#small pox and all!

[yrsonpurpose]

What are you doing?

[marlynnofmany]

Since the Ides of March is coming literally next Friday, would it be too crazy of an idea to, writing-wise speaking, dust off the Stabby the Knife Roomba idea and add a little twist to it?

CAESAR THE CASSOWARY ROOMBA!

One robot would have a piece of poultry affixed to it and programmed to run away from other bots, programmed to flock and gangshank it. Maybe with subsequent not-entirely-sanitarily-sound consumption of the cut bits.

(EDIT: Also, part of the reason I chose cassowary was that I thought it would rhyme better in Russian ("цесарка Цезарь"), but it turns out that "цесарка" translates to "guinea fowl" (or "faraona" in Italian, lol), while "cassowary" means "казуар", which is a totally different bird from a different continent entirely (African savannas (probably Guinea) v. Australia & New Guinea, respectively))

Also, a pleasant Women's Day to you!

Fascinating idea! The funny thing is that my first mental picture of a "Cassowary Roomba" is one that would have a very strong chance of fighting back. Cassowaries are danger dinosaur birds.

I'd expect any Roomba themed after a cassowary to be an elite battle machine, possibly meant for stealth attacks on anyone unfamiliar with Earth fauna.

If, on the other hand, you really want to recreate the Ides of March, you could rig up a fleet of Roombas to be steered by pressure, and equip each one with a live chicken.

"Caesar" can be a fake chicken with a target on his back. Chickens are also vicious little dinosaurs who invented the pecking order.

"Et tu, Brut — Augh, my eye!"

[kendallroygf]

in case anybody needed to know getting stoned and then watching barbie makes it worse i think

[antimony-ore]

Recalling how I told my mom ancient alien theories were inherently racist and to watch who she says that around, and she dug her heels in and said well if they were so smart where are they now? Which was just... SO much worse

[science-hoes]

Taste

Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: FILTHY smut, lactation kink, unprotected sex, language, canon typical medical drama, mentions of addiction

Description: Robby is fighting nicotine withdrawals, but the reader has something sweeter to curb the cravings.

Michael Rovinavitch Masterlist

—

Robby sipped on the beer that Donnie had tossed him before leaving the usual post-shift hangout. He used to stay longer, maybe even have two beers, but now he had you and Eliza. That was much more rewarding after a grueling day in the Pitt.

Especially after today. Three kids ended up in his ER following a “chicken pox party.” They had been given aspirin and developed Reye’s syndrome, each being sent to the pediatric ICU after Robby evaluated them. What a surprise that anti-vax parents also didn’t know the contraindications of aspirin. The parents were sent with them, but not without a scathing lecture from the chief attending. The selfishness of those parents refusing to immunize their children bewildered him in general, but now that he had a baby girl waiting at home for him, who didn’t have a full immune system yet, it made his blood boil.

As he walked home, he could smell the intoxicatingly thick smell of cigarettes as he passed by strangers with the vice between their fingers. His eyes nearly rolled back at the aroma, wishing he could relieve his stress with a long drag. Just one, that’s all he would need. But cigarettes were seductive, and he could never have just one. Instead, he reached into the side pocket of his backpack and popped a piece of nicotine gum out of the aluminum packet. Not nearly enough of the drug compared to a cigarette, but it kept him clean.

Robby approached the small but beautiful house you had picked out together just a month ago. Only a few blocks from PTMC, making it an easy walk to and from work. That was the main selling point, along with the somewhat spacious backyard for Eliza to play in as she grew up. He juggled his keys, finding the new house key, and unlocked the door carefully.

“Hey, kid. I’m home.” He called out, but not too loud, just in case the baby was sleeping.

After there was no response, he shut the door quietly behind him. His backpack dropped to the floor, a physical metaphor for the burden that fell off his back the moment he smelled the warm vanilla scent of the candle you had been burning. Even while on maternity leave, you found time to make the new house feel welcoming.

Robby stepped out of his New Balance sneakers and padded across the hardwood floor to the living room. There he saw you on the couch, cradling Eliza in your arms, as she drifted off to sleep. The sight was truly beautiful. He couldn’t hide his smile even if he wanted to.

You looked up to him and smiled. “Hey.” You whispered.

He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose into your shoulder. A heavy exhale left his lungs while he watched his daughter. Eliza’s eyelids fluttered as she dreamed in her mother’s arms.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” Robby mumbled into the fabric of your shirt. His shirt, actually.

You tilted your head slightly until it rested against his. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm.” He murmured.

“Do you want to put Eliza down? Then we can talk about it?” You asked.

That was the routine in the Robinavitch household since Eliza was born three months ago. Robby would come home from his 12 hour shift, but the baby would already be asleep. So, you let him put her down in the crib, always taking a few minutes to absorb her snuggles and kiss her before letting her rest until she woke up in the middle of the night. He would always get her before you could register her cries, just for the chance to see her while she was awake.

Robby sighed heavily and shook his head reluctantly. “No. We had some kids come in today with Reye’s syndrome from chicken pox. I don’t want to touch her right now just in case.” He answered, and you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

You turned your head slightly to press a kiss to his temple. “Okay. Let me put her down then.” You offered.

Robby didn’t answer but let go of your waist. As you slowly made your way to the nursery, he couldn’t help but watch the dancing flame coming from the candle you had lit. Almost taunting him. The same tiny burst of light that used to burn his tobacco for him. He rubbed his eyes to alleviate his thoughts, jaw faithfully chewing the gum that was supposed to be curbing his desire.

You walked back into the room and noticed his distress. “What’s wrong, love?” You asked as you sank in the couch next to him.

Robby’s hands moved from his eyes to scratch his beard. “You know it’s days like this that I really crave a fucking cigarette.” He muttered.

Your hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, fingertips kneading into the wrinkles there. “You don’t want to break your clean streak. Is the gum not helping anymore?” You asked.

He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, indulging in the comforting movements. “I’m going through a pack a day.” He admitted.

“What about Zyns? That’s what Langdon uses.” You suggested.

He huffed and opened his eyes just to roll them. “Yeah, because he’s the poster child for making good drug choices.”

Your eyes narrowed, massaging hands stopped. “Michael.”

Robby scrunched his face at the use of his first name and nodded. “Sorry, that was mean.” He confessed. He held his hands in front of him, watching the way they trembled. “I’ve gotta do something. I’m fucking shaking. I can barely run a simple stitch. This plus the caffeine…it’s getting to be too much.”

After his apology, your nails began to scratch the freshly buzzed hairline at the base of his neck. “Maybe it’s time for one of those nicotine nasal sprays?” You offered.

He just nodded in agreement, leaning back into your touch. He would have fallen asleep right there on the couch like that, with your hand in his hair, but your tiny moans of discomfort pulled him back to reality. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked, sitting up a bit.

You pressed your hands to your chest, pushing against your breasts to relieve some kind of pressure. “I’m gonna have to pump again.” You grunted.

Robby put his hand on your back as you shifted uncomfortably. “How many times today?” He questioned.

“Eight.” You admitted.

His brow furrowed with slight concern. “Eight?”

You nodded. “I’m gonna have to start taking some of the frozen milk to a bank. We don’t have enough room in the freezer for anymore.”

Robby watched you for a moment, gears in that genius brain of his turning, jaw grinding on the nicotine gum. Without a word, he got up and walked to the kitchen. You heard him spit the gum out in the trashcan before he returned. He shrugged of his navy hoodie and tossed it on the ground. He sank onto the couch again, legs sprawling naturally, and patted his thigh.

“Come here.” He ordered.

You watched him with skeptical eyes, but followed his lead as he guided your legs until you straddled him.

“Robby, I need to-“

“I’m gonna handle it.” He cut you off.

Before you could answer, he’d pulled that baggy old shirt of his off your upper body, leaving you in nothing but your pajama shorts and maternity bra. His coarse hands ran across the luxuriously smooth skin of your waist, thumbs brushing against your shriveling stretch marks from pregnancy.

Your cheeks reddened as you realized his intentions. “Oh.” Was all you could say.

His fingers trailed across your skin until they reached behind you, unclasping your bra. The silky straps slid down your shoulders, and you tossed the bra behind you. Robby groaned unconsciously as your breasts dropped to your chest and a smirk played at his lips.

“What immunoglobulin is found in breast milk?” He asked.

Your eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. You grabbed fistfuls of his black scrub top, pulling him forward. “Don’t you dare quiz me right now.” You hissed.

Robby’s smirk turned into a devilish grin, and those brown eyes darkened with blown pupils. “I’m your attending. It’s my job. Plus you have boards coming up soon.” He replied.

Your glare could have sliced through marble, but your husband was a force to be reckoned with. “Breastfeeding isn’t on the board exam.” You grumbled.

He chuckled and winked at you, that fucking charming man. “It could be.” He teased.

Your breathing was becoming labored as the fullness in your chest increased. “Michael Robinavitch, if you do not help me, I will report you to the Board for sharing unauthorized board exam content.” You threatened.

But he knew your threats were empty and driven by madness, and that diabolical grin remained on his face, smile wrinkles deepening around his eyes. He tilted his chin up to where his lips ghosted against yours. “I would answer the question if I were you.”

His fingers began to trace your shoulders, moving down but not close enough. You shoved him back against the couch, his hospital badge clacking against his chest. “IgA.” You finally answered through clenched teeth.

“Good girl.”

Robby’s large, freckled hands moved to your engorged breasts, massaging them gently. The sound that left your throat was animalistic. You grasped his forearms, trying to guide him to what you needed.

“What is the sympathetic innervation of the myoepithelial cells in breast tissue?” His voice was unwavering.

Your face scrunched as the fullness began to become overbearing. “Robby…” You growled.

His thumbs hovered above your aching nipples. “Come on, pretty girl.” He beckoned.

You struggled to sort through your medical education as his hands kneaded into your chest. “T1 through T5.” You responded.

Robby chuckled and moved his lips to your breast, his beard adding a rough sensation. “Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed, beginning to kiss your skin.

