think I actually need you to take my virginity, or else I’ll probably never be able to get this out of my head.”

Oh. You raised your eyebrows, blinking at Vernon a few times, the words still registering in your brain. Then, when it finally clicked, you broke out into an honest laugh, catching Vernon off guard.

“I’m- I’m serious!” He whined and you nodded, waving with your hand as if to signal you weren’t really laughing at him.

“No- No, I know. And I am flattered, but-,” you let yourself look at him again and when you spotted the earnest look on his face, your laugh faltered, making space for a smile that somehow even spread to your heart.

“I know it’s a weird request. But I’m just a guy Y/N. And you, quite literally, have been taking over my mind. I just- I would be incredibly happy if you would… do that. And of course I understand if you’re not into it, but I thought I could at least ask and-,”

“Okay,” you interrupted him, Vernon now being the one to blink at you a few times when he stopped at a red light.

“Okay?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do it. We, you and I, can do it. Not tonight though, I’ve had, uh, quite the evening and would just like to fall into bed. By myself.”

Vernon felt like he had just seen the gates of heaven and he wasn’t even naked in bed with you yet. Quickly, he nodded, continuing the drive when the light turned green, a wide smile on his lips as he realized you had really just said yes to his insane request.

“Sure! I get that, I, uh, we can definitely do it another day, I’m fine with that. You can call me, I- you have my number, right?”

Soonyoung ended up bringing your phone over the next day, not even staying for a chat and not even able to look you in the eyes. Your jaw hurt from how hard you were biting down, knowing exactly why he was behaving this way. Thanking him and slapping the door closed, you sighed and fell back onto your couch, plugging your phone into the charger and waiting for it to turn on.

Going through your messages was a true pain. Mingyu wondering where you were (before the party, obviously), asking if he had done something wrong, telling you he was gonna come over. You closed your eyes, holding back the stupid tears that wanted to slip out again. You should really get a fucking grip. Mingyu had been part of the challenge, nothing more! He should have never become more than that, should have never become someone you actually cared about as much as you did now.

You deleted his chat, not even opening the messages. Then, you moved on to Seungcheol. Your next big problem. While he did text you several times, he did seem to understand you needed your time and space and he was willing to give it to you.

But I just need you to understand that I am serious about this, about you. I want to be with you.

Seungcheol’s words suddenly barged into your mind, reminding you of the fact that he did in fact care about you, that he wanted you, that he didn’t care about anything else. Sighing, you closed the messenger app and instead opened your contacts, choosing his and pressing the call button.

He picked up after the second ring.

“Y/N,” the way he said your name soothed you right then and there.

“Cheol…,” you breathed out, feeling another set of tears wanting to break through.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you could hear him moving, making you wonder about whether he was at home or in the office on this Sunday morning.

“Not really, if I’m gonna be honest,” you replied, turning over so you laid on your back now, “but I will get there. Eventually.”

You could imagine him nodding, could imagine the worried frown on his face.

“I am so sorry about my sister,” he then said and you shrugged, smiling sadly to yourself.

“It’s not your fault. She had every right to be mad at me.”

“No, she didn’t. And I told her that. I talked to her, tried to make her see that she is completely overreacting. Yes, I am her brother and, yes, we should have just told her, but she is making this a bigger deal than it ever had to be.”

“Maybe. But as you said, we should have told her. I should have told her. Instead I told her a lie about a businessman I met at the hotel, instead I kept on lying to her for weeks, I avoided her, scared to accidentally let it slip. Yeah, what she said to me was… harsh and it did hurt me. But I deserved it, Cheol.”

You heard him sigh on the other line.

“Baby, you didn’t deserve it. We all make mistakes, we are humans. She acted like you killed someone.”

The usage of the pet-name made your stomach flutter. Chuckling lightly, sadness still audible, you let your hand rest on your forehead.

“I can’t really change the situation now. She didn’t contact me at all while I had my phone off. We had fights before, but never like this.”

“Just give her time. She’ll come around.”

Around to what? You didn’t dare ask the question.

“Yeah, maybe,” you just said and swallowed hard, licking over your lips after.

“If you need anything, call me, okay? I’m here for you,” he paused, “and Jeonghan is back. So, if you want to finish what you started - you can.”

Finish what you started. At this point you weren’t even sure you wanted that.

“I’ll call you. Bye, Cheol.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

Vernon picked you up in the car he drove for Cheol a day later.

You kept telling yourself this wasn’t for your challenge, but for Vernon. He had asked this of you. He wanted you to do this for him. It didn’t matter that you could beat the challenge because the sole reason for it wasn’t your friend anymore. Still, even with all of this in the back of your mind, your pride remained right there, wanting you to do this for yourself, prove to yourself that you could finish this even when wounded and on the floor with nothing left.

So, when Vernon parked the car on a high spot with a beautiful view of the city and the two of you were making out on the spacious backseat - you allowed yourself to count this towards the challenge you so desperately wanted to leave behind you.

Vernon’s hands were careful, shy even, placed on your hips as his mouth discovered yours, his tongue slowly moving against your own. You wanted to let him find his pace but when he didn’t try to make a move fifteen minutes in, you decided to take the lead. Quickly, you moved onto his lap, straddling him like back at the party, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him deeper this time, tongue licking sensually against his and he whimpered underneath you - absolute music to your ears.

“Touch me, I know you want to,” you whispered into his ear then and he swallowed hard before letting his hands slip to your back and down, fingers almost clawing into your ass, your hips beginning to grind against him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his cock already rock hard in his pants. You chuckled, kissing his neck and letting your finger glide under his shirt, pulling it over his head skilfully, his hands landing right back on your ass once he was shirtless in front of you. You licked over your lips and moved to kiss down his neck, tongue flicking against his skin and finally his nipple, the moan coming out of Vernon’s mouth deliciously ringing in your ears. He dared to move your shirt up as well, helping you get rid of it and he immediately groped your breasts, his eyes glued to them still covered by pretty dark red lace. You smiled smugly, fingers caressing his abs and chest, thumb and index softly pinching his nipple and making him throw his head back.

“Feels good,” he mumbled and you giggled, doing it again. The way he pushed his hips up, searching for friction had your pussy dripping into your panties. You happily continued, lips back to kissing his neck and chin, moving up to his mouth where he gladly welcomed you with his tongue searching for yours. God, he was eager and you loved it.

“Keep telling me what feels good, Nonie, wanna make you feel so so good.” Your voice was dripping in honey and Vernon nodded rapidly, reaching for your face to kiss you again and you let your hands wander down to open his jeans, hoping the incident at the party wouldn’t repeat itself. Vernon was concentrating on your lips on his, on the way your skin was warm under his fingertips, on how good it felt to kiss you and to have you on top of him. When you touched him over his boxer-briefs, he did moan into the kiss, but he didn’t fear coming undone like last time - he had jerked off twice this morning to prevent that from happening.

“So hard for me already, bet you have such a pretty dick, baby.”

He twitched under your hand now, his long eyelashes fluttering as he watched you - how you sat up, biting down on your red bottom lip, your fingers pushing down his pants and underwear so his cock could spring free.

“I knew it, so pretty, Nonie.”

Your hand around his cock did not make him cum, but it did make a good load of pre-cum leak out of him, his face red as he watched your thumb carefully collecting all of it, smearing it over his shaft and using it as lube for your hand that now grabbed around him. Vernon couldn’t help the pathetic little cries when you began jerking him off.

“Y-yeah, j-just like that.” His eyes rolled back and you watched him in awe, taking in every single one of his pretty sounds and the way his hips bucked up into your fist.

“Be a good boy and stay still for me, yeah, baby?” You grinned to yourself, seeing how he struggled while nodding, his teeth sinking into his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. He was incredibly pretty at that moment.

Your hand moved quicker, getting him as hard as you could without making him cum.

“F-feels really good,” Vernon sighed, his hands grabbing onto the seat underneath him, nails dragging into the leather. You watched him carefully and finally dropped his cock from your hand to rid yourself of pants and underwear. Vernon’s eyes flew open and he held his breath watching as you shifted, pants and panties slipping down your legs.

“I would love to suck you off, baby, but I fear you’ll come right away and I really, really want your cum in my pussy.”

The whimper leaving Vernon now made you grab his cock and lead it to your dripping pussy.

“F-fuck, I- I- oh my god,” Vernon’s hands found place on your back, eyes wide as he stared down at your pussy sinking down on his length, his whole brain working on not cumming the second his tip breached you. His head was spinning, his breath hitched once he allowed himself to breathe again and when you were fully sunken down, he felt his dick twitch wildly inside of you.

“Holy fucking shit.” His nails dug into your skin and you let your pussy get used to his size, arms wrapping around his neck, lips back to kissing him softly.

“Feel good?” You asked and he nodded, not able to speak, too busy concentrating on not shooting his load right then and there.

What he did not expect was the feeling of you moving. How your walls felt around his virgin cock that was only used to his own hand. How tight you were, how warm, how perfect. There was no stopping the moans, the cries, the whimpers as you began riding his cock, your lips traveling from his neck to his lips, from his lips to his ears, sucking on his earlobe and making him push you harder against his chest.

“M-Mommy, f-feel so good.” The word slipped out and it rang in your ears, your pussy clenching around him, a smirk on your lips inevitable when you parted from him only to take a look at his face.

He was lost in pleasure, but the fact he had said that was somehow displayed on his face as well. Your hands moved to your own back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall off your frame. Vernon twitched inside you once more.

“Such a good boy for Mommy, aren’t you, baby?” You brought his hands from your back to your front, placing them right there on your tits.

“I know you want Mommy’s tits in your hands and in your mouth, isn’t that right?” Vernon saw stars when your hips moved again and your tits almost slipped through his hands. Quickly, he nodded, beginning to grope at them harder, his mouth open as he watched how they looked in his hands, how soft they were, how good they felt. And when you pushed his head down, his face right there between your perfect tits, he almost couldn’t believe he hadn’t cum yet.

With his tongue shooting out and lapping at you, you began riding his cock quicker, letting yourself lose, moans coming out of your throat that made the poor man feel like he was dying. He brought his lips to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he heard angel’s sing in his ears, tongue twirling around the hard bud.

“Just like that, baby. Your cock feels so good in Mommy, gonna make me cum.”

Vernon knew it wasn’t going to be long until he exploded, his spit running down your tits as he kissed and sucked on your skin, moving up to your neck and kissing your mouth again, hands still busy on your breasts.

“Are you gonna cum for Mommy, Nonie? Are you gonna fill Mommy’s pussy with your cum?”

“Y-yes, gonna fill M-mommy up, pump her full, o-oh,” Vernon had never ever expected to last as long as he did.

“That’s right, baby. Pump Mommy full, come on. Know you want to.”

The second the words had left your mouth, Vernon couldn’t help it anymore. He cried out, calling for you over and over as his cock twitched and twitched, hot cum filling your pussy, his hips fucking into you with absolute no control. You felt your own climax hit you just then with the way he kept on thrusting upwards, hitting you right there where you needed him.

“Fuck!” You cried out, pussy tightening around his cock and he whimpered, overstimulation hitting him as you kept fucking yourself on his cock, the sound of your cum stuffed pussy riding his cock so lewd it literally caused his cock to grow in size again, all of the blood in Vernon’s body down there, all of his senses heightened but his brain completely shut off.

“Sh-shit, n-ngh, Mommy, please!” His cry made you look at him, the fucked out face having you clench around him again. He wasn’t done with you yet. Instead of letting his cock die down, he kept on fucking into you, his head now thrown back as he cried with every thrust, his hips showing you no mercy as he chased his pleasure. There was nothing you could do but enjoy, your mouth hanging open as you let him have his way with you, your hands back on his shoulders.

“You fuck Mommy so good, baby, come on, I know you wanna give me more, want all of it, Nonie, all of your delicious cum in my pussy, gonna make me so fucking proud.”

His overstimulated but incredibly hard cock obeyed immediately. A second orgasm made Vernon’s body shake, more cum filling you as he cried, head falling forward onto your shoulder as exhaustion hit him next. He was still twitching wildly and you allowed yourself to fuck down on him until you yourself reached a second high, his whimpers telling you to keep going.

“W-wanna make Mommy cum,” he cried and you grabbed his face, seeing actual tear stains on it, kissed him softly.

“Made Mommy cum two times, baby, I am so proud of you, did so well for Mommy.”

A smile spread on Vernon’s lips, before his head dropped again, his chest heaving with great effort.

As a good virginity-taker should, you held Vernon against your chest for a while after he had slipped out of you, his cock extremely sensitive. You had cleaned him and yourself up and helped him back into his boxer-briefs, finally letting him rest against your frame, as he came down from his high.

“I’m sorry if this was a bit much,” he mumbled after a while and you chuckled, fingers caressing through his hair.

“It was all fine, don’t even worry about it, alright?” You kissed the top of his head and Vernon thanked you, squeezing your hand before lifting his head. You allowed him to kiss you when he wanted to and you agreed to grabbing some McDonald’s before parting ways.

Having made the decision to end this challenge once and for all, you had called Seungcheol the day after your “date” with Vernon to tell him you were willing to meet that business partner of his. Setting a time and place (two days from then at Seungcheol’s company), you were content with finally finishing what you had started. Sure, a part of you felt devastated about the fact Jiwoo wouldn’t be there to share this with you. Maybe even a really big part. You decided to forget about this for the time being - after all there was still a chance Seungcheol was right and she would forgive you.

When you arrived at the company that day, you mentally prepared yourself to, one, see Seungcheol and, two, see this stranger you’re supposed to let into your bed. You didn’t even know why you hadn’t asked Seungcheol for a picture or even any more information about Jeonghan, but then again you had been worried about a lot of other things. One that apparently had not been on your mind, was Seokmin.

Seokmin who was talking to one of the women at the front desk and who, once he spotted you, seemed to stop mid sentence. You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart beating faster, remembering the last time you had seen him. Seungcheol had gotten you out of that situation rather quickly and a part of you had been worried that Seokmin would have to deal with repercussions - but since he was still here, you figured there hadn’t been any.

“You’re here.” He said when you reached him, a small smile playing on his lips. You nodded and he excused himself to the woman, leading you through the gates with his ID card and to the familiar elevators.

“Meeting Mr. Yoon today, I heard.”

Yoon. Yoon Jeonghan? You frowned. What a strange coincidence.

“Yes. What’s he like?”

“Well, he’s… something, for sure. Good looking, intelligent. Very well traveled, too.”

The elevator pinged and the two of you walked inside, your hands tightly clasped around your purse.

“Right. And… is he nice?”

You looked over at Seokmin, who seemed like he really had to think about that question.

“Uhm, well, I guess, “nice” wouldn’t be the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Mr. Yoon, but he is… he can be nice. If it benefits him.” Seokmin slowly turned his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“And I would assume in this situation, it would definitely benefit him.”

Smooth. Another heatwave met your cheeks and you averted your gaze, clearing your throat just in time for the elevator to come to a stop and open its doors.

Seokmin let you out first, a quiet “thank you” leaving your lips as you stepped out, your head turning to face the way you knew Seungcheol’s office was - only to be met by something, or more someone you most certainly had not expected to see.

Jiwoo was standing there, right by the entrance to Seungcheol’s office space, talking to a man who’s face you couldn’t see.

“Ah, Mr. Yoon is already here.” Seokmin’s voice said next to you and you blinked, looking from him to Jiwoo and finally to who you presumed was Mr. Yoon. Yoon Jeonghan.

You stopped in your step, feet suddenly glued to the floor. Yoon Jeonghan had moved his head. His face was right there in your field of view. And Jiwoo’s hand was on his arm as she laughed about something he said.

“Y/N?” Seokmin was visibly confused, but you couldn’t even hear him. There was only the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, only the faint memory of a voice that belonged to the man standing right there.

I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Aren’t best friends supposed to share things?

You were taken back to the time Jiwoo and you had your first real big fight, to the way neither of you understood that it wasn’t any of you who was the problem but him. Him, who had lied to both of you, who had known you were best friends, who had taken advantage of both of your naivety.

And now he stood here? In this very office building, being Jiwoo’s brother’s business partner? Your world was spinning and you only found your senses again when Seokmin’s hand landed on your shoulder and his worry was even more visible on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked and you looked at him, really looked at him, shaking your head as an answer. You didn’t say anything, instead you continued walking, your steps echoing against the walls of the space and finally Jiwoo and Jeonghan noticed you.

While Jiwoo’s eyes widened in shock, Jeonghan remained oddly calm. Instead of surprise that it was you, there is a smug smile displayed on his lips as his eyes lingered on your body.

“As it turns out,” he began, “we do get a chance for that night we never had after all, Y/N.”

Your hands turned into fists - fists you were ready to throw at him. But before you could do that, you were interrupted by Jiwoo.

“Are you joking?” She gasped, looking between Jeonghan and you, “Is it not enough for you to drag my brother into this, now you’re going after my ex as well?!”

If the world wasn’t spinning anyways, you would have been sure it had started doing so right then. There it was again - the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Your ex?” You croaked out, shaking your head in absolute confusion.

“First of all, I didn’t know he was the Jeonghan Cheol was talking about. And second of all, as far as i am concerned he is not your actual ex, you fucked like what, once? And then you broke it off right?”

You knew the answer even before asking the question. The Jiwoo standing in front of you, with her face pale and her jaw tightened - she was someone different from the Jiwoo you knew, but perhaps the realest version of her you had ever gotten.

“Well- well, yes! But-,”

“You’re lying,” you now interrupted her.

“I am not!”

“Yes, she is,” Jeonghan now chimed in, a smile on his lips you could only describe as mischievous. As if he knew he was stirring the pot.

“Oppa!” Jiwoo hissed and you felt your stomach drop right down to your feet.

“She wanted to break it off, she really did. But I guess she just couldn’t resist me. You will find out soon enough what that means, sweetheart.” His phone started ringing just then, a wink in your direction serving as his goodbye right before he began walking towards the other side of the floor to his own office space.

You were shaking. Your whole body was in something like a trance. Jiwoo could only stare at the spot Jeonghan had just stood, blood rushing back into her face.

“You’re telling me that, even after you found out he had lied to both of us, you went and slept with him again? You even went as far as to date him behind my back?”

“So what! You fucked my brother behind my back that is far worse than this!” She screamed back at you, her eyes wild and her face flushed. You couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you are horrible, you are fucking horrible, Choi Jiwoo.”

And even with her screaming behind you, you didn’t look back when you stepped into the elevator with its open doors seeming to welcome you like a warm hug from a friend you so desperately needed.

header by @wongyuseokie

587 notes · View notes

01zfan · 11 months ago

Text

first | j. sc

sungchan x fem!reader | 3.8k words

thank you for all the support on the first installment of the bases series, i really wasn’t expecting all the praise i’ve received on this account. i want to continue writing good things if you guys are willing to stick around!

also MERRY CHRISTMAS.

first base - the act of kissing, mainly with tongue (otherwise known as french kissing).

contains: kissing, pda

bases: first | second | third | homerun

you watched from the sidelines with a camera at your side. the weight of the equipment resting on the strap behind your neck would bring you stiffness later. as you watched the stationary camera recording the game you rubbed the back of your neck to relieve some pain. you couldn’t care less when it came to sports, you found it to be too boring. the irony of hating sports while being the person in charge of taking pictures on said sports was so ironic it made you laugh. of course at the end of the day, this was your job and the pictures sold well, so how could you really complain. plus, there were moments of pure exhilaration when your finger rested on the capture button, lifting up and down like a trigger. seeing the athletes leap in the air in celebration, embracing each other when a play was executed perfectly was amazing, but being able to capture it was otherworldly. you loved being a photographer being able to capture moments in time where emotion flowed through the picture. you also couldn’t complain too much because having any proximity to your boyfriend made your day. sungchan being on the hockey team was a plus.

when you signed up to be on the photography committee you didn’t know about the requirement to take photos of a select sport. there was a sign up sheet you weren’t aware of, until the president of the committee emailed you a link of a google sheet all filled up.

you looked through the document mad at all the sports you had found a little interesting. if you didn’t have any events, how would you be paid? then you saw that almost all hockey events were open. desperate for the money you bit your tongue and put your name, email, and phone number. after that it was history. the head coach got you in touch with the sports team staff since you became the de facto hockey photographer for the season. you got acquainted with the team, learning their names and numbers to yell out for a photo opportunity. you even reluctantly taught yourself about the sport, just in case you had to know something.

during the first practice for the season is when you first met sungchan. you had shook his hand at the first meeting looking up at the tall man who had way to pretty of hands to be playing sports. you imagined his soft hands in those comically large hockey gloves, pushing people down on the hard ice. his hands on his knees while he watched the game attentively from the penalty box. you were thinking about his hands when he went to the sidelines to the team manager, taking out his mouthguard to politely ask for his water bottle. he was just as kind as he was pretty, smiling and saying thank you after he was done taking a drink. before skating back to practice he turned towards you.

“you take really nice pictures by the way.” he said it simply a shy smile etched across his face.

the comment caught you by surprise. you very rarely received compliments for your work outside of the occasional “this turned out well” when you showed your clients the finished photos of an event. anything to you at all. very rarely would the subjects of your photos ever be able to thank you since it was shown by the organization anyway. most of the time there was an unspoken custom of treating the photographer like they’re invisible, an omniscient viewer of the event.

the team manager looked at you expectantly and brought you out of your reverie.

“oh, thank you.” you smiled back at him. sungchan looked at you intently and went to rest his hands on the railing of the rink.

“seriously. i looked at your portfolio not just your instagram. thanks for agreeing to take pictures of the team this season. you’re gonna make us look really cool.” sungchan continued his piece, complimenting you a little too much.

more often than not you had no idea what to say to compliments. most of the times you would just mumble an awkward thank you or try and give a compliment back. each exchange always ended making you feel awkward by the end. but sungchan just kept going. your face was burning not used to the praise of someone with such a pretty face and such pretty hands and such a soft voice. it was too much, entirely too much. all you could do was nod at him in the most sincere way.

“i’ll do my best.” the smile came naturally, giving your words a slightly flirty tone. you couldn’t help it, looking at someone so cute kind of made you giggly and bubbly for no reason. when sungchan smiled in response you couldn’t help but look down.

“okay. i’ll talk to you later,” sungchan looked to you and the team manager. “bye yunjin.”

when he turned around to skate back to his team you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. yunjin tried to be silent, to not bring up the tension with a girl she barely knew. but she couldn’t help it. only a beat passed before yunjin was smiling knowingly at you.

“he was on your instagram?” yunjin elbowed you teasingly.

your cheeks were hurting from smiling to hard. you bashfully shook your head.

“he’s just being nice.“ you say shyly, but you hope he’s not just being nice. you hope he’s being flirty, and that he wants to hold your hand inside of his pretty ones.

“i’ve known sungchan for years and he’s probably the nicest on the team but that was not just nice. that was something just a little different.” yunjin held up her fingers inches from each other for emphasis.

“what do you mean?” you asked.

“hopefully you get better at picking up hints when he talks to you later.” yunjin laughed at your aloofness.

you actually didn’t pick up the hints. sungchan walked with you to your car after practice everyday without fail. you thought it was him being a gentleman. he would walk with you to class, holding your books. you thought it was because he was nice. when his teammates would coo at you and tease him when you walked by you thought it was them being silly. this went on for months. at first you had thought that he was flirting with you, but after a few weeks of him not even touching you, you began to condition yourself to only be his friend.

it wasn’t until you stayed late after practice one day learning how to skate on the ice with sungchan skating backwards facing you. he had that same smile on his face when you would get extra flustered around him. you skated on the ice with your arms stretched out, freaked out by the thought of falling and breaking something.

“sungchan!” you said his name after almost losing your balance “i’m gonna fall!”

“i won’t let you fall. don’t be scared.” sungchan said teasingly. his smile only got wider.

“if i fall it’s your fault.”

“bend your legs to stop.” sungchan demonstrated the proper form and you copied him. you bent your legs and you could feel your already slow speed get slower. when you finally came to a stop, sungchan skated forward closer to you. you tried not to freak out, being so close to him.

you guys were like that for a moment. him in front of you and you slightly wobbling on the ice. you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, because you knew he was already looking down at you. when he looked down at you a certain way, you forgot that you were only his friend. to keep your sanity you stared at his chest, usually covered in his hockey gear but now he wore his casual clothes. you couldn’t look at his puffer jacket too much, because you might start to think what’s underneath. you shift your focus to his hands that are picking at the seams of his jeans.

“are your hands cold?” you asked, still not making eye contact.

“what? oh no. i’m just kinda nervous.” sungchan said truthfully. his hands stopped picking at the seams and now rested at his side.

“am i that much of a hazard on the ice?” you laugh slightly trying not to take to much focus off of trying to balance.

you look up at him now. sungchan looks at you the same way he would be on the ice, thinking about his next move. his brown eyes are still so piercing but so soft. he looks directly into your eyes as he places both of his hands on your shoulders.

“i don’t know how to make it anymore obvious that i like you.” sungchan says it simply. you can feel your legs wobbling on the ice. you try extremely hard to not collapse right in front of him. you grab onto him to find some stability.

“i like you too.” it comes out meek. you curse yourself for being such a coward.

“no i like really like you. like more than a friend. i don’t know if you feel the same way. you’re just so cute and talented and smart and funny and nice and—“

sungchan is running off at the mouth. you have never seen him so shy, rubbing your arms up and down in tandem with his words.

“i really like you too. i was too nervous to i thought you were just being nice. i didn’t want to assume.” you smile at him, trying not to focus too much on his lips. you grab his hand, wondering why they were so soft and warm in yours. you partially hold his hand for stability from the ice.

“can i kiss you?” he asks.

you simply nod and lean forward. you see sungchan bend down to get closer to your lips. you close your eyes. months of pining and waiting were leading you to this, holding sungchan’s hand while he leans in to kiss you. you were too busy being on cloud nine that you forgot in reality you were on ice. when you got on your tippy toes to match his height, you lost your balance completely. you went face first into sungchan’s chest. he partially kept his promise to not let you fall, holding you up. you were so frantic and caught off guard by the change in your equilibrium that you put all your weight on him at the speed of light. this made sungchan lose his balance, and he fell on his ass, bringing you down with him.

you kept your head in his chest, mortified by how you managed to embarrass yourself so quickly. sungchan’s loud and boyish laughter pulled you from your embarrassment. you looked up and saw his big smile, head thrown back as he laughed. you joined him, giggling into his jacket. sungchan laughed the whole time he got up, and still laughed as he pulled you off the ground.

“i haven’t fallen like that since i was first on the ice.” sungchan dusted snow off of you before he dusted it off himself. you knew sungchan started ice hockey at a very young age, so you didn’t dare to ask him when he first stepped on the ice.

when the ice resurfacer came into the rink sungchan carefully led you off the ice, instructing you to put your hands on his hips as he skated towards the exit.

you two left the rink long after everyone else. sungchan walked you to your car, one of the three left in the parking lot. he opened the door for you as you climbed into the drivers seat. he closed the door for you too. after turning on your car sungchan folded his arms to lean on the open window of your car. he put his head in the palm of his hand, looking up to smile at you.

“thanks for trying to show me to skate.” you wanted to bring up the kiss you two almost had. the look in sungchan’s eyes was the same as when he went in the first time. you waited patiently.

”thanks for making me laugh.”

you two sat like that for three extremely fast heartbeats.

“are you going to wonbin’s christmas party?” sungchan asked quickly. you shook your head.

you were friends with the goalie of the ice hockey team. wonbin was funny, quiet, and good at his sport. when he said that the annual christmas party he throws for his team and friends was always fun, you never stopped to consider this an invitation. when yunjin said she was going with anton as “friends”, you didn’t dare to impose on the relationship that was blossoming.

“it’s tonight, isn’t it?” you looked at the clock on your phone. it wasn’t late by any means. 8:30 PM on a saturday was prime party time.

“i’m going there right now, actually.”

“i hope you have fun.”

“i would have more fun if you went with me.”

“i don’t know where wonbin lives.”

“i can text you his address. or you can follow my car. or i can drive you there and then drop you back off here. he lives only like five minutes from here.”

you thought about your options. sungchan gave you three, but there was definitely a fourth one floating around in your head. you could’ve said no and drove yourself home. you thought about all the regret you’d have if you didn’t go with him so you rolled up your window and took your keys out of the ignition. sungchan opened the car door for you with the biggest smile on his face. his car was only parked one space over, so he opened the passenger seat for you as well. sungchan smiled all the way to wonbin’s house. he was right about it being only five minutes away.

sungchan ran around his car before you could even take off your seatbelt. he opened your door for you, reaching in the back of his car for something. he was looking intensely, half his body in the passenger seat. it was unfair how even his backside was pretty, long and tranquil like a daydream.

when sungchan came out of his car, he had a christmas sweater and a santa hat. sungchan was already decked in his gear, a simple christmas sweater underneath his puffer jacket. you quickly realized the apparel was for you.

“wow, you really thought ahead.” you pulled the sweater over the shirt you had. you didn’t want the hat, so sungchan put it on his head instead.

“didn’t want you to feel out of place or anything.” sungchan said.

you two walked side by side to wonbin’s door. it was a large house, probably the largest one you’ll ever be in. you look at the hedges and the trees and the window. anything to get your mind off of how dangerously close your hand were to sungchan’s. just by walking side by side your knuckles were grazing his. he was so close, but so far away. half way up wonbin’s driveway, sungchan grabbed your hand.

you froze. you wanted to be cool, to take it all in stride and to try and seem as unaffected as possible. this was impossible. you were smiling uncontrollably when sungchan looked down at you.

“is this okay?” he asked. you nodded your head, squeezing his hand for emphasis. sungchan rang the doorbell, texted wonbin, and knocked on the door all with one hand.

wonbin came to the door pretty fast, swinging it open. it caught you a little off guard, but not as off guard as wonbin was when he looked down at you and sungchan holding hands. shotaro comes to the door and so does sohee. you feel a little shy seeing them all focus on your hands.

“i thought you guys would be doing your little dance forever.” sohee says.

you see anton’s phone before you see him, taking a picture of you two awkwardly standing at wonbin’s door holding hands.

it was less awkward when you got into wonbin’s house. his house was still packed. you recognized the people on the ice hockey team, but other than that and a few familiar faces you had no idea who any of these people were. you hold onto sungchan’s hand tightly as he navigates you through the crowds of people to the drink table.

“do you want anything?” sungchan asks, opening a bottle of sparkling grape juice. you grab a glass and point at the bottle. sungchan pours you both a glass. it doesn’t go unnoticed that he poured you more after hearing you exclaim it’s your favorite thing to drink.

you both mingle and walk around the party together. sungchan is nice enough to tell you how he knows the people he knows, telling you something about them that would help you keep a conversation going naturally if needed. you mostly trailed behind him and you guys talked in various places of wonbin’s house.

by the drink bar you talked about how wonbin stalked your social media when he first heard your name. he was intrigued by your pictures and wondered how his team managed to snag someone so talented to be their photographer for the semester. sungchan holds back using the word “fate” when you tell him how you ended up in your current situation. he even showed you his favorite photo of yours, the one where the man sat in front of two children hugging, sketching their picture on paper for them to have forever.

in wonbin’s kitchen you told sungchan how you thought he only saw you as a friend. you talk about moments where you thought he was going to make a move, and sungchan tells you he thought he was making a move. you shake your head as you two have two completely different perceptions of the same moment. sungchan saw moments of brushing your hand, holding your books, and walking to your car as trying to make you his girlfriend. you saw those moments as sweet things to remember, to keep a mental checklist of the type of person you want your boyfriend to be.

you two were on a lazy boy when you start talking about how you got into photography. you sit in the seat while sungchan is perched on the arm rest. you were in the middle of talking about your first camera when you are approached by yunjin, holding something behind her back.

“heyyyy you two.” yunjin is a little louder than usual. she is so obviously trying to hide something.

“hey yunjin,” you look at the big smile on her face. she has a little bit of her lipstick rubbed off and you make a mental note to corner anton later. “what’s behind your back?”

“oh this?” yunjin coyly says bringing out a full branch of mistletoe. she dangles the end of the mistletoe in between you and sungchan. sungchan laughs out loud, bringing a hand to cover his face. you smile, your face getting hot.

the attention from the rest of the party is on you two in a second. people come from the kitchen and the living room to huddle around you and sungchan. your cheeks heat up and sungchan holds your hand while laughing.

“you are insane.” you say to yunjin.

“i am being a good wingwoman. now please kiss your man, my arm is getting tired.” yunjin smiles and the faces of the ice hockey team light up realizing you and sungchan are finally about to put an end to the months of pining.

the party was two seconds away from chanting “kiss” when you feel sungchan staring at you. you turn to look at his smiling face. you smile too, and smile even harder when his hand slides against your cheek. he takes your other cheek is his hand and you put yours on his forearms. he bends down from his perch on the armrest to press his lips to yours. the kiss is feathery and light, his lips soft and smooth. just as quickly as he goes in he pulls away, but you felt like you were held in that moment for millennia. when sungchan pulls away, the entire room erupts in cheers and claps. you feel awkward only for a moment until sungchan stands and pulls you from the lazy boy. he bows like he just gave a show and you do too. this makes you feel less awkward for some reason, making light of a situation that could’ve been mortifying. you are almost amazed your mind didn’t immediately go to the worst case scenario, playing out the situation with a level head.

after the crowd disperses, sungchan grabs your hand and leads you upstairs, away from people.

sungchan opens the door to a dark room, and turns on the light. you know it’s wonbin’s room by the medals and framed jersey on the wall. when he closes the door, he looks at you worried.

“i should’ve told you they do that. i completely forgot i’m sorry.” sungchan looks at you, sad for putting you in that situation.