His fingers began to tweak your nipples, eliciting a moan of painful pleasure from you. Your hips rocked once against his absentmindedly. “Michael, please.” You begged, grabbing the back of his head to guide him.

Robby paused all of his ministrations to look up at you with those big brown eyes, glistening in the dark. “Last question.” He mumbled against your breasts. “What hormone initiates the let-down reflex?”

Your chest heaved in anticipation, and your grip on the back of his head tightened. “Oxytocin.” You answered like your life fucking depended on it.

He smiled and wrapped his lips around one of your hard nipples. Your mouth dropped open as he suckled gently and kept his fingers on your other breast. His free hand moved to your lower pack, guiding your hips to rock against his. You could feel his hardness teasing against your clothed pussy as you grinded.

Then that familiar pins and needles sensation rushed through your chest. You shuddered as the let down reflex ran its course. Robby hummed against your breast as the first drops of milk graced his suckling tongue. Liquid pearls slowly dribbled down his hand that tweaked at the other nipple. The rush of oxytocin seeped through your whole body, and you finally relaxed in your husband’s embrace.

Your fingers massaged the back of his neck like you had earlier, rewarding him for his assistance. His rapid, small suckles began to turn into longer, deeper pulls as the flow became continuous. Your other breast began to leak freely, a small river of cream streaking down his hairy forearm. He breathed loudly through his nose in between swallows, indulging his new favorite dessert.

“What does it taste like?” You breathed, enamored by the sight before you.

Robby took a long drag at your nipple before sitting up and pressing his mouth against yours without a word, pouring your own nectar onto your tongue, the rest spilling in between your chins. It was sweeter than you expected, and you understood why he hadn’t come up for air in several minutes.

“Jesus, fuck, I’d swallow poison if it tasted like you.” He mumbled against your lips.

You pulled away to look at him. The beads of white meshed into his beard, peppering it further, and his lips were swollen from suction. Your husband had never looked so viscerally attractive. You reached at his waist and hiked up his scrub top, tossing it behind you.

“Can I please ride you?” You asked, desperately chasing your oxytocin high.

Robby chuckled and leaned back against the couch for a moment to shift out of his scrub bottoms and boxers. “Can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” He teased.

You giggled and shimmied out of your pajama shorts that had a wet stain already. Without a moment of hesitation, you sank down on his massive cock, the familiar stretch that still made your back arch. He took advantage and latched onto your nipple again, groaning at your tightness before he began to suck.

You bounced on his hips, adding to the suction patterns he pulled on your breast. He continued to tug at the other nipple, the milk spraying across his bare chest, scratching the itch in your sensory neurons. His thrusts grew stronger, and your release drew closer.

“Robby, I’m gonna-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Robby fisted both of your breasts, squeezed them together, and enveloped both nipples in his mouth. You held back a scream as he swallowed hard around them, determined to get every last drop.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the white hot explosion of your climax shot across your nervous system. Your body went limp, draping your arms around his shoulders. His grunts became more frequent as his hip thrusts faltered at the feeling of your pulsing walls. The only time his mouth let go of your breasts was to grunt as he came. You rocked gently, working him through his orgasm, pulling every last bit of cum he had to offer.

Robby slouched back against the couch, and you enjoyed the view. His soft upper body glistening with sweat and tributaries of milk. His face and ears flushed with exertion. His lips swollen from half an hour of suckling. The pearls of milk still nestled into his beard.

“You’re hot.” You teased, resting your hands on his biceps, tracing his tattoos.

He let out a strangled chuckle as he caught his breath, and a content smile played on his lips. “You keep me young, kid. You know that?” He asked.

You smiled and leaned to give him a sweet, soft kiss on his puffed lips. “Good. We need you around for a long time.” You replied.

Robby lifted his hand to caress your face. “I’m gonna be. Not gonna miss a second.” He assured you.

You raised an eyebrow. “That means no relapsing on cigarettes.” You lectured.

He sighed and nodded. “I know.” He replied, looking down at his forearms that were still streaked with milk. “But I think I found something to distract from the cravings.” He winked at you as he dragged his tongue across his veiny forearm up to his wrist, gathering every last drop.

You couldn’t help but blush through your laugh. Carefully, you lifted off his lap and pulled your pajama shorts back on. You used the old t-shirt that you had been wearing to clean up the mess on your chest and his.

“Hey! That’s my shirt.” Robby complained as you wiped his upper body.

You shook your head. “It’s our shirt.”

He rolled his eyes and hoisted his boxers and scrub pants back on. Just as he was about to make a snarky comment, tiny cries came from the baby monitor that sat on the table next to the couch.

You smiled slightly. “Go see our girl. She’s missed you.” You said.

He hesitated for a moment. “I saw those kids today.” He said.

“You don’t have your scrub top on. Use the hand sanitizer next to the changing table. You’ll be alright, doc.” You replied.

Robby chuckled and headed to the nursery. Within seconds, the crying stopped, and you heard his smooth voice singing a Hebrew lullaby to Eliza. He reentered the living room with your baby girl tucked into his elbow like a football. She was so tiny compared to his large frame. You walked over to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Eliza’s big brown eyes stared at her father’s identical ones.

“Did you have a good day with Mommy?” He cooed.

She reached for the sparkling pendant at his neck, and he held her closer to put it in her grasp. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the Star, pulling it to her mouth.

“She’s gonna start using that to teeth pretty soon.” You mused.

He smiled. “I know. She’s getting so big.”

You felt an unusual ache in your heart. “I know. I hate it.” You admitted.

“I’ll stay up with her a little longer. You get some sleep. You’ve been working hard today.” He offered, pressing a kiss to your head.

You stifled a laugh. “You’re the one who worked a 12 hour shift.” You reminded him.

Robby met your gaze, his eyes shining in the living room glow. “You’re with our daughter all day. Taking care of her. Loving her. Making our new house a home.” He leaned down to kiss you sincerely. “You’re giving me the world, kid. That deserves some rest.”

You hugged your husband tightly, tears stinging your eyes. “Thank you.” You whispered.

“Thank you.” He repeated. “Now, go. I’ve got our girl.” He assured.

You kissed Eliza goodnight before walking to the bedroom. As you neared the room, you heard Robby’s voice carrying through the hallways as he sang his Hebrew lullaby again.

—

A/N: Thank y’all for humoring my pathetic Dr. Robby thoughts. As soon as I came up with this idea, I couldn’t stop writing until it was done. I can’t wait to write some more smut for him.

[clockwayswrites]

One birdritch, two stones.

part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost

“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.

Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”

“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”

“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”

“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”

Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.

“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”

“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”

“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.

Tim tilted his head.

“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.

“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”

“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.

-

The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.

“Hello.”

The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.

Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.

They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.

“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.

They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.

“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.

Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”

“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”

“Explain?”

“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.

Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.

Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.

“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.

“You will come?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”

“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”

“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.

Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.

Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”

Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.

Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.

“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.

“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.

Cass signed Danny’s name sign.

“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.

“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”

Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”

“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”

“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.

Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.

“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.

Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?

-

“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.

“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.

Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.

But that hardly answered any of what was going on.

“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”

Cass nodded and crossed her heart.

Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.

---

AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)

Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Chickenpox

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get the chickenpox

"Is...Is she wearing oven gloves?"

Millie's the one that asks.

It's the question that's been on everyone's mind since your family arrived at training this morning.

You don't look too different than usual.

You're wearing a little pair of shorts - not teams shorts, just generic shorts that Pernille probably bought while out shopping because she thought they would look cute on you. The shorts are paired with a cute little green shirt with an even cuter cartoon frog on it.

That's normal for you.

It's a cute look and if it wasn't for the spots on your face and the weird oven mitt things on your hands, nothing would have looked out of place.

But you are wearing weird oven mitts and there are spots dotted all over your face.

"Huh?" Pernille looks up from where she's tying her laces," Oh, no. Not oven gloves. They're meant to stop her from scratching. She's got chickenpox."

"No! I don't!" You interrupt before Millie can speak, stamping you foot and puffing out your cheeks defiantly.

Pernille rolls her eyes. "Yes, you do."

"I don't!"

"You see what I've been dealing with? She's just as stubborn as Magda sometimes."

Millie chuckles. "That does not surprise me."

You stamp your foot again. "I'm not talking to you! Meanies!"

Pernille chuckles. "Okay, princesse. Have fun."

You huff. Clearly, you didn't expect that reaction but you still turn on your heel and storm off. You don't get very far, both with your little legs and your small attention span.

You end up standing in front of Jessie, arms already up and she lifts you without even thinking about.

"Jessie," You say," Scratch me."

"What?"

Jessie turns to look at you, properly look at you. She'd been moving on auto-pilot before. She hadn't even realised that you were infested with the pox.

"Oh, you don't look so good, princesse."

"I need scratches," You say," Jessie, scratch me please."

For a moment, it looks like Jessie's going to do as you say. That's why you chose her after all, you knew she would be the most likely to cave to your demands.

For a moment, you're allowed to hope.

But then the unthinkable happens.

Magda appears.

Magda appears and she plucks you from Jessie's arms and takes you away.

You go limp instantly, hoping to make her see you as completely dead weight. You hope she'll put you down but Magda's wise to your tricks now and she holds on tight.

Then you pull out the second trick in your arsenal.

You whine and you cry and you kick and you scream.

The Not-Wolfsburg girls have the decency to vacate the locker room very quickly so it's just you, Morsa and Momma.

"No! Itchy! Itchy!" You insist as Magda holds you despite your flailing.

"Well, if you're itchy, we've got your lotion."

"Noooo! No lotion! No!"

But Pernille's already reaching into her bag for your calamine lotion and some cotton balls.

"Momma, no! No, Momma!"

"I thought you were itchy?" Pernille teases," We'll put on some lotion and there'll be no more itchiness for a little while."

You answer by shrieking and trying to escape Magda's grasp. She holds strong though.

"I know you don't want your lotion," Magda says, calm and collected like she always is," But it'll make you feel better. It's lotion or your medicine. You can choose but you need to choose one."

Your bottom lip quivers as you tilt your head back to look at her.