“sungchan it’s okay. it’s all lighthearted and fun,” you grab sungchan’s two hands and move them back and forth. “plus i liked it. i want to keep doing it.”

sungchan freezes the same way you did when he grabbed your hand. he looks at you with wide eyes and then smirks.

you and sungchan spend the next half hour in the others arms. the kisses start light, the sound of you two breaking apart bouncing off the walls. you both take turns caressing cheeks and feeling exposed skin. sungchan takes his time kissing you, only breaking apart to breathe or to tell you how pretty you are. he kisses you all over your face, a flurry of pecks that doesnt leave a single part of your face unkissed. when sungchan’s says he can’t believe he finally gets to kiss you, you smile and nod in agreement. you can’t stop yourself from telling him about his soft hands and soft demeanor, how gentle he is towards you. but you have to remind him that you are not glass and you will not break if he pulls you in a little harder and kisses you a little rougher. months of pining and thinking about kissing him could not be sated with gentle pecks and hand holding.

he pulls you in again desperately others, and you bunch up his christmas sweater to show him how pent up you are. you both take turns tilting your heads and deepening kisses. he places a kiss to your neck feeling butterflies spring from the imprint of his lips. sungchan grips your shoulders when you do the same to him. his saliva is sweet like sparkling grape soda and his tongue is as soft and gentle as his hands.

#seriez: bases #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

497 notes · View notes

sunkifye · 11 months ago

Text

don’t kiss me under the mistletoe

pairing— non idol nishimura riki x female reader

genre— enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis— it was the biggest (holiday) party of the year, so it was no surprise that you saw your enemy, who also happens to be your ex-crush, there. you just weren’t expecting to see him under the mistletoe next to you.

featuring— minji from newjeans

warnings— cursing, kissing, partying, riki is honestly really mean (im sorry!!)

word count— 3.1k

author’s note— merry christmas to those who celebrate! and happy holidays!!

“I seriously can’t believe they’re dating,” minji, your best friend, whispered into your ear.

“really? I saw it coming,” you shrugged before taking a sip of your drink.

“what?! how?? they’re literally best friends,” minji asked, pouring fruit punch into a plastic cup.

“that’s exactly why I saw it coming,” you explained.

“I guess so,” minji agreed. “they’re totally gonna be the it couple of the year aren’t they?”

“for sure”

“ugh I’m so jealous” minji complained.

“me too,” you sighed. “I wish I had a-”

someone had aggressively bumped into your shoulder, launching you forward towards minji.

“excuse you!” you yelled out at the person who bumped into you.

“who? me?” a familiar voice asked.

you looked up to see the culprit standing before you, nishimura riki.

“yes you nishimura! do you seriously have no manners?” you scolded the boy just to receive an eye roll from him.

“to be honest,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I don’t really care.”

oh how he made your blood boil.

he began to walk away from you, but after taking two steps he turned back around.

“oh and I forgot to mention,” he said, looking down at you. “you should probably stop daydreaming about things that’ll never happen…”

“because you’ll never get a boyfriend,” riki said with a smirk on his face before finally walking away from you.

oh he’s really done it now.

you started to march towards riki just for minji to put her hand on your shoulder and pull you back.

“just let him go,” minji said with a sigh.

“no way! I’m not letting him get away with saying that to me,” you replied, ripping minji’s hand off of your shoulder before beginning to walk after riki once more.

“nishimura!” you shout at the boy. “who do you think you are?!”

“better than you,” he says, turning his head around to look at you.

“well, news flash! you aren’t,” you yell at him. he scoffs as he turns his head back around and continues to walk away from you.

“don’t walk away from me!” you shouted, quickening your pace so you could catch up to him.

“why? do you want my attention or something?” he asked, smirking as he turned around to face you.

“ugh as if,” you grumbled, furrowing your eyebrows.

“as if!” riki said in a high-pitched voice, mocking you.

he lets out a laugh before walking away, but now he’s walking backwards just so he could look at you.

“you should really be nicer to people,” you reply, following him once more.

“I am nice!” he defends himself, placing his hand over his heart, pretending to be offended by your words.

“yeah right,” you say, rolling you eyes.

“just not to you,” he adds, continuing to walk backwards—which in all honesty, was a really bad idea.

since riki was facing you and not looking at where he was going, he bumped into a small table that was placed up against the wall in the hallway. the sudden movement of the table made a glass vase, which had a bouquet of white roses in it, fall over and onto the floor.

CRASH!

the vase had shattered on the floor, leaving the roses in a puddle of water on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass.

“look at what you did!” riki blamed you, pointing to the mess on the floor.

“what I did?! look at what you did!” you retorted, “this is your fault. if you were looking where you were going then maybe you wouldn’t have caused this mess!”

“well maybe if you weren’t annoying me then I wouldn’t have-”

“well maybe if you weren’t annoying me first-”

“well maybe if you hadn’t showed up to this party then none of this wouldn’t have happened!” riki spat out at you.

“what…” you mumbled in utter confusion.

“you shouldn’t even be here. these parties aren’t for people like you,” he stated, looking down at you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“you’re a loser y/n! you always have been and you always will be,” riki stated coldly.

your eyes widened at his words. you knew he was mean, but to say something like that? you stood there looking at him, not able to fathom the fact that you once had a crush on the boy standing before you.

you were in your second year of middle school when you developed feelings for your first crush, nishimura riki. he was friends with some boys in the higher grades and was quite popular among the students in your grade. you began to crush on him a week after school had started since he sat next to you in history class. your feelings for him grew as school went on because you saw him everyday and you even had to do a project with him once.

it was the middle of the school year—about february—when a girl you were kinda friends with told you to confess to riki, telling you that he would totally go out with you and that you would have a boyfriend for valentine’s day. you, being young and naive, trusted the girl’s words and decided to tell riki how you felt.

big mistake.

it was lunchtime and you entered the cafeteria, looking around for riki’s table. you found him in almost an instant, especially with how loud his friends were. you walked up to his table and with a sudden rush of confidence you tapped on his shoulder.

“huh?” he uttered, turning his head around to face you.

“hi,” you said quietly.

“hi?” he repeated, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“riki, I really really like you,” you blurted out, causing riki to raise his eyebrows. his friends were biting their lips and covering their mouths, trying to hold back their laughter, which you failed to notice.

“and- and I was wondering if you would go out with me,” you added, looking at him with hope in your eyes. he turned his head, looking around the cafeteria, then looking at his friends, before setting his gaze back on you.

“who are you again?” he asked, genuinely confused. his friends continued to try to hold back their laughter, which they were failing at miserably. you ignored them as you kept your eyes on riki.

“I’m y/n, we have history together,” you said, hoping he would remember you. “you sit next to me… a-and we did a project together a few weeks ago,” you added, just for him to furrow his eyebrows once more.

“I don’t recall,” riki said before turning his attention away from you as he began to eat his lunch. you stood next to the table, dumbfounded as you watched him eat his sandwich. suddenly, he stopped eating and turned to you again.

“why are you still here?” riki asked in a rude tone. you honestly couldn’t comprehend anything that was happening in that moment, but you decided to speak anyway.

“I-I thought-” you stuttered.

“listen, uh… what’s your name? y/n or something, right? whatever it doesn’t matter,” riki said, looking up at you. “I don’t like you, alright? and I’d never go out with you.”

hearing his words felt like a knife just stabbed you in the heart. he seriously couldn’t have rejected you a little nicer? out of embarrassment, you turned away and quickly ran out of the cafeteria. as you left, you heard riki’s obnoxious friends burst out in laughter.

“wow riki, look at you!” one of his friends cheered.

“who does she think she is?” another one of his friends asked in between laughs.

“I know right, what a weirdo,” riki laughed. your eyes welled up with tears as you ran to the closest bathroom.

ever since that day, riki started to tease you in any way possible: making fun of you in class, calling you names, bringing up how you had a crush on him, and when his friends were around, he would be extra irritable towards you.

that was the first and last time you were confessing to someone ever again.

you turned away from riki, careful not to step in any shards of glass, and walked away from him. you felt tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“no no no! don’t cry!” you told yourself as you fanned your face, hoping to stop the tears from falling. you had to get out of here. you had to find minji.

you pushed past people in the crowded house, trying to find your best friend. luckily for you, she was standing where you last left her, by the drink table.

“y/n!! there you are! I thought you left me for good,” minji half-joked as you ran up to her.

“I wanna go home,” you muttered, making minji’s cheerful expression change into one of worry.

“what happened?” she asked you, looking deep into your glassy eyes. you opened your mouth to say something but no words came out.

“Y/N! WAIT!” you heard a voice yell. you turn around to see riki pushing past people, making his way towards you.

you turn back around to face minji. you didn’t even need to tell her what happened because after seeing riki, she already knew.

minji was about to say something when you walked away from her, wanting to get as far away from riki as possible.

you made your way through the living room, trying to get to the front door. as you squeezed past people you heard riki’s faint voice calling after you. you walked faster, stumbling as you bumped into the upperclassmen that were crowded by the couch. you saw the front door down the hallway.

“it’s the final stretch,” you thought as you approached the doorway that connected the living room with the hallway. but before you could step out of the living room, you felt a hand grasp your wrist, tugging you backwards. you turn around, stopping in your tracks when you see that riki is the one holding onto your wrist.

“y/n-” riki said, breathing heavily.

“what?!” you snap, ripping your wrist out of his hand.

“uhm…” he uttered quietly. you rolled your eyes before turning around and trying to walk away.

he grabbed your wrist again.

“don’t go,” riki begged. you spun around to face him and he looked kinda…upset?

“why? you said that you didn’t want me here just a second ago,” you protested. he let go of your arm.

“I-” riki started before getting cut off by someone yelling.

“LOOK WHO’S UNDER THE MISTLETOE!” you heard an obnoxious voice shout.

you examined your surroundings, trying to figure out who just screamed, but instead you saw a bunch of eyes on you. by instinct, you tilted your head up, shifting your gaze to the ceiling above you. there hung the festive plant from the top of the doorway you were standing under. shit.

you averted your gaze away from the mistletoe and instead locked eyes with riki, who for some reason, looked very calm about this situation. you on the other hand—felt like you’ve completely lost your mind.

“KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” people started to chant.

you turned towards the hallway, hoping to run away from this horrid position, but there was a crowd of people blocking your way. instead, you turn the other way. maybe you can leave through the living room? wrong. there were even more teens standing in a crowd next to you, you couldn’t even see into the living room with how many people were gathered there. you had no chance of escaping this.

“so…” you heard riki mumble. you turn your head to look at him.

“so?” you repeat, furrowing your eyebrows. he doesn’t elaborate.

you sigh before deciding to speak up.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” you scream at the top of your lungs, causing the crowd to stop chanting.

“you all are out of your mind if you think I’m going to kiss him,” you say, emphasizing the word “him” in an offended voice.

“but you guys are under the mistletoe! you have to kiss!” someone yells, breaking the crowd’s silence.

“yeah!” another voice shouts, “you can’t break a tradition!”

the crowd cheers, beginning to chant, “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” once more.

you glance at riki, whose expression is unreadable. you stare into his eyes as you fiddle with your fingers, trying to think of something, anything, to get out of this situation.

suddenly, you felt pressure on the back of your head, pushing you forward.

the last thing you saw was a hand behind riki’s head, pushing him towards you, before your lips collided into his.

there was no way in hell you were kissing nishimura riki right now. what kinda sick dream nightmare is this?! you know your past self would be ecstatic to know you were kissing your first ever crush, your “dream man.” how disgusting.

you felt your face heat up with every second that your lips were against his. was it from anger? embarrassment? or from the feelings you still had for him since middle school? the feelings that you shoved deep down into your heart, ignoring them since he rejected you that one day.

the kiss felt like it lasted forever, when in reality, it was just a small peck that was over in seconds.

you stared at riki with wide eyes after pulling away from the forced kiss. after locking eyes with him for a split second, you immediately turn away and start to run towards the front door, squeezing past the people who were blocking your way.

you push open the door and breathlessly stumble outside into the cold. you deeply inhale through your nose, taking in the sense of freedom, before exhaling through your mouth as you slowly walk down the snow covered driveway.

“I have to call minji,” you thought to yourself. you reach down into your bag just to realize that you didn’t have your bag with you—or your coat for that matter. well now what? you needed minji to drive you home and you needed your stuff that you left inside. you shivered at the thought of entering the house again—or maybe it was because it was below freezing out and you had no jacket on? you couldn’t really tell.

just then, you heard the front door creak open. you turned around in hopes of seeing your best friend there, holding your things, and ready to drive you home. but no. it was him. seriously, out of all people it had to be him?!

you watched riki close the door behind him before jogging down the driveway.

“y/n can we talk?” he panted as he approached you.

“talk? there’s nothing to talk about,” you protested.

“well actually there is, we literally just ki-”

“can we just forget about it?”

“what?”

“forget that it happened, okay?” you demanded, wanting nothing more than to just go home and lock yourself in your bedroom.

“what if I don’t want to forget about it?”

“huh?” you mutter, making riki go silent.

“why…?” you ask, in an almost inaudible voice.

“please don’t make me say it,” he begs, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

“say what?” you reply with genuine confusion. he takes a slow, deep breath before answering.

“I really like you y/n and I have for a while.”

what. the. actual. fuck.

“that…doesn’t make any sense,” you ramble,“why- then why did you reject me back then?”

“I wanted to impress my friends and if I rejected you… I thought that maybe they would think I was cool,” riki admitted shyly.

“that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” you snapped.

“I know I know, but please let me-”

“don’t you think you're a bit too late?” you asked coldly, causing his face to fall.

“I…” he mumbled before stopping himself.

“can you please give me a second chance?” riki pleaded, his eyes glassy.

“why should I? you never even gave me a first chance,” you retort while crossing your arms.

“I know, I messed up badly and I really regret that,” he confessed in a shaky voice, “I'm so sorry y/n. I really am.”

the logical part of you wants to scoff at his words, reject him, give him a taste of his own medicine. but the other part of you consists of the feelings you have for him; the feelings you’ve been ignoring for years, not wanting to accept the fact that you were still infatuated by your first crush. you wanted to be with him. you always have.

“I can’t forgive myself for making you hate me but-”

“hate you? I don’t hate you,” you replied as you tugged on the end of the sleeve of your sweater, making it cover your bare hand.

“wait, what?” riki said with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“I hate that I still like you,” you admitted softly, with a small smile appearing on your face.

your words made his face light up in an instant, his bright eyes looked like they held galaxies in them.

you shifted your gaze from his eyes to his lips, which felt so warm and soft against yours a few minutes ago. now they were cracked and more of a purple color due to the chilly weather, but you still wanted to kiss them nonetheless.

you look into riki’s eyes again before taking a hesitant step towards him, your feet crunching on the snow beneath you. it seemed like he was able to read your mind because he copied your actions, taking a step towards you. leaving barely an inch in between the two of you, riki cupped your face with his hands as he pulled you in for a kiss. you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. it felt so good to finally be able to embrace your feelings for him.

after you both pull away, you notice small white specs falling onto riki’s hair. you tilt your head up and look at the sky just to see snow dancing down from the flurries above you. you look back at riki, both of you wearing cheesy smiles on your faces due to the sudden snowfall. he pulls you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, embracing his warmth.

“promise me you won’t push me away ever again,” you say almost inaudibly, speaking into his skin as you hug him tighter.

“I promise,” riki replies, laughing lightly.

“and don’t be so stupid!” you scold him half-jokingly, making him laugh even harder.

note : the more I continued writing this, the more I hated it. I feel like the ending is really rushed so I’m very sorry 😭 I feel like I could’ve done better but I wanted to write something and have it up in time for xmas. ANYWHO, thanks for reading and I’ll be back to updating chapters for rage quit. and once again happy holidays!!

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ageofevermore · 1 year ago

Text

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

SUMMARY — when you believe your girlfriends to be dead, the last thing you want to do is celebrate christmas without them. and when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home, oh baby, baby merry christmas

Christmas had never felt so lonely. Your favorite time of year had never felt so despondent. You used to love the scent of fresh pine as it melted into the air and made the entire house smell like winter, but now it made you queasy. You used to bask in the sight of mistletoe hanging from door frames, waiting beneath it for the lips of your lovers to find their way home and encapsulate you in a picturesque snow globe moment, but now the very sight of it made you dizzy and clammy and sick. You avoided the holly and ribbon that decorated banisters and you threw away the gingerbread cookies somebody had left sitting on the kitchen counters. You had never felt so disconnected from the jouissance of December 25th, but you had also never lost all connection to your girlfriends who were off risking their lives for the greater good.

Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since their comms went offline and nobody had heard a single word from them since. Everyone was somber, everyone felt hopeless, but nobody was as affected by the loss as you. You couldn’t find it within yourself to roll out of bed, or to mingle with your friends who were thankfully alive and well but Tony and Pepper still sang Christmas carols as they made dinner, and Bucky and Steve still watched old movies on the couch while reminiscing about the holidays in the forties, and Sam and Rhodey still decorated the tree with candy canes and popcorn garland because they believed that everything would turn out alright in the end. They believed Wanda and Natasha would find their way home, but you had never gotten so lucky. You had never gotten back the things that you lost.

You always told them that if anything were to happen, it would destroy you. You always told them that they were your entire world; your entire purpose. They never believed you. They always thought you were stronger than you were. They always saw the best parts of you, even when all you saw were shattered edges and a broken heart. Now they were thousands of miles away in a snow covered little town, and you were all alone in one of the most beautiful cities in the world barely clinging onto hope. Were they still alive? Were their bodies still warm and soft and careful? Were they still together, unaware of the fact that everyone back home was holding their breath expecting the worst? For seventeen days, all you managed to do was think about the worst. Afterall, nothing good ever happened to you. You were the harbinger of death, even if they tried so hard to change your mind.