"Don't give me those crocodile tears, princesse," She warns," I don't care if you're sick, if you continue like this then it's the naughty step when you get home."

You huff dramatically, mumbling something under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Lotion...My lotion, please. No medicine."

Magda and Pernille exchange a smile as Pernille dabs the lotion onto a cotton ball and Magda sets you down onto your feet.

You glance over at the door, wondering if you could bolt out of it as quickly as your little legs will carry you.

But you don't because Magda fixes you with a pointed look and you shuffle glumly over to Pernille, who helps you take your top off and dabs the lotion all over your itchy patches.

You don't want to admit that it helps so you keep your mouth shut as Pernille helps you back into your shirt and Magda retightens your mittens so you can't scratch when you get itchy again.

You kick at the bench in frustration.

"When is it over?"

"Your chickenpox? It'll be over when it's over."

"That's not an answer, Morsa."

Pernille chuckles as she swings you up into her arms and carries you out of the locker room.

"Another week or two, princesse," She says," Just another week or two."

You groan, dramatically resting your forehead on her shoulder. "But that's ages."

"Plenty of time for you to get used to your lotion."

[vampsol]

MISS AMERICANA | 박성훈

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 (𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐖𝐄'𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍)

⟢ PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 9.8K ⟢ GENRE: angst with a happy ending, smut ⟢ TAGS: basketballplayer!sunghoon, cheerleader!reader, college au, lovers to exes to lovers, pet names (baby, doll, etc), fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? -ˋˏ✄┈┈ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This second chapter (as well as the first) has been rewritten to be set in a university rather than the high school setting for obvious reasons. I apologize for not writing it this way originally, and I hope the rewritten version is just as enjoyable as the original was ♥︎.

𝑫𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹

Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard Sunghoon’s university had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, he could do it all and then some.

If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.

Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. Despite the cramped space in the driver's seat, you managed to fit on Sunghoon's lap and straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you gave him copious reminders of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship. 

Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.

“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.

“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.

“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look into his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”

“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”

“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”

“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.

“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”

“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.

You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?

“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.

“What are you doing now?”

“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your sorority house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.

You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”

“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”

He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.

You shut your laptop closed with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the classroom. Your professor has his attention on Candy Crush rather than the impending gossip of the surrounding strangers. They flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.

“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.

“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking out the classroom door, already done with your work for the day and nobody who cares actually bothered you’re leaving.

As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it ended. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.

To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.

Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.

And you definitely deserve better than that.

“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.

“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.

What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.

Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?

Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.

You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.

Or so you thought.

Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team, smiles at you when you look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”

You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”

Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”

His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”

Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”

You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”

“Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”

“And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”

“Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists��.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?

You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”

You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”

Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future overall could still be pretty great.

𝑱𝑨𝑵𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀

Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas. 

He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wouldn’t grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by with no communication.

Sunghoon is walking with Jay to the gym when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the meathead for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.

“Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—”

“I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.

“You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”

The notification bell for Sunghoon’s next class rings, and Jay says his goodbyes as he heads inside the gym. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.

Writing memos for each professor in the Religious Studies department proves to be difficult when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. She may be a great cheerleader, but a distracting person to do a work-study program with. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.

“When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notepad.

“We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”

“Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”

The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen by Professor Sung, the head of the department, in his office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head towards Sung’s door some paces away.

When you make it to the room, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against Sung’s desk, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.

“Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.

“His TA owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. “Besides, I wanted to see you.”

 Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.

“Well I want to get this work done, so if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the door in front of you.

“Sunghoon, this is not—“

“Please, just hear me out.”

You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.

You know you’re the only one I want.

“You know you’re the only one I want.”

My intention is never to fight with you.

“My intention is never to fight with you.”

All I want is to work this out, please.

“All I want is to work this out, please.”

You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.

“Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.

Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”

“Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.

That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.

“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.

“You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” Clearing your throat does you no good; you cannot conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”

“Of course I love you!”

“Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.

His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.

“That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.

The Gamma Nu Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners courtesy of the sorority. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the university’s social media accounts.

It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.

Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that meathead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?

Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help. The fraternity Jake belonged to sported a “DUDES ONLY” sign on their door. Why did Heeseung’s girlfriend have to be around?

Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.

The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.

“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field. 

Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”

Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.

“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.

His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”

Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.

She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”

Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.

Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.

He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?

In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.

The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.

He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t look. He’s too tired to turn his head. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”

The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.

“I came to apologize to you.”

Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He avoids prolonging the argument altogether and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”

He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”

She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, and a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.

She grins, the same feelings clear in her expression. “Apology accepted.”

Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.

𝑭𝑬𝑩𝑹𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀

“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your car. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”

“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.

“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks in the passenger seat.

“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”

You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the student body with your impeccable charm.”

“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”

As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your glove-box. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are of no consequence, but one makes you stop cold. 

Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.

“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.

“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.

“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves stray hairs away from your face, smiling ear to ear.

“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”

“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.

“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.

As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.

You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.

“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.

“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Just let me know later if you find it somewhere. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.

Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the student food court, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone, like you, looks towards the sounds.

The football team, all huddled up, begins chanting once you make it closer to the main tables.

“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them chant too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet and a huge grin.

The team stops as soon as he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”

You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face despite your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?

“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak. It seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.

But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops into your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?

Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car, just underneath your driver’s seat where you didn’t think to look. The mystery of how it ended up there remained, but hopefully, she wouldn't freak out any longer about the charity auction next week.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, the university allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year was for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand dollars, but you wish you could do more for them besides a fundraiser. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.

While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession, the better.

Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. Some of your sorority sisters pass by without even a glare in his direction, icing him out for your sake. He doesn’t mind their fleeting presence. He keeps his expression, an amalgamation of disbelief and sorrow, trained on you.

Before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.

But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”

“You’re dating him now?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.

No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”

You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”

Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”

“I just told you–”

“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”

Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. The smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. Knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.

“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.

It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.

Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?

But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you risk the cycle repeating for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?

You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend. “I can’t do this.”

He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.

Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.

An enormous banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the theater department’s auditorium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.

Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air, holding a cluster of colorful streamers dangling in her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”

“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet as you talk.

“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Dean Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while the dean holds a thin piece of paper.

The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. “Great turn of events ladies,” Dean Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”

“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs it off.

“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. The clipboard places an indent on your collarbone from how tight you press it against yourself, your anxiety spiking. You put your whole heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?

“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”

A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung catches it before it clatters onto the gym floor.

“Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.

“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Dean Han says.

“Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”

“No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.

You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.

For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.

𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯

On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.

Wonyoung was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. She had already finished her own outfit and makeup, so she decided to help you, too. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.

”You’re a vision, babe,” your best friend says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.

You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.

You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your sorority’s front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.

“Chan should be here any minute,” Wonyoung says, interrupting your thoughts.

You respond with a nod and a small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.

Wonyoung frowns. “What’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concern and warmth, atypical behavior for her but still welcoming.

“Do you think people can change?”

She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone wants to, I think they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”

The doorbell rings, and she hugs you from behind. “I’ll let you get that. I gotta find my bracelet!”

You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.

Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.

“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.

Without a second thought, you nod.

Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug. 

The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he remembered the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the fall semester.” He laughs, the sound hollow.

“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.

Thank you for the flowers. For going above and beyond with that check. For showing you’re trying.

The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the sunset's light. “It’s the least I could do.”

Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath intermingling. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.

Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.

Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”

As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.

Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing  an uptempo number. Thankfully, you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In an auditorium filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.

He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.

Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”

Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”

Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”

Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from the meathead over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”

“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”

Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.

A plethora of unspoken feelings swirl in your eyes, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.

Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.

“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.

“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.

“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.

“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”

You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.

The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.

Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.

In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”

“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”

The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.

Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” you whisper.

Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?

He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.

“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”

Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”

The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.

Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.

You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.

With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”

Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.

Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.

Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his apartment, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.

The space is quiet, his roommate off somewhere and giving you both the privacy you’ve been longing for. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.

You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”

“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.

You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”

The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and Sunghoon peppers your entire face with kisses after he takes a deep breath. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.

You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.

“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.

You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you on the couch to wait.

Twenty minutes later, you’re twiddling with your thumbs when Sunghoon comes back out.

“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.

Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.

Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.

When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.

Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”

You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”

“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”

“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.

“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath. 

He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on  undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.

You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”

“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.

“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”

He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.

“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.

“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.

You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.

Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.

He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.

He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.

The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.

How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.

Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.

You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.

And with no regrets in your mind or heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”

People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In  the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @frenchkisstheabyss @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @lovetaroandtaemin @joocomics @fancypeacepersona

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ── .✦ @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @pirateeznet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺 𝒐𝒓 𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑺 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖢𝖧𝖶𝖤; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[screechingdefendorpuppy-blog]

Chicken Pox

“SEVIKA!” You shout, arms crossed and anger present not just in your voice but your face as well.

Sevika freezes then closes her eyes at being caught red handed. Slowly she looks down at Isha, her big golden eyes look back at her.

“You were to keep an eye out.” She whispers as you stomp over towards her. Isha just shrugs and takes off out of the room. “Traitor!” Sevika shouts after her as you finish closing the distance.

You snatch the hanger she had in her hand. It had been a long two days. A week ago Isha had come home from school with a fever of 101, fatigue, and worst of all the unmistakable rash covering her little body. You had felt for the girl, you had gotten the chicken pox at 8 years old and still remember how miserable you had been.

Sevika had fussed over Isha she wanted to do everything she could to help her adoptive daughter. The problem?

Sevika had never had the chicken pox before. When she had mentioned this small very important detail you knew that it was about to be the most challenging next few days for you.

It didn’t take long for Sevika to show symptoms and not long after the rash made its appearance. You now had your hands full to playing the role of caretaker.

During that first day you learned that Sevika is the absolute worst fucking patient ever. Isha? Perfect little angel. Taking her meds with no fuss, holds still as you apply the anti-itch cream on her. Best of all though, she is great at not scratching at the lil bumps littering her skin.

Sevika? Well she has reverted back to her two year old self. She absolutely does not cooperate. Refuses to take her meds in a timely matter. Throw little tantrums at every inconvenience she comes across. Huffs and puffs as you try to apply the cream as she squirms and moves away. And of course she scratches at every single inch she can reach non-stop. That being the very reason you find yourself here.

“You know you are not supposed to scratching Sev. It will scar the skin.” You tell her as you throw it far away from her.

“Ugh but baby, it itches!” She whines as her hand subconsciously scratches at her cheek. You grab her arm and stop her.

“It will continue to itch even more if you scratch them. Why can’t you be like Isha? She doesn’t scratch.”

“There is no way this rash doesn’t bother her! Im sure she scratches when you aren’t looking.” she argues, fully aware that she is completely wrong. That kid had some serious self control, Sevika not so much.

You exhale, raising your hands and joining them in front of your face. You look at her once more only to find her scratching at her shoulder where her mech arm usually was.

You stop her again, softly this time and say “you leave me no choice my love”

A confused look shows up on her face.

————————

'This is fucking humiliating' Sevika thinks to herself as she stays, for the first time, completely still as you finish taping the oven mitt to her hand.

Isha watches as you cut the tape with your teeth and make sure the mitt is secure.

“There now you wont be able to scratch no matter how much you try.” You announced tossing the tape on the kitchen table.

Sevika lifts her hand and inspects your work. To be completely honest she doesn’t believe this will work at all. However if it makes you happy that she wears this she will and she will scratch her itch away without you fussing.

Speaking of she starts reaching for the itch that was been driving her crazy in the back of her neck. To her surprise you don’t try to stop her, in-fact you just watch her right alongside Isha. She stop her smirk from appearing as she goes to finally kill the itch. And..

Nothing.

She frowns pulls her hand in front of her, looks at it, then goes back to try and scratch. Again nothing.

“Are you serious!?” She asks incredulously and looks up to you big frown on her face. She keeps trying to scratch at the bumps but the mitts continue to do their job of stopping her. Isha smiles looking from the mitt to you amusement present in her eyes.

You have a big smirk on your lips. “My work here is done.” You say as you walk over to the fridge to start on dinner.

"This is a hate crime!" she shouts "As a matter of fact, it's two hate crimes! Towards the disabled and the sick! Only a heartless person would do something like this."

"Then call me The Evil Queen darling, because that mitt wont be coming off any time soon." You answer back from the kitchen.

Sevika Huffs and shakes her hand in a futile attempt to slipping the mitt off. She makes eye contact with Isha, looks towards the kitchen then leans in to whisper to her.

"Hey Ish"

"Isha, Sweetie would you help me make dinner? I'll let you lick the spoon after we finish the cake batter for dessert." you call from the kitchen.

Both of them look at your direction then at each other. Isha gives her a look that clearly states 'Sorry' and starts towards your direction.

"No Isha.. Isha honey please. Don't leave me like this." Sevika begs after her to no avail. Finding herself alone in the living room she groans and sinks in to the sofa defeated frowning at the mitt.

---------

You finish up dinner and call out to your girls that dinner is served. Not long after you hear Isha's foot falls as she appears.

"Have you washed up little one? you ask her and she nods in the affirmative as she crosses over to her side of the table. Once she sits, you smile at her as you place her plate of food in front of her.

Ruffling her a hair a bit to turn once more towards the stove to start on Sevika's plate. You are yet to hear her stomp her way to you, making you frown in confusion. Walking over to the table you place her plate where she usually sits.

"Sev?" you call out "Dinner's ready."

No answer, in fact its quiet.. a little too quiet. Telling Isha you would be back you head in the direction of your shared room.

"Sev?" you say as you open the bedroom door finding the room dark. 'What the hell?' you think to yourself as you turn the light on, empty. You start turning to head down the hall way when something catches your eye. Walking over to her side of the bed you find a small piece of fabric. Picking it up to inspect it you recognize the color. It is the same shade as one of your oven mitts, one oven mitt that earlier you had tape on to your wife's hand.

"Sevika! You had better not have done what I think you did!" you shout ready to check the whole apartment for her. However, you didn't have to move much at all. Because the second you turn on your heel you see it. The unmistakable view of a piece of cotton, a piece of cotton laying right in front of the bedroom closet.

You walk over slowly towards it and stay silent. you are able to faintly hear her trying to stay as quiet as a mouse. Yanking the door open you find her.

There sits Sevika, legs poking out of your clothes her torso hidden behind them. At her feet? her mech arm covered in the now shredded oven mitt. She doesn't move an inch, she knows she had been caught and now she will be at the receiving end of your fury.

You grab a hold of the hangers and sliding apart where you are faced with a puppy eyed sheepish looking Sevika, trying her damn hardest to charm you.

Without saying a word you turn and walk away. Sevika knowing that you expected it, got up and followed.

----------

"This is humiliating." murmurs Sevika as she opens her mouth obediently so Isha can feed her, her dinner. You don't answer as you continue to eat in silence.

Sevika just sits there, covered in small dots of anti-itching cream all over her body and face. Her hand in your last remaining oven mitt with double the tape. Her mech-arm confiscated until further noticed or at the very least till her rash went away.

Dinner is a silent event that night only sounds coming from Isha blowing raspberries in an attempt to sound like a helicopter as she goes to give Sevika another spoonful of food.

[drcomttheo]

MATTHEO RIDDLE x YN

summary: Mattheo is sick and is overdramatic warnings: Fluff, established relationship, pregnancy words: 1597 a/n: Rework of my Anidala oneshot "Man Flu" Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3

𝖲𝖨𝖢𝖪

It had been a particularly long night for you, who found yourself awake through the hours, devotedly caring for Mattheo as he battled his “Dragon Pox,” a condition more commonly known as “man flu.”

Despite the heavy burden of fatigue, you stood by Mattheo's side, your heart filled with devotion as you meticulously administered his medications. With gentle hands, you wiped his brow, your touch soft and soothing, while he lay there, his body trembling with powerful sneezes and soft moans of distress.

However, as time went on, you reached a point where you could no longer bear the circumstances.  His relentless monologues of self-pity, lamenting his perceived suffering and declaring himself  “dying,” gnawed at your composure, and you fought to uphold a facade of patience and empathy.

You struggled to understand how a simple cold could basically incapacitate someone. Nevertheless, you devoted yourself to his care, providing warm beverages and soothing words, all the while internally rolling your eyes at his dramatic expressions of suffering.

“Mattheo!”

Mattheo let out a low groan, his eyelids fluttering as he shifted his gaze to you. "Yes, my love?”

 Your gaze sharpened, your exasperation with his theatrical antics almost consuming you. "Mattheo, you're acting like a child. You're suffering from a cold; it's not a serious illness."

Mattheo winced, his hand soaring to his chest in a dramatic flourish, "But this is different, my love. This is the worst sickness ever. I can hardly breathe; I feel like I'm dying!"

"Jinky! Check Mattheo! Please tell me what his diagnosis is," you exclaimed with a flourish.

Jinky, the ever-dutiful house-elf, hurried into the room, his small exterior strutting in.

“Certainly, missus. Allow me to assess Master Mattheo's state."

Jinky, the best nurse elf, began to meticulously work on Mattheo, assessing his vital signs and symptoms with precision.

After a brief pause, he shifted his gaze to you and remarked, "Jinky thinks that Master Mattheo's condition is not grave. He just has a common cold, and it poses no threat to his life."

Mattheo's expression darkened at Jinky's revelation. He had yearned for a diagnosis of greater gravity, one that would warrant the indulgence and care of you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you looked at Mattheo's disheveled face.

“See, my love? It's just a cold. Nothing serious. Now stop being such a baby and behave like the powerful Death Eater you claim to be."

Mattheo's face contorted in a dramatic grimace.

"But I feel terri-ibleee. I can barely move! I need more..." he murmured, raising his cup with a glint of longing in his eyes.

Your eyes fluttered in exasperation, a storm of irritation brewing within you as you struggled to contain your rising frustration.

You let out a soft sigh, your gaze lingering on him. "Mattheo, you've already had three cups…” With a soft sigh, you settled beside Mattheo, your fingers gently tracing the curve of your belly, a silent testament to the life growing within you. 

Mattheo, his attention caught by the subtle gesture, abruptly broke free from the confines of his theatrical pretense.

He sat up slightly, genuine concern flashing in his eyes. "My love... Is the baby alright? Is yours a problem?"

Your irritation faded like a distant memory, giving way to a tender smile as you sensed the delicate flutter of life blossoming within you.

"No, Matty. The baby is fine. Just moving around a bit."

Mattheo's eyes shimmered with a tender light as he extended his hand, resting it gently on your belly, his fingertips brushing against the soft curve as he sensed the delicate fluttering beneath your  skin.

At that moment, a wave of clarity swept over him, unveiling the profound truth underlying your fatigue.

A pang of guilt stirred within him, a reminder of how lost he had been in his trivial struggles, oblivious to the weight you carried.

"I’m truly sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice laced with genuine emotion. "I've been so focused on myself, I didn't stop to consider how hard this pregnancy is on you."

"It's alright, Matty," you reassured him, your voice soft yet firm. "I just need to rest for a moment." Mattheo nodded, his expression a delicate dance of remorse and admiration, as if caught in the throes of a bittersweet memory that lingered in the air between you.

In the quiet of the moment, a tender squeeze of his fingers around yours conveyed a message. "Of course, my love. You need to rest. I'll take care of things for you. Get some sleep."

You reclined against the plush pillows, a soft, weary smile gracing your lips as you surrendered to the moment.

As you closed your eyes, a gentle wave of relief washed over you, the burdens of fatigue gradually dissipating into a dream.