When Steve knocked on your door, you let him think you were asleep. You let him stand outside on his own with a plate of decorated sugar cookies, trying his damndest to keep you afloat in the center of this storm that shattered your once stable ground. “It's Wanda and Natasha. They’ll be alright.” He was so certain, so hopeful. You hated him just as much as you hated the sparkling lights that Tony hung up outside. Even with your bedroom lights off and the curtains drawn, those red and green lights still brightened up your bedroom. Even with the comforter over your head, you could still see their faces as they boarded the quinjet thinking they’d be home in only a couple of days.

The winter months had brought inches of snow to upstate New York, covering the frozen ground in fresh white powder that crunched beneath even the gentlest of footsteps. Your heavy coat and fiery red knit mittens could only keep out so much of the brutal cold that made even Tony’s teeth chatter as he watched from the patio near the landing strip, but you couldn’t feel anything besides heat as you hugged Natasha around the neck and let Wanda’s wandering hands hold your waist.

“It’s Christmas. Do they really need you for an intel mission? I thought that was Maria’s job.” You mumbled petulantly into Natasha’s neck, not intending on letting go anytime soon. She knew that, Wanda knew it just as well. The redhead's hug was familiar, homely – but nothing you said could get her to stay. She had a ledger to wipe out, and no matter what light you saw her in, she’d always believe her hands were stained with red and it was her responsibility to do everything she could to right her wrongs. The wrongs she’d never had a conscious choice in, but still haunted her in the middle of the night when she was most vulnerable.

“Maria deserves one Christmas to herself, detka.” Natasha wistfully kissed your head, smoothing back the baby hairs that whipped around in the harsh winter wind and fell in front of your eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against your hot skin, but the embrace was fleeting as she pulled away and straightened out the wrinkles in her stealth suit. The snow made crinkling sounds as she took a step back, and let you have a moment with Wanda, hating the way her nose burned and her eyes watered as their departure time grew closer and closer. After everything that happened, the chitauri and Loki and Thanos and Dreykov, she never thought saying goodbye to you would be the hardest thing she had to do.

“Why do both of you need to go?” You whispered to Wanda, letting her pull you in close to her heart when she saw that your shoulders began to tremble and your hands blindly reached out for Natasha, desperately wishing you got just one chance to be a normal couple. They wished the same, but there was nothing any of you could do about the fate of the world resting in the hands of the Avengers. That would never change, even if all you wanted was to be normal citizens for one Christmas season.

“We’ll be back soon. I promise.” Wanda kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel her against you. Your covered hands did their best to cling to her, but she was stronger, and with sadness in her deep green eyes she forced herself away from you with one last gentle kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled, letting yourself fall into Natasha one last time before she boarded the jet behind Wanda. “Be safe, please.”

“Always am. I love you, don’t give Tony too much grief.” She knew how you could get when they were both away on a mission together, especially so close to your favorite holiday, but it was only a six day mission, she was sure you could handle that. Six days and they would be back in one piece, ready to decorate the tree and hide presents in every nook and cranny of the compound that they could think of.

“I can’t make any promises if he insists on putting up the Iron Man inflatable again.” Despite the sadness in your heart, you manage to crack a joke that has Natasha smiling. You love the way she smiles and how her eyes light up like Christmas lights, but it’s over too soon, and before you can find a reason for them to stay, the quinjet is taking off and your entire heart is flying away into a battlezone.

The bedroom you’re supposed to share with Wanda and Natasha is the only space in the compound left untouched by Christmas, and you’re eternally grateful for the lack of reminders that tonight's Christmas Eve, and your heart isn’t with you. The empty pit in the bottom of your stomach feels like it’s only growing bigger the longer you go on without any confirmation that they’re okay. You can’t stomach the optimistic banter that fills the common room when you're around, and how your friends hold onto hope that they’ll find a way home like Christmas miracles are something you deserve. You know the truth, you’ve seen the truth too many times to believe in such fairytales, and despite their luck at evading death, your girlfriends aren’t invincible. They’re human, just like you. They’re breakable and they’re killable and at the end of the day there’s only so much that they can take until they crumble. You wish that their teammates would remember that. You wish the world would remember that Earth’s mightiest heroes have families too.

There’s another knock on your door all too soon, but unlike Steve’s, it’s not as passive, and whoever’s so desperate for your attention doesn’t relent even after you make no sounds to indicate that you’re awake or even alive. You haven’t used your voice in days, having had no reason to as you’ve avoided everybody to the best of your abilities, but somehow you manage to find the strength to send them away, but even that doesn’t dissuade the persistent person outside of your door who only knocks louder and more urgently. It’s enough to make you want to cry, just wanting to be left alone, but nothing ever goes your way.

With light footsteps, you throw your bedroom door open, glaring up at whoever decided they needed your company. Tony’s bashful expression doesn’t melt your anger the way you hope, and impatiently you wait for his explanation with your arms folded across your chest. You’re wearing one of Wanda’s shirts, drowning in the oversized t-shirt that was one of the first she’d ever had after moving in. It smelled like her when you put it on, but six days is a long time, and now the only thing that clings to it is your tears. Natasha’s pajama shorts are tied around your hips, two sizes too big but the only comfort you’ve had throughout this entire experience. They’re a deep shade of red like her hair and the softest shorts you’ve ever felt, but nothing is softer than the way her hands grip at your skin in the middle of the night when she needs you close. Nothing will ever be as comforting as having them in bed beside you.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Tony states the obvious, scratching at the stubble growing out of his chin that he hasn’t bothered to shave away. Pepper doesn’t mind the scruff, but your heart aches knowing that Natasha would’ve had some kind of comment about his graying features.

“No shit.” Your response is dry, and your voice is hoarse, but you can’t find it within yourself to tolerate his intrusion to your depressing quiet that is just barely keeping you together. “Did you need something?”

“Pepper thought you’d want to join us for a movie. Just one.” The sincerity in Tony’s voice is a rarity that only a few lucky people get to experience, but you can’t find it within yourself to give him the time of day. He’ll never know what this feeling is like, and for some reason that only makes you angry as your eyes slit into daggers.

“No, thanks.” You’re about to slam the door in his face when you hear a commotion out in the common room and Maria anxiously calling your name, the echo traveling down the festive hallway that makes you want to throw up. There are wreaths on every door, and in the center of the hallway is a red-berry stock of mistletoe, taunting your lonely lips that haven’t felt the kiss of your girlfriends in almost three weeks.

Almost too quiet to make out, Maria’s voice is shrill as the commotion in the common room only amplifies, but what followed wasn’t anything you would’ve expected to hear after seventeen days in the dark, but the second your brain processes what Bucky shouts, you’re fleeting to the source in seconds, side stepping Tony and practically tripping over yourself with an evident lack of grace as your limbs fly around wildly. “The comms are online!” Bucky’s words repeated over and over again in the front of your head like that godforsaken Christmas carol Tony had been singing all day, but everything became quiet the second static crackled out from the speakers of the laptop Maria was feverishly typing on, trying to secure the line Wanda and Natasha were supposedly on the other side of.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to look at anyone besides Maria as you all gathered around the couch and watched the woman work at a pace you’d never thought was imaginable. Your tired eyes bore into her soul despite her fixation point being the laptop screen, but you knew she could feel your desperation. Your entire body was crying out to have some relief, to be told that this was real, that somewhere out there, Wanda and Natasha weren’t separated and alone, that they were alive and ready to come back home just in time for Christmas. Nothing good ever happened to you, but they had, and you couldn’t afford to lose them now. Not when you had come so far to fix what had been broken a million little times over.

“Nat!” Maria shrieked when the static cracked and the faintest hint of a voice filled the silent room, so still that you’d know if a pin dropped and hit the hardwood floors. Another whirl of static almost deafened Steve and Bucky, but Maria was quick to adjust the frequencies and bring the voices of your girlfriend home, even if their bodies were five thousand miles away. “Nat! Maximoff! Can you hear me?”

With hardly any patience left in your agonizingly numb body, you reached for the laptop with the little strength you could manage, feeling your knees tremble the longer you stood on your own two feet. Maybe it was the lack of food and water, maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion you felt both mentally and physically that reduced you to nothing but a pile of bones and skin. Whatever was the culprit, it had you feeling like the world was about to collapse around you if you didn’t hear their voices. You only had this to hold onto, you couldn’t bear to see it get taken away after all these days.

“Nat.” Your voice was soft, trembling and hoarse just like it had been when you greeted Tony, but there was a thickness in it that held nothing but adoration for the redheaded woman that so bravely risked her life over and over again. “Natty, can you hear me?”

The static cracked again, and just when you were about to lose hope, just when you were about to chuck the laptop across the room and drown yourself in a bottle of whiskey, that silky voice you loved so much cut through the static and called out to you. “I can. Clear the land-” The static broke apart her words, it filled the room with a horribly deafening sound, but all that filtered through your mind was that they were alive. They were alive and they sounded okay. That was all you could ask for.

“Nat. Nat. Hello?” You bellowed, keeping the laptop away from your face knowing that it always sounded clearer from a distance. “Wanda?”

“H-h-home.” That was all you could make out before the signal was lost completely and the connection died again, but unlike before, your world didn’t feel so dull. There was an energy in your veins that hadn’t been there before, and with reluctance, you handed the laptop back to Maria bearing a smile nobody had seen in almost three weeks.

With the news of your girlfriends coming home, you finally took in the sight of the common room. You had missed all the little things that Tony had added this year, so stuck in your head on the few occasions that you ventured around the compound. There were the typical Christmas decorations that he pulled out from storage every December, like the fake snow on top of the mantle and the customized stockings with all of your names embroidered on the top, the ten foot tree that was adorned in warm yellow lights, and the annoying train that circled the tree on a loop, but there were little nutcrackers all in the Avengers costumes on the mantle as well, and a picture you’d never seen before of all of you together last Christmas, smiling and laughing and looking so at peace, it almost felt like a normal family celebration had you overlooked the cuts and scrapes on Sam’s cheeks.

Your girls were coming home. Maybe Christmas miracles did happen.

⋆*:･ִ ࣪🎄ೃ࿔

A snowstorm had drifted toward upstate New York in the hours you spent waiting by the door for Wanda and Natasha, curled up into yourself just trying to keep warm as snowflakes turned the frozen ground white just like it had on the day of their departure. Something about it was sweet, but another part of you dreaded the sight of fresh powder like even the thought of it would make this entire nightmare start over again. Stubbornly, you’d decided to wait by the window for the quinjet to arrive, not wanting to miss their arrival by any means, but the mug of hot chocolate you’d made to keep your insides warm had gone cold in minutes and as the harsh wind blew in, your porcelain skin became raw and red. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, not wanting to impede on your intimate reunion with the two women who you yearned for desperately. You appreciated the sentiment behind their actions, but the loneliness that had crept into your bones was only amplifying as the minutes ticked by so agonizingly slow. It was almost three in the morning when the first flickers of light came from off in the distance, followed by the unmistakable sound of a plane landing in the backyard. Bolting from the common room and leaving your snowman mug of cold chocolate on the side table to rest, you shoved the patio doors open with little regard for how you might snap the hinges, racing to see your girls emerge from the quinjet in one piece. Your naked legs weren’t protected from the cold, and your sock clad feet grew wet in seconds as they stomped over the snow, but you couldn’t even begin to register the feelings as you looked expectantly at the large black and sleek airplane.

When the gate began to lower to the ground, and wisps of red hair became visible in the darkness of nightfall, you wasted not a single second before you raced into their company and threw your arms around the first woman you could reach with all of your might. It was Wanda that earned your embrace, and the Sokovian woman returned your hug with the same intensity, her nimble fingers running through your hair and working apart all the knots and tangles that had formed over days of being left unbrushed. You wailed into Wanda’s chest with little grace, throwing your dignity somewhere out into the snow without care of who was watching from their bedroom windows. As you fisted the neckline of her stealth suit and dug your nose into the warmest crevice of her neck, your eyes searched for your second lover who was only inches behind your entangled bodies.

“N-Never do that again.” You sobbed desperately, reaching a trembling hand out for Natasha to hold, wanting to feel the both of them against you. “Promise me you’ll never do that again!”

Deep down, you knew that was something they couldn’t promise. No matter how much it would mean to you to never have to sit alone in the dark wondering if they were even alive, this was the only thing they knew outside of your love. This was the only thing that helped them sleep at night. It would be cruel to ask them to give up the one outlet they had for all of the trauma and pain they kept inside. You could never ask them to give this job up, not until they were ready to do it for themselves, but for tonight, beneath the stars and the sunflakes, they agreed.

“I missed you so much.” Wanda admitted as she laid innocent kisses to the cold skin of your neck, her warm body doing its best to keep yours from freezing as you shivered in the cold in only a thin pair of shorts. Her wandering hands found a home on the back of your thighs, and she smoothed her palms over your skin until they didn’t feel so cold anymore, but she could only help so much as the snow came down around you like a shaken snow globe. “Let’s get you inside, moya lyubov.” Her voice was thin as it carried through the open field, just loud enough for you to hear her, but it still made your heart skip a beat after so many days of painful silence.

Reaching a hand out for Natasha to hold, you linked your frozen fingers with the redhead and let your other girlfriend lead the way inside, leaving the quinjet to be dealt with at a later date, preferably by somebody else. They knew you wouldn’t be letting them out of your sight for the foreseeable future, and selfishly they didn’t mind your clingy behavior that always reared it’s head after a mission. Your girls yearned to feel wanted, to feel like they truly belonged after so many years of being treated like they were replaceable. You gave them everything they never thought they would have, and even after six years together they questioned what they did to deserve you or each other. You were all alike in that way, always willing to shell out comfort and reassurances but unable to internalize for yourself to believe. One day, the three of you would believe that you deserved to be happy, but for right now, you had each other to lean on.

When you made it back into the compound and Natasha closed the patio doors behind you, the scent of pine and cinnamon hit you in the face like a brick. For the first time in eighteen days the lingering essence of Christmas didn’t make you queasy. The kitchen was dimly lit with electric candles, ribbons and bows hung on every cabinet door like a Hallmark card, and in the center of the island were gingerbread houses Tony and Steve had spent hours competing over, decorated with stale vanilla icing and crushed up candy canes. The warmth from the furnace circled around your trembling body in a tight embrace, making your skin burn as it was forced to adjust to the rise in temperature in only seconds, but you welcomed it with a light heart and gleeful eyes.

“I felt so lost without you.” You whispered, leaning back into Natasha’s chest, letting her arms slink around your waist and keep you close to her despite her desperate need to shower and slip into comfortable clothes. You didn’t mind the weapons digging into your back, or how she smelt of sweat and blood, just glad to have her back home for your favorite day of the year. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be able to handle anything bad ever happening to you. I know this is your job, but it doesn’t scare me any less when shit like this happens. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t afford to lose the only happiness I have.”

Wanda’s gentle hands cradled your face as Natasha held onto your body. They cherished your tender heart and all the broken pieces that made you the woman that they loved. “We will always come home to you. No matter what may happen, or who might come for us, you are worth fighting for.” Wanda’s red lips laid the softest kiss on the tip of your nose before Natasha was leading you down the halls and toward the bedroom, sparing a glance at the common room that illuminated a gentle glow as the Christmas tree remained lit in the farthest corner from the entryway. The fight wasn’t worth it anymore. Not when they had so much to lose. Maybe now, in snow soaked stealth suits bearing bruises and cuts and the blood of the enemy, they could finally find peace within their broken hearts to give this up.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, dorogoy.” Natasha’s husky voice sent shivers up your spine as Wanda closed your bedroom door gently, not wanting to disturb the rest of the compound anymore than you already had. Natasha’s fingers worked at pulling your shorts off, and then your top, discarding them on the floor to be dealt with later. Wanda didn’t need to be asked to grab you a change of clothes, already scouring through the closet until she found the matching pajamas you’d ordered a month ago. Two days ago, you laid in bed alone, staring angrily into the dark closet wishing you’d never even ordered them. You hated the reminder of what you didn’t have, of what you might never have again, but in this moment, you knew it was the right call. As Natasha laid kisses from the lobe of your ear, down your neck, and past the blades of your shoulders that were tense from nights of restless sleep, you knew you didn't regret a single thing that led up to this moment.

Wanda was the first to get changed, slipping into the red and white checkered pajamas set with ease and leaving her stealth suit in a ball on the floor to be dealt with later. Her callused hands replaced Natasha’s on your bare waist when the older redhead peeled away to change her clothes, you melted into her rough hands, sighing in content when she began to work out the knots in your back and shoulder blades. “Did I ever tell you your fingers are magical?” You practically moaned when she hit a sensitive spot between your shoulder blades, wincing away from her touch before you sank back in. She giggled, letting her lips dance across your neck softly.

“Once or twice.” She teased, but just as quickly as she coaxed you into her grip, she was pulling away and helping you get dressed, only pausing when her green eyes caught sight of something hanging from the ceiling. With your shirt halfway over your head and your shorts hanging off your waist yet to be tied, your eyebrows furrowed as she twisted in her grip and looked at her.