Mattheo stood watch, his thoughts wandering from his insignificant concerns to center entirely on you, the one he adored, and the precious life you had created together.

~~~

Hours later, you awakened from your dreams, your eyes fluttering open with a hint of drowsiness as shadows waltzed gently across the walls and a serene stillness wrapped around the space.

A wave of disorientation enveloped you, slowly giving way to the familiar contours of your surroundings as you began to piece together the fragments of your reality. You glanced across the room, and a flicker of surprise crossed your features as you realized that several hours had slipped away since you last surrendered to sleep.

As you stirred awake, confusion wove itself into the delicate fabric of your thoughts, your brows furrowing in a silent dance of uncertainty.

You sat up, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you like a soft, familiar blanket.

Where was Mattheo?

With a gentle grace, you slipped from the bed, your movements measured and intentional, as if you sought to reclaim your sense of self within the serene embrace of the moment.

With each silent step upon the cool stone floor, your unease deepened, wrapping around you like a shroud.

The absence of Mattheo's presence created an emptiness that lingered in the stillness of the air around.

Where could he have gone?

You were experiencing a flood of different situations in your head, which caused your thoughts to spiral with worry.

Your sense of dread increased with each step you took until you eventually recognized a figure standing on your balcony. 

Mattheo lingered at the precipice, his figure a dark silhouette against the vast expanse of the night sky, while the distant glow of the stars wove a mesmerizing tapestry in the background.

Your heart hammered within your chest as you approached him, your footsteps delicate and cautious. You lingered beside him, your voice a delicate blend of concern and intrigue, as if the very air between you crackled with unspoken questions.

"Mattheo," you whispered, your fingers delicately finding your place on his shoulder, "I've been looking for you."

The gentle caress of your hand upon his shoulder ignited a surge of consciousness that coursed through Mattheo's very essence.

Startled, he turned, his face a mask of surprise quickly obscured by a sheepish smile.

"Ah, my love," he whispered, a hint of remorse lacing his words. "You were asleep, and I didn't want to disturb you…anymore. I just needed some fresh air."

"You're feeling better then, Matty?"

Mattheo inclined his head, his eyes drifting to the calming expanse of the forest that lay ahead. "Yes, my love. The crisp air worked its magic on me.”

Your gaze lingered on his features, meticulously examining you for any traces of unease or fatigue that might linger beneath the surface. Your hand gently slipped into his.

“Mattheo,” you began softly, your voice laced with a blend of worry and warmth. "You know you don't have to pretend, right? I know you tend to be a bit”…

He let out a soft chuckle, a glimmer of self-awareness dancing in his eyes. "Oh, you mean dramatic?"

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your gaze. "Let's say theatrical... when it comes to sickness. You tend to exaggerate a bit."

Mattheo pretended to be wounded, dramatically placing a hand over his heart in a display of feigned indignation. "Exaggerate? Me? Never!" he protested, a playful smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, a melodic sound that danced in the air, before a gentle sigh escaped your lips as you drew nearer to him.

Mattheo's arm encircled your waist, pulling you gently against him, your connection deepening in the quiet moment you shared.

He took a deep breath, relishing the serene stillness that enveloped you, the crisp night air wrapping around you like a gentle embrace, and the warmth of your presence pressed against him.

"You don't have to pretend to be sick to get my attention."

Mattheo's eyes returned to yours, a warmth blooming in his expression.

"I know," he confessed softly, his fingers delicately weaving a calming rhythm against your waist. "I just... I enjoy being pampered by you, Y/N."

In that fleeting moment, his voice trembled with a hint of vulnerability, revealing a rare glimpse of unfiltered honesty that surprised you.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a soft smile illuminating your face. With a delicate grace, you reached out, your fingers softly sweeping a wayward strand of hair from his forehead.

"Mattheo," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm in the tense air, "there's no need for you to pretend to be unwell to capture my gaze. You always have it, no matter what."

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl)

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,185

Chapter 2

AO3 Link

The chill fights to work its way through me as I dress quickly. Mint blouse, forest green skirt, and olive apron are donned and tightened before the chill can catch me. I curse Esmet, the head butler for not having gotten the heating fixed by now, the cold of the winter month creeping in and savaging the servants' quarters of the Royal Palace like a fatal disease. I'd be happy as soon as I got into the Wizard's quarters, busying about with the other green bees in keeping the apartments in tip shape. There were several old hearths that had remained there through renovations that could have roaring and crackling fires set to them if needed. Until recently, they had been used solely for decorations.

I strip off the socks that I wore to bed and replace them with a new clean pair that was thick and wooly, and of course dyed green. Emily is still sleeping under the thick duvet when I shake her awake.

"Up, up, sleepy head," I say.

Emily grumbles and pulls the duvet around her tighter now that I'm not under it. She had her own bed, but the staff had taken to sharing beds to provide enough comfort to fall asleep as the sun sank the temperature in the palace with it. I can't blame her for wanting to keep warm, but it was better to rip the bandage off and go start the fire than to wallow in the misery. I cross the shared bedroom to her small little cube of a nightstand and pull her uniform out, throwing it on her sleep-wrinkled face. She flinches, but I'm already lacing up my boots.

"You're going to miss breakfast like yesterday if you don't get up and do your chores," I say. That causes her to wake up. All staff were required to complete their basic morning chores if they wanted to be fed. Emily had overslept yesterday and hadn't seen food until lunch.

I leave Emily to it, not wanting to miss out on my own breakfast. Quickly, I take the old wooden stairs up the servants' way to the Wizard's apartments. They hadn't seen fit to replace those with green marble yet, so they remained creaking from their decades of use. Esmet had already set the first fire in the hearth nearby the door, and for that I hate him a little less. I grab mint sheets from a linen closet and head to the main bedroom.

The Wizard had already risen. This was a little-known fact, one that we in his service had been sworn to secrecy. Nobody was supposed to know that the Great Oracle has needs like any other ordinary man, but looking past the need for sheets and warm baths drawn, he is still as wonderful as the day he came to Oz. Esmet had explained it to me when I was finally trusted to be put into his personal service. It was a privilege to serve him in such close proximity, that those who were unworthy became sick from the good that seeped from him and infected everything that he touched. It was also for his protection that most did not know who he truly was.

I lower my eyes when I knock before entering his room. In the first few weeks in his service, I had been terrified that I would catch some hideous illness that would make me break out in a pox exposing my badness to the world, but it never came. Still, I did not chance it, trying to make sure that I never caught sight of him in case the effects took direct contact to show up.

His room smells sweet with incense and a hint of tobacco. I look up briefly before raising my eyes, making sure the coast is clear. Satisfied that he is not present, I set the clean sheets on the emerald velvet bench at the end of the bed and work at stripping yesterday's sheets off of it. They're much softer than ours, the cotton only the highest quality that can be imported from Munchkinland. I think about the rough sheets that I had left Emily sleeping in back in our cold room.

The door creaks open and I hear her voice. "I'm going downstairs for wood," she says. "We're all out up here. Esmet must have used it all."

I go back to stripping the pillowcases, throwing the old linens into a nearby hamper. At least she's up, I think. Once I have the entire bed bare, I turn back to grab the new sheets, only to be met with the sight of him.

Given my fear, I had never actually seen him in person, but I knew what he looked like. His portrait was hung up in various places around the apartment. One painting that I had quite fancied hung in the dining room. In it, he was sat rather crooked in a chair of gold with green upholstery, a man with gray hair coifed in sweeps and a mustache and goatee to match, his hand lazily resting on the head of a tiger that had been posed next to him. I had always admired his bravery, wondering if he was ever for a second scared when posing for the painting. Seeing him now, any bravery that I had immediately fled from me as I cast my eyes back to the floor, giving an apologetic curtsy.

"Your Wonderfulness," I say, moving off towards the laundry basket, out of his way.

"You haven't happened to see my cufflinks?" he asks. I watch as his green wingtips walk into the room right up to the nightstand next to me.

"No, Your Wonderfulness," I say, trying to still the frog that is hopping in my throat. Why is he talking to me!?

"Could you help me look then?" he says. "They're... well they're green with a little..." he searches for the word. "A little gold flower on them."

I immediately go to searching, looking on the dresser. If I were a pair of cufflinks, where would I be? There are so many fine things laid out on his dresser: a golden hairbrush and mirror set, a snuffbox decorated with emerald and gold beetles, a green satin ribbon. No cufflinks.

"I swear I had them this morning," he says. "Should've had him put them on... Any luck over there?"

I turn to face him, eyes still on the floor. "No, Your Wonderfulness," I say.

"Is there something wrong with my face?" he says. It felt like I had swallowed a peach pit of embarrassment, my cheeks pinkening even more than the cold had roughed them up. I can’t find the words to respond to him, biting my tongue in fear that it may also offend him

"Do me a favor and look me in the eye," he says. "It's weird talking to the top of someone's head, no matter how pretty her braids are."

The compliment makes me want to dive into the basket of dirty laundry, never to be seen again, but I raise my eyes to look at him. This is the first day I have ever spoken with him, and somehow in all of his wonderfulness, he finds it fitting to compliment me. He is just like his portraits, but maybe with a few extra wrinkles around the eyes, the pepper that had generously seasoned his hair reduced to a dash. It can't be helped as those paintings must have been several years old. He smiles and again I fight the urge to bury myself in the hamper.

"Such pretty eyes," he says, crossing the room towards me. My heart beats quickly against my breastbone. Somehow this feels wrong, like I'll get in trouble with Esmet if he walks into the room. I remember Emily, who had gone down to get firewood for the hearth in the bedroom and my lips quiver to form words.