“What?” You asked breathlessly, letting your fingers dance along her cheekbones. The bed rustled as Natasha climbed in, and seconds later you heard her beautiful laugh as she looked up toward the ceiling.

“Look up.” She hummed, and Wanda took that as an invitation to settle a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head upward toward the ceiling. Despite the lack of Christmas in your bedroom, one single stock of mistletoe hung from a string, hardly visible in the darkness of midnight that engulfed you like a warm blanket after days of feeling like a punishment.

“Mistletoe.” You mused gently, letting your lips crash against hers in a passionate embrace that you had so desperately longed for. Climbing into bed to share the same passion with Natasha, your forehead rested against hers heavily as you panted for breath. “Remind me to thank Tony later.”

Your girlfriends laughed as you settled into bed, four arms hanging off of your body as you were sandwiched in the middle, finally at peace after three weeks of agony. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered into the dark as sleep took over.

Wanda kissed the back of your head and Natasha kissed your hand, both entirely content with this simple little moment that was entirely deserved. “Merry Christmas, detka.”

#wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #avengers x reader #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #fluff #wandanat angst #wanda maximoff angst #natasha romanoff angst #angst

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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months ago

Note

hello!! how about something with spencer about christmas? 🎄🎄🎄

Lovely Christmas 🎄 [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: the entire team gets together to celebrate Christmas and Spencer gives you a pleasant surprise.

note: merry next Christmas everyone! I hope you like it:)

Christmas, time to celebrate, give and receive. All that advertising in the stores worked to the point that you really felt a certain warmth on the holiday, despite the low degrees of the Virginia climate.

The team members, at Penelope's initiative, had agreed to have a small meeting to celebrate Christmas Eve this year, due to the uncertainty of not knowing how many Christmases you had left as a team because of everything chaotic that had happened lately. Mainly also because you had never celebrated that date together.

Everyone was there, the little ones, the older ones, some old members of the team, the new ones, husbands, wives, friends... in short, it was a big party. Of course Dave had offered his house to host the event and you, without complaint, had agreed. He had probably hired someone to do it, but the house was decorated masterfully, with lights, trees, Christmas boots, a life-size dancing Santa and even the white snow bathing the entire patio that could be seen from the glass doors. That's why Rossi couldn't be prouder, being the best of hosts as he always was.

You were euphoric about everything and you didn't even know where you should start enjoying. On the one hand, there was the opportunity to talk to friends from work that I hadn't seen in years, on the other hand, you could spend time with the kids and hug little baby Morgan, and last but not least, you could drink punch and hot chocolate in the company of the group that had gathered in that area. You decided on that option and very soon you were chatting friendly with Aaron and Emily.

“Jack wants a video game console for Christmas and I told him that only if he behaved well Santa could bring it, although I have a feeling that only one of us is pretending that he exists” he was telling you, laughing, when suddenly someone interrupted him.

“Jeez, it's freezing outside,” the voice, quite familiar to you, complained.

It was Spencer, who had just arrived with rosy cheeks, snowflakes scattered in his hair, his purple scarf and an ugly sweater that had gingerbread men all over it. He looked simply adorable.

“Reid!” you said happily, walking over to give him a hug which he gladly reciprocated. “Do you want me to serve you a cup of chocolate?”

“Oh, I would love you even more if you did that,” he replied, grinning at you from ear to ear with those gorgeous white teeth.

Being with all your friends makes you very happy, but there is one friend in particular who completely lights up your world. That's Spencer, and he was doing it right then.

“Here you go, handsome,” you murmured playfully, while you placed a full cup between his recently ungloved hands. He sighed as he took a sip of the drink and looked at you gratefully.

He joined in without any difficulty and soon the two of you were laughing at the story Emily was telling you, close enough to each other to be considered friendly. That's how it was always with him, despite his obvious fear of germs, he didn't mind being around you, much less when you laughed and leaned against his side a little or when you were telling a story and you constantly touched him. It felt natural to him, only when it came to you.

Rossi served turkey for all of you, one that you knew he had prepared because of the peculiar flavor and Italian ingredients. You had sat in front of Spencer and thanks to that you could see all his expressions during dinner, which were pure happiness. Seeing him happy made you happy too, as if you were infected with a delicious disease.

And suddenly you found yourself staring at him for too long and making jokes just to make him smile, as if he was the only one there with you.

During dinner you shared anecdotes, as always, Penny handed out candy to children and adults, the former members talked about how their new job was going and among all that it very soon became almost midnight.

Some sadness and surprise-filled your chest when Spencer announced that he would be the first to leave.

“I'm going to visit my mom,” he had explained, because you remembered that Diana was now in a health center that was only an hour away. No one dared to hold him back when they found out his reason and there were only a few goodbye hugs.

However, you told the man that you would walk him to the door and as you did so you pulled one of the bags on the floor with you. You stopped under the door frame, which could be seen from the small living room where the group had moved after dinner, and then you spoke.

“Drive carefully, okay?” was the first thing you said, lovingly adjusting the scarf that he was wearing around his neck. “And call me when you get there.”

“I will do it, calm down”

“Before you go, I want to give you something,” you murmured softly. You took out two decorated packages from your bag, one purple and the other pink “One is for you and the other is for your mother. Wish her a Merry Christmas from me”

“Y/N,” he said, sounding touched by what you were offering him. It was clear that what he had in his hands were books and he felt a tug in his heart when he thought that you had gotten one for his mother “I didn't bring you anything, I'm so sorry.”

“That doesn't matter, Spence,” you responded affectionately “It's just a detail, but I hope you like it.”

The man was about to respond when a whistle caught the attention of both of you and when you looked in the direction of the room you noticed that everyone had their eyes on you.

“Tough luck, lovebirds,” Morgan laughed and for a second you didn't understand what was funny about it. But when he pointed his finger at a spot above your head, then you understood.

There was mistletoe there, and you and Spencer were right under it.

“It's tradition,” Rossi began to say, when if he knew that you would refuse, “You can't break it”

“Did you know that the meaning of mistletoe can be found in the culture of the Celts? According to some stories, the druids used it in their spells and even to resurrect the dead, according to some legends of which we have evidence and records in different sources. Furthermore, magical powers are attributed to the plant because it doesn’t come from the sky or the earth, since the roots are neither in the ground nor held in the air: the mistletoe is maintained thanks to the deciduous tree that it parasitizes”

You giggled childishly as you listened to Spencer speak, probably to calm your nerves at the thought of having to kiss him, and he didn't even notice because he was so excited to share that bit of knowledge he had for the occasion.

“And that's why you have to kiss her, Reid! Legend says that if a woman is kissed under the mistletoe, she will be able to find the love of her life. And who knows, maybe our poor Y/N already needs some luck in that area”

You wanted to kill JJ for saying that, but at the same time you couldn't think about anything but what he would do. You didn't even know if he would dare to kiss you in front of all your coworkers and you wouldn't blame him if he didn't, after all you were just friends.

"Would it bother you?" he asked quietly. He didn't look the least bit nervous and that really made you nervous.

“Do you really want to kiss me?”

“Well, it's tradition,” he murmured, shrugging, while he smiled at you calmly. Apparently this hadn't affected him like it did you.

“Okay, then it’s… it’s okay.”

You would have liked to say the words more calmly, but you couldn't, and the little confidence you had left disappeared when Spencer raised one of his hands to cup your cheek and planted a kiss on your lips. It was a gentle kiss, sweet and short, but it made you shiver completely.

Honestly, no one expected you two to actually kiss, that's why when he pulled away from you the whole room was completely silent. You were shocked, they were shocked.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said, carefully caressing the skin of your face with his hand that was still holding it.

You made a superhuman effort to find your voice.

"Merry Christmas too"

He gave you one last caress and then said goodbye to the rest, waving his hand happily; they responded a little less enthusiastically, probably due to astonishment. The door closed, but you stood, staring into space as you tried to process what had just happened.

“Someone help the poor woman, it looks like she is going to have a heart attack”

Nobody, absolutely nobody, expected a comment like that coming from Aaron Hotchner and perhaps that was what made the moment a thousand times funnier.

“Did Reid really kiss you? I hope we aren’t experiencing a collective hallucination.”

“He didn't even hesitate! That's my boy"

“Everyone shut up,” you said finally, feeling all your blood pooling in your cheeks as you walked back to the living room “I don't think any of you want to be knocked out by a federal agent on Christmas Eve”

They laughed and eventually so did you. Reid wrote you a message when he arrived with his mother and you smiled as you remembered the kiss he had given you, the one that, without a doubt just as the legend said, led you to find the love of your life.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #spencer reid christmas

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jxckchxmpi0n · 11 months ago

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Holiday Special

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, I thought I'd write some headcanons with Jack <3

Jack Champion x Reader |m.list

also, keep an eye out for 300 follower celebration!!!!

did not proofread

the holidays are always really busy and both you and Jack have been stressed, so to give yourselves a break you decided to go out in the snow.

Jack had pulled you into an open field begging you to build a snowman with you. "Baby, come on we have to go build the biggest snowman!"

He would start collecting the snow and create the base for the snowman, he then noticed you with your phone out taking a picture of him, so he made a small snowball and threw it at you "Oh, you are going to pay for that" you collected snow and threw a snowball back.

you would have a snowball fight for the next fifteen minutes which ended in Jack chasing you after he caught you, he then kissed you and said, "I love you."

you would dance in the field as he hummed a random song to you, a light breeze causing a chill to go over your body.

as Christmas got closer Jack couldn't help it anytime you went to the store, he would pick out matching pj pants.

you would argue (not really) in the baking lane trying to pick what cookie you want to make.

in the end you would pick three different types and Jack would be happy no matter what.

back at your shared apartment Jack would be decorating the place while Butters followed him around, you were putting together everything you needed to make the cookies.

The Grinch would be playing in the background, eventually, Jack would join you.

talking about how beautiful you look and how much he's in love with you.

"I think you're just so beautiful, you're my everything" You blushed at his words.

You would both be in the kitchen while you made the dough Jack would pick out the cookie shapes and place them in the oven.

Christmas day is here sooner than you thought, it was just you and Jack because of the snow stopping you from traveling.

You watched Jack in awe as he opened his presents, there were a few clothes and books that he wanted and as an extra gift, you got him a few Lego sets. He went crazy like a little kid when he saw the new Marvel set.

he leaped forward attacking you in kisses, peppering your face all over, and saying "I love it, and you" a million times.

for the rest of the day, it was mainly both of you cuddling and watching all types of Christmas movies, the good, bad, cheesy, horror.

there was nothing better than laying in Jack's arms, his hands running through your hair, hearing his heartbeat every time you cuddled closer.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #ethan landry x you #spiderman ethan landry #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fanfic #jack champion fluff

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kanasmusings · 11 months ago

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[Eng Subs DL] Musical Yuukoku no Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot) Op. 4 - "The Two Criminals"

Hello, and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate~! Otherwise, Happy Holidays! I am here to share the English subtitles for more MoriMyu~!

Oh gosh, I apologize for such a long wait...! Life just punched me around a bit with studying for board exams (which I passed, thankfully!), a bit of technical problems with the BD version, and a lot of real life things I needed to take care of before the year ends (￣▽￣*)ゞ

Op. 4 covers chapters 33-47 of the original comic, with a few scenes/moments omitted. It is essentially the build-up to the climax of the story that was covered in Op. 5! We were also blessed with the addition of Miss Mary Morstan and Adam Whiteley for this musical, and I hope everyone falls in love with them, too~!

Anyway, here are the subs~! A huge, huge thank you to @mouldering for helping me with proof-reading and quality checking! I wouldn't have been able to finish this before Christmas without your help~! ♡ ～('▽^人) I will be updating the folders with the bonus content subtitles when I am able to as well, but for now, please enjoy the main show's subs~!

Links, notes, and disclaimers under the cut, enjoy~!

NOTES:

※ THE FILE IS SUBTITLES ONLY, VIDEO IS NOT INCLUDED! ※ The folder contains subs for a DVD version as well as a Blu-ray version! (I tested the DVD version on the BD a lot of times, and there was always a slight delay with the syncing, so I re-timed and re-styled it for the BD. You could technically load the DVD subs onto the BD, but you'd have to manually adjust the timing on your media player.)

All songs and lyrics were translated by me. A bit of creative liberty was exercised to fit context and some cultural references. As usual, the lyrics actually help move the plot, so I didn’t include the romaji for any of them. But, if you’d like to have the complete lyrics, I do have them saved up in PDF form, so feel free to DM me for them if you want ^^

Again, I’m not a native British English speaker, so some terms might be off. I consulted with a friend to help me check them, just in case, but please forgive any mistakes.

As usual, some scenes in the musical differ from the anime/manga for time and fluidity’s sake, so please don’t hit me for things that I can’t control ^^;

There aren’t particularly any triggering scenes here, but please do watch with caution since some subjects and terms used might be sensitive and/or triggering for other viewers.

@kumoriyami-xiuzhen requested me to do the bonus content subs, so I will be reblogging and updating the main post when they are up as well! ^^

RULES:

[MOST IMPORTANT] Please DO NOT re-post the subs and the link outside of Tumblr! If you want to share outside, please, please DM me about it and link my blog to your post. That’s all I ask.

Please DO NOT remove my credits.

Please DO NOT re-translate without permission.

SUBS DL LINK: GOOGLE DRIVE

※ Please only DM me if there is a problem with the subtitles. I cannot help you if it’s related to the videos. ※ If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a coffee here, if you can. It’ll really help me out a lot.(o^▽^o) Thank you!!

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chocotonez · 2 years ago

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skz putting their jacket over your lap

a/n: hiii, merry Christmas Eve if you celebrate!! I hope you all stay warm and enjoy your winter <3 also I forgot to put a read more on this one so sorry about that lolol

warnings/genre: gn language but y/n wears skirts, shorts and dresses and stuff, fluff, mentions of food and slight cat calling/harassment in seungmin’s (guys stare at u and whisper shit), discomfort in revealing clothing in hyunjin but that’s a really bad way of explaining it so see for yourself if u want

chan

-he always keeps his arm around you at public events, so when you were at a dinner party to celebrate the release of his new album he could feel how cold your skin was

-the dress was suggested to you by a stylist since you didn’t really know what to wear, but someone call irene cuz…

-you were constantly pulling down the skirt, and he could feel you shuffling like every five seconds because just breathing made the dress ride up

-“are you okay?? wanna go home?” And you, who’s literally eating the best fucking food you’ve ever tasted and having the time of ur life supporting ur boyfriend obviously shot down his offer

-so he took the coat he came in with because suddenly this takes place in the winter and puts it over your lap, before kissing the top of your head.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay? We can leave any time.”

lee know

-lovingly already giving you shit about it before you even leave the house

-“baby, I love you and all and I think you look amazing but those shorts are gonna be uncomfortable as hell”

-“hoes never give up their clothes”

-he didn’t wanna be overbearing so he was like “whatever nerd let’s go”

-you guys were sitting outside and you were already pulling your shorts down, minho only noticing when you entered a grocery store because wtf why r they so cold

-gives you the “I told you so” look and forces u to take his jacket :>

“wrap it around your waist idiot, tell me if you want to go home.”

changbin

-ur probably gonna have to ask him bevause dawg doesn’t realize

-but when you do tell him he’s like !!! “Oh my god I’m so sorry, of course you can have my jacket!!” and he’s holding ur hand all reassuringly and apologizing n ur like “it’s ok I was literally just unbearably cold”

-feels so bad that he didn’t notice how u were literally freezing to death :,)

-bonus is you get to see him roll the sleeves up of his collared shirts + he gets to see you comfortably enjoying yourself so everyone wins

“I’m so sorry again!! Tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

hyunjin

-your supporting your boyfriend at a little formal party, and it was an indoor event at a familiar location that has never been uncomfortable ever in your life

-and then it was uncomfortable, you were just rubbing your legs and the feeling of leather on bare skin was weird and why the hell was it so cold??

-but you looked so hot in this dress ?? so what can someone do. you didn’t mind dressing up, but being in such a weird environment made you dream of the pajama pants you’d put on when you got home

-hyunjin takes his suit’s blazer off and casually slides it over to you without even blinking an eye, as you look up like ??? dawg I didn’t even say anything and he’s just like “I know~~”

-he just knows you very well and he also likes the trope of u wearing his suit jacket after a party, so he insists you keep it because u look so cute

“I can just tell when you’re uncomfortable! I’m a psychic, hehe >:]”

han

-“eeee i don’t like this dress, I feel weird in it”

-“omg babe no!! u look so good :>”

-“no my legs r just cold”

-feels like a superhero and the coolest boyfriend ever to put his coat over your lap, he’s so proud of himself :,)

-he feels like he’s the protag of some romance drama, n he loves it!! and you’re no longer freezing ur ass off so thank goodness

-pretends to forget his coat so he can see you wear it on the way home or something like that

“hehehe, you look cute! do you need anything else? aren’t I just the best?”

felix

-idk he’d probably forget a jacket too so you’d both be awkwardly freezing at a restaurant so we’re gonna put you in an award ceremony

-you were his +1! so you dressed up extra nice for the evening, and you sat next to him as winners came up with their thank you speeches

-I think he’s very attentive to you if you guys go out together cuz he wants you to enjoy every moment with him!!

-so he notices v quickly when you use the table cloth as a blanket for your lap or shake your legs, and he hurriedly gives you his suit jacket so you don’t feel so uncomfortable

-kisses your cheek after, and when cameras catch this cute asf moment you two go trending on twt for 24 hours :,) you guys are just so cute together!!

“Does it feel better than the table cloth? I thought so, I can ask staff for something more accommodating, just let me know <3”

seungmin

-you guys are taking the train home after a day out, and you’re just scrolling on your phone before he leans over

-“the guys across from us are looking at you, do you wanna move?”

-you decide to just stay as the only free seats were reserved for others who needed it more, so you just say like 180 degrees away from them

-you could hear them whispering, and you subconsciously pulled your shorts down, not even knowing if that’s what the problem was

-you tried to ignore the gawking before you saw a grey hoodie fly over your lap, seungmin gently holding your waist to turn you back forward and giving the guys across from you the most uncomfortable eye contact until they stop

“Weirdos. Don’t feel insecure or anything by them, probably just never seen someone as hot as you before…”

jeongin

-trips over his two feet to get to you

-you guys planned for lunch at a cafe, and while you were waiting for him you texted “omg this skirt is so uncomfortable lolol” and next thing you know someone’s sprinting at you full force while holding their jacket

-it’s your loving boyfriend who broke into a sprint the second he read your text

-“h-here, put this over your lap if you want” “how far did you run??” “bro just take it I beg”

-you can’t help but laugh because he’s so out of breath and didn’t even mind the eyes staring at him because he was just running in a panicked frenzy

-boyfriend mode: activated

“I’m not a simp, shut up. Just want you to feel comfortable you loser. (lovingly)

#stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader

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ghostiexe · 11 months ago

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Teacher!Wilbur x Teacher!Reader Part 2

hello friends & merry christmas to those who celebrate! my gift is chapter two of this haha. i might start doing a taglist, so please let me know if you want added!! cw: lots of awkward conversation (not uncomfortable topics wilbur is just shy), wilbur spills boiling hot coffee on his hand, i think that's it!

words: 3,831

also, welcome tommy to the stage everybody :)

part one here

On Monday, you find yourself waking up to the realization that your alarm never went off. A panicked sound slips past your lips, and you practically throw yourself out of bed.

Okay, yes, a bit dramatic. However, you really don’t want to have to rush to get ready. You ended up having to go home before you were able to finish decorating your room, so you had been hoping to get to the school as early as possible and get it done.

You start to root through all your clothes, still mildly panicked. You finally find something suitable to wear, shoving it on and glancing yourself up and down in your full length mirror on your closet door. You sigh softly and nod at yourself, a weak attempt to hype yourself up. Then you drag yourself to the bathroom and start to brush your teeth, staring at yourself blankly in the mirror before you lean down, spit out the toothpaste, and hurry to finish the rest of your routine.

On your way out the front door several minutes later, you adjust your shoulder bag and sigh as you check the time on your phone. You don’t live too far away from the school, only a couple blocks, so you opt to walk. You don’t have a car, anyway– it had broken months ago, and you didn’t have the energy or money to get it looked at.

So, walking it is.

It only takes you about five minutes to get to the school, and when you arrive, you rush through the building to your room, shivering slightly from the walk. The school was mostly barren outside of a couple kids who were waiting outside and a few teachers you passed, though you didn’t know them. As you finally make it to your room, you reach for the door until you notice the sound of arguing a couple doors down.

You probably shouldnt pry, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you slip down to the door, peeking inside to discover Wilbur bickering with some tall blonde kid with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Wilbur is standing with his back turned to the door, trying to hang up a map, while the (presumably) teen boy sits on his dark oak desk and chastises Wilbur on his “horrible placement skills”. You clear your throat and they both turn their attention to you.

The blonde kid just stares at you, but Wilbur smiles. “Oh, hello!” He greets you. You nod, eyes slightly furrowed as you take in his outfit. It’s quite old looking, but it goes perfectly well with his large glasses.

“You look like you came straight out of the ‘90s.” You say instead of greeting him back, leaning on his doorframe. His face goes a bit pink and the blonde kid laughs loudly.

“That’s what I told him!” He says gleefully, like he’s just won an argument. Maybe he has.

Wilbur groans. “Tommy, go find your classes or something.” He grumbles, and you feel a flicker of confusion at the way the two of them interact. “Uh, and who is this, again, Wilbur?” You ask, pushing yourself upright instead of leaning and wandering further into his room. It’s a bit dark, the overhead lights are turned off. Instead, the room is lit by several lamps. You quite like it.

“Oh.” Wilbur says, gesturing to the blonde kid. “This is my brother, Tommy. He’s 17, I’m technically his legal guardian.” He says, and you nod, not pressing for further information. Tommy chimes in. “I’m actually a very strong man.” He informs you.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” You say with a laugh, starting to take in the rest of Wilbur’s classroom. “It looks nice in here, you’ve done a nice job.” You say, looking over at him. A playful grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Soot.” You add. Wilbur smiles bashfully.

“Thank you. Tommy hates it.” He says, running a hand through his brown curls. You laugh.

“Well, I don’t. It’s very cozy.” You say. Tommy groans. “Ugh, who cares about cozy? It needs some spice. Some danger.” Tommy insists, hopping off of Wilbur’s desk and sauntering towards the door. He salutes lazily to the two of you. “Anyway, have fun talking about boring teacher stuff, I’m going to go see if they have breakfast yet.” He says, then promptly walks away, sneakers squeaking as he goes. You and WIlbur both wince at the noise.

“He does it just to annoy me.” Wilbur informs you as the two of you both stare at where he just walked away. Wilbur’s gaze flickers over to you, and you nod.

“Little brothers.” You say, looking over and meeting his gaze. Wilbur cracks a small smile.

“Little brothers.” He agrees.

–

Four short (or painfully long, you can’t decide) hours later, it’s finally lunch break, and you immediately slump down onto your desk, groaning as you rest your head against it. Your kids were pretty good, and it was pretty relaxed since it was only the first day, but you’ve already got an itch on which kids will be causing trouble.

Tommy had ended up in your second period, and to your pleasant surprise, he was actually very enthusiastic about the topics you discussed teaching that year when you went through the class modules and he had very smugly told you to watch out for when he came back for your creative writing class later today.

You actually quite like Tommy, and his friends. He told you he’s friends with everybody, but you can tell by the way that most kids avoid him that he was just saying that. He does have these two kids that he was talking to, though, a short brown-haired boy and a really (ridiculously) tall boy with a mask. You don’t remember most of the names of the kids in your class, which– yeah, you should probably work on that– but Tommy’s group seemed mostly pleasant, if a bit chaotic.

Back to the present, you lift your head off of your desk and sigh as you reach for your tupperware with your lunch in it, dragging yourself to the teacher’s lounge to heat up your leftovers from dinner last night. When you get there, you see Wilbur hovering awkwardly by the microwave, posture a bit hunched as a small group of random teachers talk on the other side of the room.

You walk up to Wilbur and almost tap on his shoulder, but you refrain. You don’t know much about him, after all, he might not be okay with casual touch. Instead, you stand next to him.

“Hey.” You greet him, and he startles slightly, then his body languish shifts into something softer and less tense when he sees you. He offers you a stilted smile.

“Oh, hello.” He says, reaching to open the microwave when it beeps. “How has your first day been so far?” He asks, pulling his food out and pushing his glasses up with his opposite hand. You hum as you think of how to word your answer.

“Good, but exhausting.” You say after a moment, and he laughs softly, looking down at his food.

“That’s fair. At least you’ve got the upperclassman, yeah?” He asks, stepping away from the microwave and gesturing for you to go ahead. You pop your food in and start it, then turn back to him, clearing your throat.

“You’re right. Uh, how’s your day going?” You ask, and he cringes.

“Uhh, I think okay? The kids certainly haven’t forgotten that I’m the boring teacher, though. Um, hopefully I’ll be able to get them interested, though.” He says, tapping his fingers against his food container. Your eyes drift down to them and you notice how calloused they are, but don’t mention it.

“I’ll manifest it for you.” You say, smiling a little bit, and he laughs a bit breathlessly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” He says, shaking his head and shuffling awkwardly.

The microwave beeps and you pull your food out, looking up at Wilbur, who’s staring down at his shoes.

“...Do you want to eat with me?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. “Okay.” He agrees, looking back at you, then glancing around the teacher’s lounge. “Um, we can eat in my room.” He decides, then his gaze flickers back to you. “If that’s okay.”

You nod, cracking a smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you.” You tell him, holding your food close to your chest. He smiles back, this time a little less awkwardly, and nods.

“Okay, then. Um, it should be pretty quiet there. The only kid that really drops by is one of my brother’s friends, but I don’t know if he’ll be doing that a bunch this year.” He explains, and the two of you start the walk to his classroom, holding your respective tupperware containers.

“Oh? The tall one with the mask, or the really short one? Or are there some other secret friends hiding around the school somewhere?” You ask, since it’s wholly possible that Tommy has more than just two friends.

“Ah, the tall one.” Wilbur tells you, unlocking his door and holding it open for you. “Thank you.” You say, stepping inside and then letting him usher you over to his desk. He pulls over a comfy looking chair for you and gestures for you to sit, pulling over his own spinny chair to face you.

The two of you sit, and you tap your fingers awkwardly on the lid of your container. He looks at you, then down to your hands, then he clears his throat and starts to tap his blunt nails against his desk.

“Well.” He says, like he has something to say, but he doesn’t add anything after that, looking up to stare at you blankly.

You blink slowly. “Well…” You agree, sitting back in the chair and crossing your legs.

Wilbur takes the lid off his food and starts to poke at it with a black plastic fork. You set your food down in your lap.

“The Front Bottoms.” You say, trying to break the silence. He looks up at you, looking mildly bewildered, then huffs out a breathless laugh.

“What?” He asks, a bit of the tension melting away. You laugh too.

“Sorry. I just meant… Um, you like The Front Bottoms. What else do you listen to?” You ask, and he smiles shyly, looking down at his food.

“Oh, well, I like a little bit of everything.” He says, sounding a bit bashful.

“Come on, lay it on me.” You say, waving your hand as if to brush off his shyness. “Okay…” He says slowly, clearly trying to think. “Well… My favorite band is called Los Campesinos!, they’re a seven piece Welsh band.” He explains, pushing his glasses up with one finger. You think it’s adorable. “But I also like Crywank, Arctic Monkeys, um… The Strokes, american poetry club, Modern Baseball…” He cuts himself off. “Sorry, I’m talking a lot.” He apologizes.

“No, no, it’s okay! I asked, after all.” You reassure him, reaching over to pat his hand before pulling away and starting to poke at your food with your fork. “I know a couple of those bands, we have similar music tastes.” You say, lifting your fork and covering your mouth with your hand as you chew.

He smiles at that. “Oh, yay!” He says, clapping his hands lightly. You swallow and smile. “What music do you listen to?” He asks, looking genuinely intrigued. You think for a moment, genuinely drawing a blank.

“Oh, well, um…” You say, furrowing your eyebrows. He takes a bite of his food. “I- Uh, sorry, I’m not good on the spot.” You apologize, and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay. We can talk about music another time.” He says, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” You agree, setting your food down again in your lap. “By the way, what’s with the outfit?” You ask, immediately regretting the way you worded it when he frowns. “I love it! Seriously.” You add hurriedly, reaching over and patting his knee. “Just curious.”

He shifts slightly when you pat his knee and he crosses his legs, scratching his jaw as he thinks. “Uh, well… I’m not sure, I just like how it looks.” He says, gesturing to his outfit. “It reminds me of my favorite teacher from when I was in middle school. He was quite old, honestly, but he’s sort of my inspiration for becoming a teacher.” Wilbur explains, a light blush on his face. The soft ‘awww’ slips past your lips before you can stop yourself. “That’s… actually really sweet.” You say, smiling at him gently. “I kinda just assumed you were into the vintage fashion scene.” You say with a soft giggle.

“Well,” he says with a short laugh, “that’s also true. I mean, the glasses should make that obvious.” He says, gesturing to his face.

“Well, it suits you!” You say, smiling. “Seriously, I think you look very handsome.” You tell him, taking another few bites of your food before closing the tupperware and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it, usually the students just make fun of me and call me old.” He says with a soft laugh. “Well, clearly they have no culture.” You joke, gaze wandering from him to the bookshelf in the corner of his room. “Oh, do you mind if I take a look?” You ask, pointing at it.

“No, of course I don’t mind.” He says, putting his hands on his knees and standing up. You follow the action, walking with him to the back of the room. “This side is all textbooks,” he explains, gesturing to the right side, “but the other is all books I’ve brought from home for students to borrow.” He says. You nod and trace your finger over the spines of some of the books, glancing across them.

“I should do that, too.” You say, tilting your head to the side to read some of the titles. He hums.

“Yeah, you are the English teacher after all. Don’t want to get caught lacking.” He says, and you roll your eyes fondly.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks again. “You look nice, too, by the way.” He says.

You’re confused for a moment. “Huh?” His face goes a bit pink. “You said I look handsome. Um, you look great too. Your style suits you well.” He explains, and it’s suddenly your turn to blush. “Thank you.” You say bashfully, brushing a bit of hair out of your face. “Yeah, of course.” He tells you, reaching to pull a book out of the shelf, but suddenly the bell is ringing. You jump slightly and huff, placing a hand on your chest as your heart races.

“Fuck, I need to get used to the bell.” You complain under your breath, standing up straight. “Thanks for letting me eat with you, Wilbur, I seriously appreciate it.” You tell him. He nods. “No problem. I wouldn’t mind making it a habit.” He says, smiling at you. “Let me walk you to your classroom.” He tells you.

“And I wouldn’t mind that either.” You agree. “It’s only a few doors down.” You remind him. A couple kids start filing into his class.

“I know.” He says. “Please?” He gives you his best puppydog eyes and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, fine.” You relent, and he beams.

The two of you walk out of his room and he walks on the left side of you as you make your way down the hallway. Once you make it to your door, he opens it for you and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Soot.” You say, bowing clumsily at him. He giggles.

“Yeah, yeah. See you later.” He says.

“See you later.” You agree, nodding and stepping into your class. You sigh as you walk over to your desk, watching the student pile inside.

Time for your first creative writing class of the semester.

–

By the end of the day, you’re absolutely exhausted, and you feel like a mess. You probably look the part, too, seeing as Tommy gives you a weird look when he walks past you later in the hallway on your way to the teacher’s lounge on your prep period. You’ve been in there for probably twenty minutes now, just holding a mug of herbal tea and staring blankly at the floor. The ceramic mug is hot under your hands, a pleasant burn on the pads of your fingers as you space out.

All in all, not an awful first day, just… wow, you need to decompress. You’re so thankful that you didn’t assign anything for the first day, God knows you can’t grade right now. You’re mostly alone there until about fifteen minutes until school ends, when Wilbur happens to walk in, bee-lining toward the coffee machine. His sudden entrance makes you snap out of it, and you look up at him, walking as he sighs and waits for the coffee, having not yet noticed you.

After a minute of watching him in silence, he finally turns, holding his mug of coffee in his hands. Apparently he was not at all expecting anyone else to be in here, because he jolts slightly and a bit of coffee splashes out and all over his hand. He hisses in pain and sets the mug down, and you stand up.

“Oh, shit.” You say, setting down your own mug and walking over to him, lifting his hand and examining it. You drag him over to the sink and turn on the cold water, guiding his hand under it and holding it there, your own hand also under the water.

“This is embarrassing.” He mumbles after a moment, then laughs softly. “It’s fine. I’ve spilt boiling water on myself too many times.” You say, trying to console him. He hums in acknowledgement and you blink when you realize that you don’t need to be holding his hand anymore, pulling it away and wiping it off on your shirt. “Uh, you can take your hand out when it feels a bit better.” You tell him, walking over to the small table and grabbing some napkins. After a moment, the water turns off and you turn to hand the napkins to him. He dries off his hand and looks down, crumpling the napkins and tossing them into the trash. “Kobe!” You whisper shout, a habit ingrained into you from hearing teen boys do the exact same thing for years. He giggles and shakes his head, and you gesture for him to show you his hand. He lifts it obediently for you and you examine it before humming thoughtfully to yourself. “It doesn’t look bad, it’s only a first degree burn.” You tell him, letting go of his hand. “I have some lotion, it’ll help.” You say, looking up into his eyes. He nods, smiling shyly.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to.” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Are you sure? It’ll soothe the burn.” You insist. He relents after a moment.

“Okay. Thank you, I appreciate it.” He tells you, letting you lead him back to your classroom. You hum as you unlock the door and beckon him inside, taking his hand again as you lift your lotion from your desk and take a little bit of it, spreading it gently across his hand. He hums softly as you do so, and after a moment, you let go of his hand and spread the remaining lotion across your own hands.

“Does that feel any better?” You ask him, and he just looks down at his hand before glancing at you again. “Um, yes, thank you.” He says, smiling shyly. “You’re too kind, really.”

You both laugh softly and then you brush a bit of hair out of your face. “It’s no problem, Wilbur.” You assure him, smiling softly. “...we’re friends, right?” You ask, a little bit cautious now.