"Do you think they might be in the dresser?" I ask. It's sinful, but I don't want her seeing me with the Wizard. She could be a cruel tease when she wanted to be. I had avoided it for the most part, but the poor Munchkin boy that she had bullied when we'd first come to the palace eventually had to be relocated to the kitchen staff with the way he wept at night in the shared bedroom. Who knows what kind of rumors she might spread if she thought I had looked too swooned by him.

"I suppose," he drawls, making a survey of the top of his gilded dresser, humming in thought. His fingers snatch the ribbon between the middle and index and snap it sharply before holding it up to the sunlight. Satisfied with the assessment, he takes it and wraps it around and ties it into a bow amongst the two braids that wrap the crown of my head. "It looks better on you. Got it as a gift from an ambassador and I hadn't a clue what to do with it."

I go to thank him, but he holds a finger up in the air as if remembering something. Pushing his hand into his pocket, he produces two cufflinks: green, just like he said, with little golden flowers on them.

"Would you mind helping me with them?" he asks. I hadn't put on someone's cufflinks since I was 10 – my father's before he had passed away – but I figure that it can't be much different. I remember Emily once more and quickly guide the metal through the starched cotton, trying not to think too much about how I had gone from never seeing the most powerful man in Oz to dressing him in a matter of minutes.

He gives the sleeves a shake, and satisfied with their solidity, squeezes my cheeks with a tsk of the tongue. "There's a good girl," he says.

As quick as he'd entered the room, he left, leaving me with more than a hundred butterflies in my stomach and sweating palms. I head back to the dirty laundry and wipe off my palms on the sheets. There is a rattling of wood on metal and I know that Emily is back with a bucket full of wood. I hurry to the sheets, realizing that they are still not on the bed, just as they had been when Emily had left.

She enters the room as I'm stretching the second corner of the fitted sheet."What a nightmare that was," she says. "Those idiots in receiving hadn't opened up the wood shipment from last night so I had to wait there for them to cut it open. Here's hoping I still get breakfast." She sets the pail down with a clank, quickly chucking rough-hewn blocks of wood and logs onto the metal grate. "What's taking you so long with that bed?"

I sweep over to the other side, my crinoline rustling under my skirt. "There was a hole in the sheet," I lie. She didn't need to know all about how the Wizard had asked me to help him look for his cufflinks and about me helping him to get dressed afterward. I close my eyes as I pull the last corner of the sheet over the mattress and I can still smell the warmth of his cologne from that moment. It reminds me of the rolls that we get for Lurlinemas, with their cloves poking out of the shiny egg-washed crusts.

"I didn't see you with that ribbon earlier this morning," Emily says, pulling a box of matches from the mantle. "It's pretty. Did you get it in town?"

My eyes go wide as I realize that I still have the ribbon fastened around my head. "Oh," I stutter. I wasn't used to making up so many lies this early in the morning. "It's just some old thing I picked up this summer at the markets."

Emily gets a good strike and soon the fire is crackling quickly into a roar. "Well it looks good," she says. "Maybe we could go into town later this week. I need to get some gifts for Lurlinemas."

I was a little surprised that she was considering gifts, considering the price of everything had been crazy lately. Our meals and housing were complimentary with working in the palace, but any kind of extra clothing or goods besides the uniform that was provided at the start of each year was strictly up to each servant. The last time I had been in the markets I'd gawked at the price of 79 pennies for new laces for my boots. I consider objecting to the potential spending spree but hold my tongue. She's been asking too many questions. "Maybe we could go on Saturday?" I say.

Emily agrees to that, and we pass the rest of our day finishing our chores at a leisurely pace to soak up as much warmth as possible, talking of things we want to go do and see in the markets, away from the cold of the palace.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie decided to pull out all the stops to ask Steve out. He borrowed heavily from the Labyrinth, including making himself an outfit and affectionately 'kidnapping' Dustin with a scavenger hunt for Steve to follow. . .

"I'm not doing it, Robin," Steve said, slouching back against his couch and crossing his arms. "I'm not playing his games. If he wants to ask me out, he can come to me."

"Yeah, sure, but what about Dustin?" Robin asked.

"Eddie's not going to hurt him," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but he might pump him full of sugar," Robin pointed out.

"Goddamnit. . .okay, show me the first clue," Steve said, and Robin handed it to him.

"Green, green envelopes the man and hugs him tight as much as I wish I can. Given to him by the pox ridden sloth who despises him unjustly, this is the place with the boxes full of visions and where the man made of stars is wrongfully imprisoned. . .a prison I fight every day to free him from. . .my next note lies where the sloth never looks. . .," Robin read. "He's certainly theatrical."

"I know," Steve said, smiling and biting his lip. "Family Video!"

"I'm sure that Keith would appreciate being called a pox ridden sloth," Robin said. "Alright, let's go."

"You're coming with?" He asked.

"Vickie's out of town. There's nothing on TV. . .entertain me, peasant!" Robin exclaimed.

"You and Eddie. . .both theatrical," Steve said.

"Says the drama queen himself," Robin replied. "After you, your bitchiness."

Steve and Robin went to Family Video. They went in, brushing by a disgruntled looking Keith arguing with a customer, and went straight for their hidden candy stash in the storage closet. Tucked under the box was another clue. They took the clue and walked out, quickly moving past Keith getting put in a headlock by a small elderly woman. They opened the clue in the car.

"This is the spot where I turned you away. Regretfully, I did, not knowing of the magic you buried deep inside. Sent by the enemy, I thought you were. . .oh, if I could turn back the hands of time and awaken the fool that I was, trapped in the grave of my own making. . .if I had said yes, then. . .awaiting in the stacks is my eternal regret and the very next clue. . .," Robin read. "Okay, what the hell is he talking about?"

"Hawkins' Public Library," Steve muttered, blushing.

"I feel like I'm missing some critical information here, Steven," Robin said.

"Uh, freshman year, I wanted to do something different. . .you know, in addition to basketball and the swim team. I thought Hellfire sounded like fun, but when I approached Eddie in the library. . .," he trailed off.

"He thought you were fucking with him," she realized.

"Yeah, he said that me and my stupid hair have better things to do than to fuck with him, like beg Daddy for money," Steve said.

"Jesus," Robin said and paused. "I'm starting to think that maybe it's not just asshole jocks who are judgemental. I mean, now that I'm thinking about it. . .how could you possibly know everyone in the school. . .how can I call you asshole for that, especially when I made myself unapproachable? I made a snap judgment."

"Everyone does, Robin," Steve said. "You decided not to stick to it. Some people aren't smart enough to do that."

Robin beamed at him and squished his cheeks before placing a kiss on his nose.

"My dingus," she whispered.

"My Robin," he smiled.

"Let's go get your fool of a man," Robin said.

Steve and Robin went to the library and walked in, awkwardly waving at the librarian who had a one night stand with Hopper. They quickly scurried past.

"We don't know for sure that actually happened, Robin," Steve whispered.

"According to Erica, Hopper was a bit of. . .," Robin whispered.

"Making snap judgments again, Robin," Steve teased.

"So, I don't suppose you remember which aisle he rejected you in, do you?" Robin asked.

"I actually do," he blushed. "It's right over here. . ."

"Oh my god! The romance section?!" Robin giggled. "Oh, it was definitely meant to be."

"Look, here it is," Steve said and grabbed it before handing it to Robin.

They quickly moved out of the library and back into Steve’s car.

"Beauty within and beauty without, he makes this games appealing to me. A warrior, glistening and shining like the stars he's made of. . .the cloth he wears hides almost nothing. . .this place he fights and plays to win but also for the love of the people. . .my heart, it's him, the gladiator that he is, and this is his arena, where the next clue awaits. . . Does my dear sweet gladiator fight his fate?" Robin read.

"The basketball court," Steve said, snapping his fingers.

When they showed up to the entrance to the gym, it was blocked by Jeff and Doug. They were sitting in chairs, reading. When they caught sight of Steve, they tossed their books aside and quickly stood up.

"Finally!" Doug exclaimed.

"Well, I wasn't going to play along, but I got curious," Steve said.

"I told you," Doug said to Jeff, who rolled his eyes. "Why isn't Gareth doing this?"

"Because he's hanging out with Will again," Jeff said and nudged him in the side. "Come on, man, play along."

"Fine."

"Oh, sweet Steve, you have arrived, and now you have a choice to make, this door of mine or this door of his?" Jeff asked.

"One door leads to your utter doom," Doug said.

"And the other leads to your destiny," Jeff said.

"Trick question," Steve said before they could finish, his hands on his hips. "Both doors. He's both my destiny and my doom."

Jeff and Doug bowed low before stepping aside. As Steve and Robin went inside, they heard them whisper.

"Dustin wasn't kidding. Steve really is a genius at figuring out Eddie's next move," Doug said.

"Yeah," Jeff said. "It just means it's true love. . .that's also why Steve doesn't play D&D. He tends to call Eddie out on it."

Steve and Robin moved further into the gym. In the middle, there was a long plastic table. On it was a pink dress, much like Sarah's dress from Labyrinth except that it wasn't quite so big. It looked handmade, so whoever made it worked with what they had, and Steve thought they did a wonderful job. Anyone else would look down on it, but Steve could see the love and the care that went into it. To Steve, it was perfect. Pink, Steve thought, one of his favorite colors.

"Ooh, there's a note. . .oh, thank God, I don't have to put it on," Robin said and pressed it into Steve’s hand.

"My dear sweet gladiator, in order to prepare for battle, one must wear armor. You are in your arena. . .meet me in mine," Steve said, and he smiled. "Oh my god, what a fucking dork."

"There's a bag under the table," Robin said.

Steve pulled it out and unzipped it. Inside was a pair of heals, makeup. . . And his bat!

"Hey! I was wondering where that went," Steve said.

"You know you don't have to wear any of this," she said in amusement.

"Please, Robin," Steve scoffed. "You know I'm going to."

He stripped down in the middle of the gym, replacing his clothes with the other garments. He eagerly put on the makeup Eddie provided and then slid on the heals. He didn't need any help walking in them.

"This isn't your first time wearing a dress or heals is it?" Robin asked.

"Of course not," Steve said.

"Like I should automatically know this about you when you haven't told me?" Robin asked.

"I have a couple in my closet," he said.

"I thought those were trophies," she said.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Steve asked. "I just like dressing up sometimes. . .my dad never let me join theater."

"Do you feel like a woman sometimes?" She asked.