He seems surprised, but nods eagerly. “Yes! Yes, we’re friends.” He says, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder, but it is a bit comforting. You relax. “Okay, cool.” You say. “Cool.” He mimics. “Coooool.” You say, leaning forward slightly and smiling up at him.

He giggles and tentatively pushes your face away. “No more cool.” He says, trying to sound firm, and you return his giggle.

“Sorry.” You apologize, straightening up. “I’m glad that you’re my friend.” You say. “You’re pretty cool.”

“I’m hardly cool.” He scoffs, but he’s smiling widely. “I’m glad you’re my friend, too.” He agrees.

After you lock up your classroom and the two of you start going back to the teacher’s lounge to take care of both of your mugs. You both work in relative silence, only speaking again once both of you have finished.

“I hope you don’t mind…” Wilbur says, breaking the silence and glancing over at you. “But is it okay if I could get your phone number or something? Just so we don’t have to only talk at lunch and during our prep periods.” He explains, running a hand through his messy curls.

You ignore the way you have instant butterflies in your stomach, nodding. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, here, let me get my information pulled up.” You agree, pulling out your phone and smiling giddily to yourself before handing your phone to him.

“Thank you.” He says, looking a bit flustered as he puts your contact in his phone, then hands your phone back. “Text me so I can save your number, too.” You instruct him, looking down at your phone expectantly. After a moment, a text comes in that simply says ‘hi :)’.

You smile and send back an enthusiastic ‘hi!!!’ before saving his number as “Mr Soot >:)”

He giggles when he gets your text, shutting his phone off and putting it in his pocket. The bell rings, and you both look at the door.

“Well…” WIlbur says. “I look forward to talking to you.” He says, awkwardly extending his arm for a fist bump. You smack your fist against his and then unfurl your fingers as you

pull your arm away, making an attempt at an exploding sound as you do so.

“Text me whenever you want.” You tell him with a soft smile as you look up into his eyes. He nods and stuffs his hands into his pockets, smiling back at you.

“Okay, I will. Thank you again.” He says. “You seem very nice, I’m glad that our rooms are so close.” He says, face tinged a bit pink.

“I’m glad, too.” You say.

You definitely don’t spend the rest of your evening at home waiting (im)patiently for him to text you, and you definitely don’t kick your feet and shove your face in a pillow when he finally does.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur soot fanfic

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snowyslytherinowl · 11 months ago

Text

The First Perfect Christmas

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: For the first time in Severus's life, he won't be celebrating Christmas alone. This time, he'll spend the holidays with you, his girlfriend. Since it's your favorite holiday, Severus tries to get you every Christmas gift on your wishlist. But when not all the items you want are available, Severus worries that he'll ruin your Christmas and disappoint you.

Warning: a very brief reference to child/domestic abuse and there's angst, but there's nothing intense. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and even if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day! I know I haven’t published in a while since my life has been busy, but I wanted to at least write something for the holiday season. Also, I tried my best to use British English terms (I know I didn’t use British spelling, though) but I may not have gotten them all since I’m ✨American✨.

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape’s Christmas won’t be one of loneliness. He spent his childhood Christmases with his parents, but being with his parents was like being with no one at all. Every Christmas was the same; his father drank himself into a violent rage and his mother sat on the couch in silence. Severus envied the children who received the newest toys and ate warm meals beside a grand tree. At the very least, Severus wanted to spend time with his family even if there was no tree in the corner of the living room. Wasn’t Christmas time supposed to be full of holiday cheer and merry greetings?

You are the only person who makes him feel happy during the holidays. He stuck his nose up at the Christmas decorations around Hogwarts and not a single tinsel could be found in his quarters. But when the clock struck midnight on the First of December, you required him to add some holiday cheer to his quarters. He placed a mini tree in the living room, hung stockings above his fireplace, and lined the doorframe to his bedroom with garland. The colorful ornaments you gave him for the tree are a little too bright and tacky, but it doesn’t matter; he’d do anything to make you happy.

On the other hand, you decked out your Hogsmeade cottage in the spirit of the holidays. A train chugs around a miniature Christmas village, the large tree displays red globes and floating snowflakes, and a beautiful snow globe with white horses rests on your mantle. The aroma of gingerbread cookies and plum cake wafts from your kitchen as Severus walks into your cottage. You peek into the living room from the kitchen and smile widely as you see him come in.

“Come here!” you say enthusiastically to him, but you run towards him and pull him into the kitchen before he even has a chance to oblige. There are many baked goods on the counter, ranging from gingerbread cookies with iced smiles to a Yule log that actually looks like it was cut from a tree. Without warning, you shove something in Severus’s mouth and he almost spits it out from the surprise.

“How’s the plum cake? I’m in between giving my neighbors a plum cake or a plum pie. They said they like anything with plums, but a pie and a cake aren’t the same thing. So, what do you think I should bake them?” You look at him expectantly as he chews on the plum cake. It is absolutely delicious; it’s moist and not too sweet. Severus swallows the last bite and is about to respond when your eyes widen and you gasp. “Oh wait! I forgot to give you the pie!” Once again, Severus almost chokes as you shove the plum pie into his mouth.

“Now what do you think?” you ask him. Severus stares blankly at you. He doesn’t want to make the wrong choice and therefore disappoint you, especially since you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes. What if he chooses the cake and the neighbors deem it not moist enough? Or what if he tells you to bake the pie and the neighbors don’t like doughy desserts? It’s a minor decision to make, but he never wants to upset you; so, he chooses the sweet he likes more.

“I prefer the cake,” Severus says, pointing at the dessert on the counter. You beam at him and wave your wand to pop another cake into the oven.

“Thanks! Now why don’t you sit down on the couch and I’ll clean the kitchen up?” Before he can oblige, you gently push him out of the kitchen to immerse himself in the Christmas wonderland of your living room.

Severus sits next to the arm of the couch and looks around the room as he patiently waits for you. He notices an open journal on the side table and leans forward to look at the top page. It’s a list of some sort: a snow globe, notepad, pillow, and Iridescent Ink. Every wizard knows what Iridescent Ink is and he thinks the ‘pillow’ is the one he saw you looking at in Hogsmeade. The snow globe on your list likely refers to the one featuring Diagon Alley with reindeer flying overhead. He remembers how you gushed over how cute the reindeer were and how magical Diagon Alley looked… Wait, is this supposed to be your Christmas wishlist?

Severus’s head snaps to the snowman Christmas countdown, which lets him know that there are twelve days until your favorite holiday. Twelve days should be plenty to find all the gifts you want, but he still internally smacks himself for forgetting to buy gifts until now.

He immediately straightens in his seat and rips his gaze from your journal when you enter the room, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid. You wrap your arms around him and Severus blushes crimson. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year now, Severus reacts the same way whenever you touch him. “I can’t wait to cuddle with you tonight. It’s been extra cold recently.” You rest your head on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Yes, his thoughts about the pillow were definitely right. The pillow shapes itself around both sides of your body and adjusts when you move. He remembers how you teased him when you said, “I need something to cuddle with when you’re not here to be my body pillow every night.”

“I regret not being here to keep you warm every night, though you know that my responsibilities at Hogwarts are the only factors keeping me away from you.” Severus blushes again at your closeness and looks down. On the weekends, Severus stays overnight at your Hogsmeade cottage. You snuggle so closely and wrap your legs around his so tightly that your bodies are practically fused together. Although he isn’t particularly fond of being confined underneath your body, he does appreciate the warmth that envelopes him. “Even when I am slaving away under Dumbledore’s orders, you can always use a warming spell on nights like these.”

“Mmm, but I prefer it when you keep me warm.” Any thoughts about the hot chocolate awaiting him on the table flee his mind when you cup his face and kiss him on the lips.

After a night of suffocating cuddles, Severus untangles himself from your arms and slips out of the bed. When you stir awake and attempt to pull him back into the bed, Severus whispers an excuse about needing to retrieve essays to grade. You press a wet kiss to his cheek, murmur a farewell, and fall right back to sleep. He’s thankful that your shift at Scrivenshaft’s is later in the day since you won’t catch him apparating to Diagon Alley.

Stores in Diagon Alley have just opened when Severus apparates there. He heads straight for Scribbulus Writing Implements to buy Iridescent Ink for you. Rows and rows of ink line the shelves, making it impossible for him to find Iridescent Ink among colors like Eccentric Emerald and Plum Paradise. After he finds three jars, he heads for Rosa Lee Teabag. Even if you didn’t ask for tea on your wishlist, Severus still buys a box of your favorite tea. Then, a book with moving illustrations displayed in the shop window of Flourish and Blotts catches his eye. His cheeks burn when the cashier asks if it’s for his child, but his momentary embarrassment is worth it since you love books with colorful, detailed illustrations. Perhaps it could be passed on to his future child too.

He remembers seeing your desired snow globe at Ethereal Embellishments Emporium. House-themed snow globes line the top shelf and snow globes with a crackling fireplace lie below. Severus’s brow furrows when he notices that the Diagon Alley snow globe is missing. Try as he might to scavenge through the store and rearrange the shelves, Severus can’t find it.

Even when he asks the store clerk if there are any Diagon Alley snow globes in their inventory, his inquiry remains unsuccessful. She comes back with a box containing a snow globe in the shape of a lantern. A snowman and snowwoman hug each other and wave at the person outside the glass while snow falls around them. Severus frowns as he turns the snow globe in his hand. One reason why you like the Diagon Alley snow globe is because of the cute reindeer flying overhead, and this snow globe has cute snowpeople. Even though it’s nice, it isn’t the one you wanted. After handing it back to the store clerk, her thanks her for her time and leaves the store.

Awkwardly standing in the middle of the street, Severus feels a sense of dread as he considers where else he can find that snow globe. Dazzling Decorations Depot and Hartigan’s Holiday House both sell Christmas decorations. Though when he visits the two shops, he finds out that Hartigan’s has sold out of snow globes and Dazzling Decorations Depot doesn’t even sell snow globes.

His dread turns into panic. He only bought the Iridescent Ink, which can be bought at any stationery shop. The Hogsmeade store that sells the pillow is closed on the weekends. He’s afraid that if he purchases it on Monday, you’ll catch him walking back to Hogwarts with the pillow in hand. He can’t buy the notepad from Scrivenshaft’s either since you work there today and it’s closed on Sunday. The only other day you have off is Tuesday, but it may be sold out by then.

Of course, Severus can gift you items other than what’s on your wishlist. But what if you get angry that he didn’t get you everything on your wishlist? What if you don’t like the gifts he’s chosen for you? Would this ruin your Christmas? Examining the contents of the shopping bags from Rosa Lee Teabag and Flourish and Blotts, Severus can't shake the thought that the items he purchased aren’t good enough for you.

After returning to Hogwarts, Severus drops off what he bought and retrieves the essays he actually does need to grade. He returns to your cottage and sits at your kitchen table, grading the essays. Reading his students’ subpar papers on the properties of Wolfsbane Potion does nothing to distract him from his thoughts, especially as he hears the toot of the train chugging around the Christmas village. You decorated your cottage in the Christmas spirit, make him Holiday Blancmange every weekend, and send sweet notes to his office in Hogwarts Castle. Meanwhile, he hadn’t even thought to start buying gifts until yesterday.

Severus’s eyes brighten as you return home from work, but his gaze holds a bit of sadness as he thinks about what a poor excuse of a boyfriend he is. You laugh as you close the front door and quickly hide something behind your back. “Give me a second!” you say enthusiastically to him and dash into your bedroom. He finishes marking an essay as he hears you rearranging items in your room.

You come back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him from behind. “How was your day, sweetheart?”

“It can only ever be average when I must read my students’ atrocious papers,” he drawls and rests his hand over yours. “How was work? You are slightly later than usual.”

“It was stressful and the store was packed with people throughout my entire shift. You know, with it being the holiday rush and all.” You lean forward and kiss Severus’s cheek. “But I got something special for you.”

Feelings of guilt eat away at Severus’s heart and his shoulders droop, but he tries to shake it off before you notice. “Oh? Where is it?”

“You won’t get it until Christmas, silly.” You laugh and playfully push him. “By the way, what do you want to do for Christmas? I was thinking that we could just stay in and cook together. Oh! And what do you want to eat? We must have roast beef and I’ll bake any dessert you want.”

Severus thinks you look the most beautiful when you’re excited about something. Your eyes shine, you smile widely, and you shake his shoulders as you go on about whatever makes you passionate. He doesn’t deserve you, especially when you look as beautiful as you do now. He just smiles at you and mumbles, “Whatever you want, I will be happy with.”

After classes end on Tuesday, he walks down to Hogsmeade to buy the pillow and notepad. Lumos Living is swarming with customers when he walks into the store. Unfortunately for Severus, the shape-shifting body pillow is so popular that there are none on the shelves.

Severus’s pointer fingers pick on his cuticles as he approaches a store clerk restocking the shelves in the bedding section. “Do you have any of the shape-shifting body pillows in stock?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t. But we’ll restock on Friday morning, so you can come back and check on that day!” Great, just great. Yet another item on your wishlist that Severus can’t buy. He huffs and thanks the clerk as he stomps out of the store.

Scanning the streets of Hogsmeade, Severus ensures you’re not around as he makes his way to Scrivenshaft’s. Just as you described your shift on Saturday, the store is packed with wizards and witches alike. He hasn’t seen the notepad you want before, but he remembers how you described it to him after you came home from your shift several weeks ago. Every time you pull a sheet out, the next sheet morphs into a completely different shape and design.

The notepad and notebook section isn’t as busy as the rest of the store. There are flying notepads, notebooks that you can have conversations with, and notepads in the shape of a twinkling Christmas tree. Severus thanks Merlin when he finds the notepad you described and snatches it off the shelf before anyone else has a chance to grab it.

Severus walks toward the long checkout line with a slight pep in his step only to freeze as he catches sight of you. Tuesday is your day off; why are you even here? He ducks behind a table displaying a stack of notebooks as you turn to look in his direction. It doesn’t seem like you notice him since you calmly walk over to your coworker at the register.

The two of you have a brief conversation before your coworker hands you something. When you start walking in his direction, Severus dashes from the table to the opposite side of the store. You press something inside the keyhole of a door, which he assumes leads to the stockroom, without spotting your boyfriend.

Severus feigns interest in the limited edition holiday quills as he waits for you to leave. He slowly sorts through the boxes of Festive Featherflame Quills and pretends to look for the best quill. Another customer gives him an impatient look when he takes too long, so he awkwardly steps to the side. He turns around to look at the door to the stockroom, but you still haven’t emerged.

“Sev?” Severus jumps and begins to pick at his cuticles at the sound of your voice. He quickly shoves both the Festive Featherflame Quill and the notepad to the side. His eyes dart to a door beside the quill section, which has just closed shut. Realizing that this door also leads to the stockroom, Severus internally curses himself for not noticing it when he sprinted over here. “What are you doing here?”

“I… well, I am in need of ink and a quill,” Severus attempts to say nonchalantly. When your eyes wander to the shelf behind him, he turns his body to hide the two items from your sight.

“Okay…” you say and frown. “I just wish you bought it during my shift.”

“I apologize, my love, but I did not realize that I needed these two items until this morning,” Severus lies again, but feels a genuine twinge in his heart as you frown. “Further, why are you here today if you are not working?”

“I left my coat here last night.” You still look a little upset, but you peck a kiss on his cheek nonetheless. “I’ve got to run. See you in a few days, okay?”

With a sigh of relief, he watches the front door close behind you. He quickly retrieves the notepad he threw to the side and makes his way to the checkout line, which is even longer than before.

A bell from the second register rings, beckoning the next customer in line. He recognizes the store clerk helping him at the register as Mary, your favorite co-worker and the reason why you two are together. One chilly day in late November, Severus popped into Scrivenshaft’s to buy jars of ink. You caught Severus’s eye as he searched for ink and he could barely string a sentence together when you helped him at the register. Under the guise of buying ink and quills, he visited the store every few days, secretly reveling in the opportunity to admire you and exchange a few words with you. After several weeks, his office stationery drawer overflowed with ink and quills, and Mary noticed how enamored he was with you. During every free moment of your shifts, she teased you about him and eventually convinced you to make the first move.

“Severus, hey!” Mary says enthusiastically and louder than he would’ve wanted. Several other customers and employees glance at Mary and him. “How’ve you been? What are you getting today?”

“I am well. I would like this.” Severus hands over the notepad, causing Mary’s eye to twinkle.

“This one is so cute!” she gushes. Then, something seems to click in her mind and she gasps loudly, of course. “Wait! This is the one that your girlfriend wants!”

Severus looks around to see even more people looking at them, causing him to sigh. Keeping this purchase a secret from you is practically an impossibility at this point. “Mary, please quiet down. I do not want her to know that I am purchasing this for her,” he attempts to say calmly, but a hint of impatience leaks into his voice.

Mary makes a zipping movement over her lips and smiles giddily. “Don’t worry! I promise not to say anything.” She scribbles down the item and price on a record and then looks back up at him. “That’ll be five galleons.”Swiftly handing over the coins, Severus leaves the store with the notepad clutched firmly in his hand.