"Sometimes. . .but other times, I feel like a man like even when I'm wearing pants or dresses," Steve said, and then his eyes widened. "Hold on. . .are you saying like I'm bisexual. . .I could be bi. . .gender?"

"Yeah, I guess, if that's what feels right to you," Robin grinned.

"Awesome," Steve beamed, and she grabbed the bat from Robin.

"Nothing like a pretty girl who could also kill you. . .and I still mean that platonically," Robin said. "By the way, that's faster than when you realized you're bisexual."

"I'm learning," she replied.

"So, not only was this a road to love, it was also a road to self-discovery while I, Robin Buckley, also continue to learn more about my platonic soulmate - ,"

"Robin, stop narrating, and let's get to the drama room!" Steve yelled.

As they moved down the hallway, they ran into Jonathan and Nancy.

"What are you doing here?" Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin asked at the same time.

"I asked you first," they said again.

"They found my favorite sweater in the journalism classroom," Nancy said.

"And then we can say we're done with this school for good," Jonathan said. "More importantly, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Eddie kidnapped Dustin. I'm rescuing him," Steve replied.

"I have more questions," Jonathan said. "Why are you wearing a dress?"

"You've never seen him in a dress?" Nancy asked.

"No, have you?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, tons of times," Nancy said and then turned to Steve. "Your boobs look fantastic in that dress."

"Don't they?" Steve agreed, scrunching up her nose. "Eddie made the dress. . .Robin!"

Steve gasped as her hands disappeared into the dress.

"What?" Robin asked.

"They have pockets!" Steve squealed and twirled around.

"We'll let you get back to it, I guess. Good luck rescuing Dustin," Jonathan said.

"Thanks," Steve beamed.

Steve ran past them, pulling up the dress of her skirt so she could run better.

"Jesus, you can run in those heels?!" Robin shrieked. "How?!"

Steve ignored her and continued on to the drama room. She burst into the room, her heart pounding with adrenaline. It was completely dark. Steve jumped when music started playing, and a spotlight flickered on. The light was over Eddie's old throne, the throne that now belonged to Dustin. Eddie was sprawled out on it, one leg over the arm of the chair. He was wearing skin-tight leather black pants and a gray vest. His hair was even wilder than usual, and he wore eyeliner that made his eyes pop. Steve bit her lip. God, she wanted to fuck him right there in the chair. If only Robin and Dustin weren't there. Oh, right, Dustin. He was sitting in a plastic chair, reading, and drinking Yoo-hoo. He was also wearing stripped pajamas, almost similar to the ones the baby wore in the movie. Boy, Eddie really was going all out with this.

"My dear sweet gladiator, you made it to the final act," Eddie said, standing. "Are you ready to face your final test?"

"Depends on what the test is, my little hairy butt," Steve said, her hands on her hip.

"It's supposed to be a cute nickname!" Eddie shrieked.

"Wait, does Eddie really have a hairy - "

"You're supposed to be kidnapped, Henderson!"

"Right."

Eddie grinned and moved closer to Steve. He held out his hand.

"A fight. . .to the death," Eddie said.

Steve grinned and took his hand. Eddie pulled him into his arms, his other arm wrapping around her waist. Steve heard the music stop and then someone changing the tapes. As the World Falls Down by David Bowie started playing.

"This feels a lot like dancing," Steve teased, and Eddie shushed her.

"There's such a sad love. . .Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel. . .Open and closed. . .Within your eyes. . .I'll place the sky. . .Within your eyes. . .There's such a fooled heart. . .Beatin' so fast. . .In search of new dreams. . .A love that will last. . .Within your heart. . .I'll place the moon. . .Within your heart," Eddie sang.

"This is nice," Steve whispered and pressed her cheek to his as they slow danced.

"Do you feel properly seduced?" Eddie asked.

"Absolutely taken," Steve giggled. "So why Labyrinth. . .I know how much you love it, but. . .I feel like there's more to it."

"When we went to go see it together, it was just us. . .no kids, no Robin, no exes. . .," Eddie said and paused. "I realized that it felt like a date, and I wanted it to be, I wished so badly that it was."

"So. . .you want things to change?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"No more casual sex?"

"No more casual sex. . .I just wanted to prove to you how much you mean to me," Eddie said. ". . .how much I want you."

"Proven," Steve said and paused. "How much would it mean to you if I told you that sometimes I'm a woman?"

"What?" Eddie asked.

"I like wearing dresses and make up, I feel like a woman, but even when I'm wearing what's considered man clothes, I feel like a woman, just like sometimes when I wear skirts or dresses, I feel like a man who likes go wear dresses. . .so it's not the clothes that make me feel this way but it's an added bonus," Steve said. "With Robin's help and yours with the dress, I realized that I might be, I don't know if that's the word, but. . bigender?"

"I never knew you liked dresses," he said softly.

"Skirts, too, I never told Robin either," Steve said.

"Just when I thought you couldn't make me more in awe of you. . .you did it, babe. So fucking metal," Eddie whispered and she laughed.

"So, would you gladly call me your girlfriend right now?" Steve asked.

"Fuck yeah," Eddie sighed.

Eddie spun Steve around in and dipped her before kissing her deeply. Steve sighed against his lips, her fingers curling into his hair. They broke apart when Robin cleared her throat, and they turned around. She was flipping through Dustin's book as she sat next to him while Dustin snoozed on her shoulder.

"The baby's finished his bottle, and now he's down for a nap. . .if you want any more of my services, I charge by the minute," Robin said. "I add on extra if you want me to get him out of here so he doesn't have to hear mummy and daddy fornicate."

"How much sugar did you give him, Eddie?" Steve asked, frowning.

"Not much," Eddie shrugged.

"He's in a sugar coma, Edward," Robin said.

"You love me, right?" Eddie asked Steve as he smiled innocently.

"Yeah. . .as long as you explain this to Claudia," Steve scoffed, and her face softened. "This was amazing, Eddie. I loved it. I love you. . .I fucking love the dress. . .God, I want to blow you so hard for adding the pockets."

"Gah! Take me home!" Robin yelled and then smiled softly at them. "Happy for you two dinguses but I don't want to witness anything."

"We should get the kid to Claudia, anyway," Eddie grinned.

Steve smiled as she walked out of the school with her best friend, the boy she thought of like a brother, and her new boyfriend. This was the best day ever, and she was glad that she had decided to do this. . .she also loved how many people were willing to help out. . .hold on, were Jonathan and Nancy here for her sweater?

"Oh, hey, look! It's Hop!" Dustin exclaimed.

Sure enough, Hopper's police car was in the parking lot. . .curious, they met him halfway.

"Well, we got reports that Dustin was kidnapped," Hopper said, squinting his eyes at them. "I'm guessing that's not the case."

"Nope!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Goddamnit. . ."

Steve shared a grin with Eddie. They were definitely having a better do than he was. Steve gripped the bat in her hand, ready to face whatever came their way.

"Shit," Eddie muttered. "I knew I forgot to tell someone about the plan. . ."

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

It was an apple. A stupid apple that you swiped. Thinking that you'd be able to get away with it too. And you would've too, if it wasn't for some tall peacekeeper with a platinum blonde buzz cut spotting you. 

Of course, he spotted you.

Because the universe hates you, left you alone to fend for yourself godforsaken District 8. Oh, gods, why, fucking why did you listen to your late brother's girlfriend and apply for a district transfer (when word that 8 was in desperate need for factory workers after a pox epidemic)? District 8 was even more depressing than 12. 

At least 12 had foliage, woods and meadows. Lakes, streams, and creaks. Ways to naturally gather food. Fresh air. 

District 8 had multiple textile factories that produced smog, run down tenant buildings, block and brick buildings crowding everything, and more cement than grass. The winters were cold and harsh, the snow and ice more then what 12 ever received. The river in the district had a large bridge over it, was more or less a landmark then a place to swim and fish. The water was most likely polluted from the textile factories.

All in all, 8 was miserable. And you were all alone in the district, working at a factory that made peacekeeper uniforms for a wage that was half of what you made back in 12 as an assistant in the apothecary. You lived in a small, crappy, worn down one room apartment that made your old wooden shack back in the Seam of District 12 look like the Taj Mahal.

Damn Ashlie for hooking up with a man so quickly after arriving in 8; for leaving you alone so that she could move in with the idiot. 

Why would you expect to get away with stealing an apple? Not with your luck. 

No…

You should've known better.

So, instead of begging to be let go for your crime, you just let the peacekeeper take you to his superior. You knew what awaited you, what your punishment would be. The angelic looking peacekeeper, dressed in blue fatigues and a coat that made his crystal blue eyes pop, had to know the fate he was taking you to. He looked to be a grunt, but you knew that peacekeepers (no matter their age) were just an extension of the Capitol’s cold, cruel, heartless rule.

So, no, unlike other thieves you didn't try to plead your way out of it. You just let yourself be led to the slaughter.

Coriolanus hated being a peacekeeper in 8. Damn that secretary in the Capitol’s PK recruitment office for refusing his bribe. If it wasn't for that stupid bitch, he'd be in 12 right now. He’d be with Lucy Gray.

But it turns out that he wasn't meant to be sent to 12 or to be with Lucy Gray. But what he was meant for was to be tortured by the presence of Sejanus Plinth. Stupid idiot willingly signed up for 20 years in the Peacekeepers; had his rich father get him stationed in the same district Coriolanus was sent to. 

District 8.

Sejanus wanted to become a medic after his PK training while Coriolanus just wanted to find a way back to the Capitol. Which meant that he needed to impress his superiors and take the officer’s evaluation exam as soon as he's eligible for it.

Private Plinth wanted to make a difference while Private Snow wanted to impress everyone; rise in the ranks in order to get sent back home to the Capitol.

So, during his day off, Coriolanus wandered the streets- looking for any opportunity to exploit; to make himself look impeccable in the eyes of the higher ups on PK Base-D8. 

Sejanus was making friends with the locals, which caused Coriolanus’ skin to crawl. Why would somebody willingly befriend the filthy district scum while on their day off? Then Coriolanus remembered that Sejanus might've been raised in the Capitol with more wealth then he knew what to do with, but he was District. He was from 2 and that would always make him less, make him a dirty dog.

Sejanus could mingle with his fellow district scum all he wanted, but Coriolanus wasn't going to. No, he was better than the locals here. Had no need to befriend rats.

Coriolanus was walking in the marketplace, which in his opinion was pathetic compared to the shopping area in the Capitol's downtown, when he spotted you. He thought that you were the prettiest girl he's set eyes on (including Lucy Gray) despite you being district. So, he decided to follow you.