When his final class before lunch concludes on Friday, Severus shoos his students from his classroom and rushes down to Hogsmeade. He’s nervous that he won’t make it back to Hogwarts on time since the lunch period isn’t long and the village is full of cheery citizens participating in holiday activities. Though what makes him sweat is the possibility that Lumos Living has already sold out of all the shape-shifting pillows they restocked this morning. He can’t afford any more bad luck when it comes to gift-giving.

But unfortunately for Severus, his already minimal good luck has completely drained. There are no more shape-shifting pillows, no matter how many times he ransacks the store and sticks his hands into the crevices between the shelves. He mutters curses under his breath and stomps back to Hogwarts for the final classes of the day, where the students note that he is in an especially foul mood.

His only consolation after all classes end for the day is that the Christmas holidays have just begun, so he can spend two whole weeks at your cottage. His heart soars with excitement as he heads down to Hogsmeade, yet simultaneously sinks with self-disappointment for not buying everything you asked for.

When you arrive home from your shift, you stomp the snow off your boots and joyfully display a bottle of eggnog in your hands. “It was a little expensive, but why not? It’s Christmas and I get to keep you here for two weeks!” you cheerfully say as you hand him the eggnog. Severus waves his wand and pours two glasses as you continue, “I was thinking of going caroling after my shift tomorrow and I know you don’t like it, so I won’t drag you along. But I’ll make up for my lateness tomorrow night with smoked salmon for tonight’s dinner, okay?”

“That sounds delightful, my love,” Severus says quietly and sips his eggnog. Turning over the bottle in his hand, he sighs at your sweet gesture, which he feels he is unworthy of.

As you wave your wand to summon all the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, you turn to Severus and frown at him. “Is everything all right, sweetheart?” you ask, concern clear in your voice.

Severus looks into your eyes and sees genuine worry. He can’t bear the thought of ruining your day, so he forces a small smile and pulls you close to him. “Do not worry. I am fine. My head is merely spinning at the thought of the potions I have to brew for my stores over the Christmas holidays. At least those pesky students will not give me headaches for the next two weeks.”

You smile back at him and nuzzle your nose against his. “And I’ll start making dinner so you can get your head off things. But I still expect you to make one of your special drink concoctions.”

As the evening progresses and you eat a delicious dinner, he enjoys spending time with you and listening to you rave about what your friends plan to do for Christmas. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake up the feelings of guilt building inside him.

As you head off for work and caroling the next day, he takes advantage of the time alone to do some final holiday shopping. The store clerks at Lumos Living inform him that the shape-shifting pillow won’t be stocked until after Christmas, so Severus resorts to buying a body pillow that changes temperature based on your body temperature. Pillow stuffed in a bag, he apparates to Diagon Alley to find the elusive snow globe. Neither can the Diagon Alley snow globe be found in any of the shops. After carefully inspecting all the other substitutes from Ethereal Embellishments and Hartigan’s, he decides to buy the snow globe with a snowman and snowwoman hugging each other. At least you might appreciate the cheery, adorable faces of the snowpeople.

As Severus wanders aimlessly around Diagon Alley with his store bags in hand, he ponders over whether to get you something from the surrounding stores. His memory flashes back to the first gift he gave you: a red glimmering potion that released tiny floating animals. Nothing has ever made him nearly as happy as when you threw your arms around him and gushed over it for weeks. Instead of buying other items at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, he resolves to brew something similar to that potion. At least he knows you’ll like it.

Upon his return to Hogwarts, Severus immediately sets up a large cauldron and assembles the required ingredients. Since it’s not an overly complicated potion, he adds extra details to make the gift even more special. Stirring the boiling water and dropping ingredients in as they’re required, he makes the potion sparkle green, gold, and red. After he waves his wand over photographs of you and him, the cauldron releases floating, moving images of the two of you. He smiles as two tiny figures float in the air: you and him standing in front of a zoo enclosure of mooncalves.

He pours the finished potion into a large bottle and mulls over what else he should make using his potion skills. It may be too late to hang new ornaments on the tree, but Severus still decides to make liquid-filled ornaments for the following year. He prepares a potion similar to the one he made earlier, which also glimmers in the cauldron. Then, he transfigures clean potion bottles into the shapes of icicles and eggs and adds tiny, colorful glass pieces to design the eggs. Severus frowns as he inspects his uneven placement of the glass pieces on the eggs, but he hopes the ornaments still look enchanting enough as the potion swirls inside the glass.

Over the next several days, you occupy almost every minute of Severus’s time. As a child, he never built snowmen or lay on the ground and made snow angels. Neither had he been brave enough to challenge the other children to a snowball fight or ride a sled down the small hill near his home. But when you two aren’t relaxing at your cottage or walking hand-in-hand at a Christmas event, you pull him outside and have fun in the snow. A snowman and snowwoman fashioned after the two of you still stand outside your front door, and Severus adjusts their twig arms so they continue to hold hands despite the harsh wind. No matter how many times you ride a sled together, his arms wrapped around your front remain stiff; yet when the two of you roll off the sled after crashing into something, he can’t help but crack a smile. And every evening that the two of you spend together, you walk through an enchanted Christmas wonderland the village of Hogsmeade has set up. Throughout all these festivities, Severus almost forgets how he’s failed in getting all the gifts you want. Almost.

In the middle of the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Severus rushes to retrieve the gifts from Hogwarts and properly package them. With only a candle lighting up the room, Severus hunches over the kitchen table and waves his wand over the wrapping paper. The process of wrapping the Iridescent Ink, notepad, and potion gifts go smoothly. However, he pauses as his eyes roam over the snowpeople globe, temperature-changing pillow, box of tea, and illustrated book. Would it be better to not give you the second-best gifts or not give you a pillow or snow globe at all? Perhaps you would think he didn’t bother to find you everything on your list, so Severus reluctantly wraps up those two things. Along that same train of thought, he covers the box of tea and illustrated book with silver wrapping paper. Before he can overthink the gifts he’s wrapped, he waves his wand and sends them to rest at the foot of the tree.

At precisely eight the next morning, Severus is shaken awake by you. He slowly opens his eyes and sees your eager face and messy morning hair right above him. “Wake up, Sev! Happy Christmas!” you squeal. You kiss him on the lips and scurry out of the room.

Severus yawns and slogs out of bed. When he enters the living room, you run into his arms and kiss him. “When did you put all those gifts under the tree?” you ask excitedly.

“When you were sleeping last night,” Severus says groggily and pulls you close to him. It’s an irrational thought, but he thinks that you might not open up his gifts if he holds you here all day.

You wrap your arms around his neck and gaze adoringly up at him. “You know you’re the best boyfriend, right?”

He feels a twinge in his heart, but he forces a smile onto his face. “Do not flatter me, my love.” You laugh at him and gently push him away before he can hold you closer and prevent you from sitting under the tree.

Severus holds his breath as you sort through the gifts, but then you pull out a package that he doesn’t recognize. You pat the floor next to you and hold the package above your head. “I want you to open all my gifts first.”

He takes the package from you and tenderly runs a hand over the green bow and red wrapping paper adorned with flying hippogriffs. Reluctant to rip away or lazily flick his wand over the wrapping you obviously put effort into, he slowly unties the bow and gently removes the wrapping paper. Inside is a packaged set of books on the Dark Arts, specifically rare volumes that he had expressed interest in several weeks ago. How did you even find these? How did you even remember that he wanted these? Severus looks up and notices the hopeful look in your eyes. He genuinely smiles at you and leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Thank you, my love. You are so very thoughtful.”

“Of course, Sev!” You turn to look for another gift and hand him a package even bigger than the last one. Again, you eagerly watch him as he carefully unwraps the gift. His mouth drops in awe as he uncovers the exquisitely crafted wooden box that serves as a travel potions case. The outside of the box is carved in the design of a tree and when he opens it, his name is engraved on the top section. Jars of potion ingredients are also stored inside the box, ranging from bat spleens to boomslang. You smile shyly at him and say, “I wasn’t very good at Potions, so I don’t know if those ingredients will be useful to you. But I did find a list of ingredients you’re running short of, so I bought those.”

Severus sets the box aside and embraces you. “No, no. This is the most beautiful trunk I have ever set my eyes upon and I am in need of all of those ingredients. You should not have done all of this for me,” he says quietly and his voice even breaks. His heart pounds wildly and his mind swarms with thoughts of how he doesn’t deserve this, how he doesn’t deserve you. You gave him this and the best thing he’s giving you is a silly lovey-dovey potion. Some tears form in his eyes and he quickly blinks them away before you notice them.

“Nope, I would get anything for you, Sev. I’m just afraid that the other gifts aren’t as nice as the last two,” you say as you rub his back. You pull away and summon a small present into your hand. “I know you like practical gifts, so I hope you like this one.”

Underneath the blue bow and icicle-themed wrapping paper, the clear box contains several red rubbers. You laugh as you spot the unintentional look of confusion on Severus’s face. “They’re Flubber Rubbers. I know you can’t usually remove the ink from your students’ essays, but these rubbers actually do remove ink and write encouraging comments in the margins. I thought these would help you stay more positive after Minerva scolded you for being too harsh.”

His cheeks burn and he glares at you, sending you into an even louder laughing fit. “I do not know if I should feel insulted or be grateful, though I suppose I can use these on essays that fall short of atrocious.” Internally, Severus is secretly very grateful that you would try to help him with his work as a professor. He takes in a deep breath and blinks, yet again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. How did he ever manage to make you, an angel, his girlfriend?

Your hands grasp onto a large box with a red and green bow on the top, but then you pull your hand back and pass him another present. “I also got this one from Scrivenshaft’s. I hope you don’t already have this one,” you say a little nervously.

Severus cocks his brow as he unwraps the gift, pondering over what you meant by “I hope you don’t already have this one.” Almost every stationery item he owns is from Scrivenshaft’s since he wants to support the shop you work at, but he doesn’t buy unique stationery items. He mostly purchases black and red ink, basic quills, and journals. Perhaps this is a leatherbound journal?

Severus lifts the lid of the box. Inside is what he assumes is a limited edition Christmas quill. He doesn’t recognize the bird from which the feather was plucked, but the feather has been dyed a deep red and flutters to increase and decrease in size. It’s nice, but he wouldn’t choose Christmas quills over basic ones. Why did you get this? Then, it clicks in his mind. Last week, you spotted him in the limited edition holiday quill section at Scrivenshaft’s. You must have thought that he wanted one of those quills, especially the Festive Featherflame.

His lip trembles and he frowns deeply as he holds the quill in the palm of his hand. You notice everything about him, from the wanting looks at potion ingredients to how he lingers around a particular corner of the Dark Arts section of bookshops for too long. Severus now thinks that he isn’t nearly as observant as you are. What if you clearly wanted something, but he didn’t buy it for you because you didn’t verbally express interest in it? How many items has he now missed out on buying? Out of all the things you’ve given him so far, the item he didn’t necessarily want finally forces the tears out of his eyes. Severus’s shoulders shake and he pinches the quill a little too forcefully in his hands. What an utter failure of a boyfriend he’s been.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, but the concern is loud in your voice. You scoot closer to him and wipe the tears flowing down his cheeks.

“No, it is not that. You notice everything about me and all of these gifts have been incredibly thoughtful,” he sobs. “Meanwhile, I could not even find you all the gifts on your wishlist.” Severus accepts your loving embrace and buries his face in your shoulder even though he knows he doesn’t deserve this.

You pull back and furrow your brow in confusion as you ask, “Wait, what? How do you know I made a wishlist?”

“I found it inside your journal around twelve days ago, I believe,” Severus says shyly and his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I apologize if I invaded your privacy by looking at your journal. Though I swear that it was already open when I looked at its contents.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I was just wondering how you knew since I didn’t tell anyone.” You push a strand of hair behind his ear and kiss his cheek. As more tears pour down his face, you summon a handkerchief from a cabinet and hand it to him. “You really didn’t have to get me any of those things, Sev. I planned on buying all of them when they went on sale tomorrow.”

“But then what would I have given you for Christmas? You have given me so much and I bought gifts that are unworthy of you.” Although your loving touch has slightly calmed him down, his body still shakes and his voice breaks as he speaks.

“Really, you didn’t have to give me any presents. This is corny to say, but having you here for Christmas is all that I wanted. I didn’t ask you for your wishlist nor did I give you my own since I think it’s better to give your loved ones thoughtful gifts rather than ones they’ve been begging for for months.” You pull away from him and sweep your hand over the gifts under the tree. “I was going to have you open all my presents first, but why don’t you let me open the ones you got for me?”

Severus shakes his head and looks down. “I do not want to disappoint you. I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, so I do not want to ruin your day.”

You sigh and cup his face again. “You could never disappoint me or ruin my Christmas, Sev. The fact that you’re even crying about this shows how much you care about me. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and there is nothing that you can say that will convince me otherwise.”

Severus grunts a “fine” under his breath, but he glows internally at what you’ve said. He decides to hand you the present with the notepad first since he doesn’t want to get your hopes up with the potions present or disappoint you with the second-best gifts.

As you carefully remove the wrapping paper like he had, Severus can tell you’re holding yourself back from ripping at it. When you uncover the notepad, your face lights up and you throw your arms around him. “This is why you were at Scrivenshaft’s without me! You’re so sneaky!”

“You nearly caught me multiple times. Then, I nearly had a heart attack when you said hello to me.” He laughs at the memory and runs his hand over your hair.

“Yeah, you looked pretty nervous.” You join him in his laughter and place the notepad on a nearby table. “What’s next?”

“This.” He points out the small box in golden wrapping paper. He realizes that his wrapping, even when he used a spell to do it, isn’t nearly as good as yours. “It is not special, but it was on your list.”

“If it’s from you, then it is special,” you say with a smile. Normally, he would roll his eyes when Dumbledore makes a statement like that. Yet you say things like that, he rolls his eyes and smiles.

You quickly remove the wrapping paper from the Iridescent Ink and you embrace him again. “Thank you, Sev! I’ll use this to write notes when I’m at home. It’s too special to use at work.”

His hands shake as he hands you the pillow and the snow globe at the same time. Although you promised that this wouldn’t ruin your Christmas or that you wouldn’t be upset at him, Severus’s mind always goes to the worst. You reach for the snow globe first and squeeze the wrapping and padding before opening it.

“Ooh, what’s this? It’s probably something fragile by the feel of it,” you comment. When you spot the cute snowman and snowmen waving at you, you squeal. “They’re so cute! That’s us! And they remind me of the snowman and snowmen outside too!” You run up and place your new gift on the table with your snow globe collection. “You know what? This is even better than the Diagon Alley snow globe.” And that makes a genuine, wide grin break out on Severus’s face for the first time that day.

“I am glad. I hope you like the next one as much.” Once it’s free of its covering, you squeeze the temperature-changing pillow and sigh at how it adjusts to your body temperature.

“I’m going to find a way to make this one Severus-temperature on the nights you’re away. But for now, I’m going to put this in the closet so it doesn’t get dirty.”

After you get back, you open the tea box and the illustrated book. You promise to make two cups of that tea right after opening all the gifts, and your eyes light up at the moving illustrations. He tells you about the store clerk assuming that it was for his child, and you bury your face in your hands and laugh.

“I saved the best two for last,” he says quietly and first gives you the potion ornaments. “I made everything myself.”

You unwrap the potion ornaments and your mouth drops in awe. The liquid swirls inside the glass and casts a mesmerizing glow onto the walls and the floor. You immediately wave your wand and hang each icicle and egg ornament on the tree, then tap them to change the color of the potion inside to match the colors on the tree. Severus anxiously watches to see how else you’ll react, but then feels a surge of relief when you turn to him, tears in your eyes. You embrace him for the millionth time that day and kiss him so passionately that he can hardly breathe. “This has to be the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Either this one or the animal potion you gave me several months ago,” you say breathlessly.

Severus cries again and presses his forehead against yours. “That means you will adore the last present I have for you.” You pick up the box right beside you and tenderly open it. You sniff and continue to cry as you uncover the large bottle. Cradling it in your hands, you uncork the cap and are mesmerized by the tiny images of the two of you floating into the air: clinking your drinks at the Three Broomsticks, standing outside a glowing Diagon Alley shop, and wrapping your arms around him as he sits in his Hogwarts office. Your lip trembles and you sob even louder as you stare at the sentimental gift. With steady hands, you carefully place the bottle on the side table and hug him again.

“I keep hugging you, but you deserve something even better tonight,” you whisper suggestively into his ear and laugh gently. Severus blushes and twiddles with his thumbs, trying to ignore the heat rising in other parts of his body.

Every other present Severus opens jerks even more tears from his eyes: a scrapbook with photos of you and him, a vintage book on spells, and a candle set with subtle Christmas scents.

After you both put your presents away, you brew the tea as promised and prepare a light meal. For the rest of the day, Severus helps you cook roast beef, roast potatoes, parsnips, rolls, smoked salmon, Holiday Blancmange, plum pudding, and chocolate cake. He continually fears that he’ll burn something or start a fire, but everything tastes delicious once you two finally sit down and eat. During the evening, you relax by the fireplace and the Christmas tree, sipping hot chocolate and talking for hours. When you two go to bed, well, Severus receives his last present of the day. Although the day isn’t full of sled riding down steep hills and he never expected to burst into tears as you exchanged gifts, Severus deems this the first perfect Christmas he’s had in his life.

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