And right when he was about to approach you, he saw you steal an apple. Coriolanus knew by how thin you are that you're probably hungry, maybe even starving (he's no stranger to hunger; him and hunger are old friends), but he couldn't let it slide. Catching you in the act of thievery while on his day off will get him looked at favorably by his superiors. It'll be an opportunity to make a great impression.

So, Coriolanus went over to you and grabbed your arm. You looked up at him with wide eyes, realizing that you got caught. And Coriolanus couldn't help, but think that you had beautiful eyes.

But he'd worry about gazing into them later, like after he's done turning you in.

Reaching into the pocket of your coat, which was thin and worn with patches on it, he dryly said, “Did you forget to pay for your apple, pretty thief?”

You didn't say a word, just gnawed on your bottom lip as he held the apple in his hands- inspecting it. It was red, but not very large. In fact, Coriolanus felt that the apple was of poor quality. You must've been desperate to snatch such a small piece of fruit.

The fruit merchant, whose back was turned when you took the apple, turned around just in time to see the platinum peacekeeper put the apple back onto the large pile it was taken from before escorting you off.

In District 12 there's a whipping post where people are tied to for floggings, but District 8 didn't have one of those. No, in District 8 a thief was made to strip (naked) and kneel in the snow while being whipped for their crime. 

It was a very humiliating, degrading, and painful experience. 

After your lashing was done, the peacekeeper that did it just laughed and tossed his whip on the blood stained snow next to you. You could hear the hushed pity filled whispers of the people around you as you lay on the snow, crying and in pain from your ordeal. 

Your body hurts so bad. A hot pain is seering thru you as blood rolls down your back from all the open wounds left from the lashes. Your blood drips on the snow and all you can think of is how are you going to get up; get home? You can barely move and nobody's going to move an inch or lift a finger to help you. 

You've been whipped for being a thief, you're poison to the citizens of 8. They'll never look at you the same way again. You were dumb enough to get caught; that means you're a liability.

“Come on, get up, darling.” You heard the peacekeeper, who had turned you in, say while crouching next to you. He helped you sit up, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream of pain. 

His icy blue eyes flickered with what you thought was a mix of concern and guilt as he quickly draped his coat over you. The heavy roughness of the wool painfully scratches your open wounds, causing you to let out another painful cry. 

You could feel the eyes of the district onlookers piercing into you as the peacekeeper picked you up bridal style; carrying you away from the crimson stained Snow and your pile of clothes. The crowd parts, like the parting of the seas, when the tall, platinum blonde peacekeeper walked towards the exit of the main square, where punishments were given out.

“Where am I taking you?” He asked, holding you close to him as your bleeding back stained his coat.

 “Third building on 16th Street.” You told him, voice shaking from the pain. 

“Stop whining, I'll get you home and cleaned up soon enough.”

“Should I be thanking you? It's your fault I got whipped so badly.”

 “Well, maybe if you didn’t steal we wouldn’t of had this issue, now would we?” The pretty boy peacekeeper condescendingly asked while continuing to carry you home. “Don't do this again; I won't always be available to take care of you afterwards.”

What the hell?!...

Is he serious? What is he, a delusional sadist? He's the reason your back’s torn to shreds, he's the one that turned you in, but now he wants to take care of you. Even has the nerve to tell you not to get whipped again, because he might be too busy to help you. 

What the hell’s wrong with this angelic looking devil of a man?

Coriolanus noticed how you looked at him with puzzlement in your beautiful eyes. He also noticed how pain was etched on your face. It sent a small pang of guilt into his chest, but he also felt something else. Just like the night he killed Bobbin in the arena, he felt powerful. Yes, he felt powerful that it was him that caused you pain. That by doing his job as a peacekeeper he was able to hold your fate in his hands. He also felt powerful knowing that he's the one that’s helping you; that’ll clean your wounds and bandage you up.

And the feeling of having power over you was euphoric to him. So, he decided to make you his girl in order to keep that power; that feeling he gets when exerting that power over you.

“You'll be safe with me, darling. I'll take care of you.” Coriolanus promised, only to add in. “What's your name, my pretty girl?”

His pretty girl? Is he for real right now? Oh boy… Only you would have a peacekeeper staking his claim on you after getting you whipped for thievery. If only your older brother was alive right now, he'd be laughing his ass off at your shitty luck.

“Y/N Halvir.” You simply answered, silently praying that your apartment would appear soon.

“I'm Coriolanus Snow, but you can call me Coryo since you're my girl now.” Coryo smiled at you. A smile that was too wide, showed off too many pearly white teeth, and seemed to be wicked.

You're his girl now, all because he caught you stealing an apple? Talk about a strange turn of events…

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[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Under the weather

pairings: katie mccabe x reader, caitlin foord x reader

summary: readers' sick with chicken pox and its' definitely not a fun experience for anyone involved.

"Mammy, mammy!" You rush to the front door, excited to see the older women after you had been at nursery all day until your auntie Ella picked you up, while Katie was at training.

"Theres' my little rascal!" Katie beams a wide smile and scoops you up into her arms, more than happy to see you after you'd spent the weekend at Ruesha's. "Mammy's missed you, so so much!"

"Ook' Mammy, I got cool spots!" You tell Katie and point to the several spots that are starting to appear all over your face, arms and tummy; You can't help but want to itch them because of how irritating they are.

Katies' eyes widen in suprise as she bends down to your level, "Oh no-- Did you have these at nusery today, rascal?" She wonders, concerned.

It was either something that you got at nursery, or somehow over the weekend while you were with Ruesha instead.

Katie is already making a mental note to phone Ruesha and ask her about it.

"Uh huh. Mammy, I feel itchy," You whine in complaint, rubbing your arm as you start to feel confused and uncomfortable about them.

"Oh rascal," Katie inspects them closely and has the sudden realisation of what the culprit is...

Chicken pox.

You'd been lucky to escape them, at least that is until now. However, Katie knew it would only be a matter of time before you caught it.

"I don' like these spots, mammy," You whimper and go to try and itch them even more; Your definitely not a fan of these newfound spots.

"Its' chicken pox," Katie exhales a sigh and keeps you in her arms, to carry you back to the comfort of the sofa where she wraps your blanket around you to keep you comfy. "Now listen to me, rascal, alright? Its' important that you don't scratch any of your spots, okay?" She tells you gently but in a firm voice, although she knows' it difficult for you to understand when your only little still.

"No scratch them mammy," You nod in response, although you know it's going to be difficult to not do that. "They're itchy though!" You huff in protest.

You really, really don't like chicken pox at all.

"I know they are, but it will get better," Katie tries to reassure you and wrap her arm around you to comfort you. "How about you sit here and watch Toy Story, hm?" She suggests, knowing watching your favourite movie might help perk you up a bit.

"Uh huh," You mumble in agreement, burying yourself in your blanket as Katie works to turn on the movie for you to watch.

"There we go," Katie smiles at you sympatethically. "How about Mammy goes and gets you something to drink, hm?" She asks, stroking your hair.

"Juice, please," You say between yawns.

"Mammy will be right back then," Katie tells you before she heads into the kitchen and returns with a small cup of juice, to hand it to you. "Sit up and drink it rascal, okay?" She questions, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you," Your voice isn't louder than a whisper as you willingly take the cup and drink it carefully to not spill any of it. "Don' like this, Mammy."

"I know you don't, but you'll be better in no time," Katie tells you as she settles back on the sofa besides you and your more than happy enough to worm your way to literally sit on top of her.

It's a known fact when your sick that you become extremely clingy and this time round is no difference.

You've currently got yourself latched on to Katie and your not willing to let go, even when the door goes.

"Let go a second, rascal. Mammy needs to get the door," Katie tries to prise your hands off her as she needs to move and answer the door.

Your Auntie Ellas' not home right now, so she can't even get it so you can continue to cuddle instead.

"Don' go, mammy!" You whimper in objection.

Katie frowns and still tries to get up from the sofa, "It's okay, its' alright. I'll be right back," She promises you.

"No, Mammy-- Don' go!" You continue to whine, tears at bay at the thought of her leaving.

"Alright, alright," Katie exhales a sigh and lifts you up into her arms. "Come on, lets' go and answer the door together, hm?" She states, moving to walk over to the front door with you in her arms still.

"Okay," You mumble and clasp your tiny arms around her neck.

Katie opens the door and smiles at her girlfriend, "Hi Cait," She greets her.

"Hey Katie-- Oh no, what's the matter, kid?" Caitlin instantly feels concerned when she see's you looking not so happy in Katies' arms.

You frown instantly and move to bury your face in Katies' shoulder.

"Someones' gotten the chicken pox," Katie explains, stepping aside to let her girlfriend inside the house. "And shes' also incredibly clingy right now."

"Ah, I see," Caitlin hums in agreement as shes' hesistant to overstep the mark as she follows her girlfriend into the living room. "I'm sorry your not feeling well, kid. Chicken pox aren't nice at all."

"No like 'em," Your bottom lip wobbles as the tears become visable, threatening to spill. "They itchy!"

"I know they might be," Caitlin sympathsises with you, knowing how uncomfortable you might be now.

Katie manages to unlatch your tiny hands from her once your back sitting comfortably on the sofa, "I just need to nip upstairs to the bathroom. Do you mind sitting with her until I'm back?" Shes' hesistant to leave you knowing how clingy you've been, but she is desperate to use the toilet.

"Go ahead, we'll be fine right here, right kid?" Caitlin sends you a warm smile.

"No, Mammy, no. Don' go!" You whimper and try to cling onto Katie, not wanting her to leave your side when you feel so miserable.

"Mammy will be back in a few minutes. Just stay down here with Caitlin for now, okay?" Katie bends down to speak to you on the same level. "I'll be really quick, rascal. I promise you'll be fine here with Caitlin."

 Your hesistant to agree but you slowly nod, "Otay, mammy... But come back quick." You tell her.

Katie smiles and places a gentle kiss on the top of your head, "I will, rascal. Mammy will be right back, okay?" She reassures you, before turning to look at Caitlin. "I'll be quick as I can, thank you." With that, she rushes upstairs, grateful for the 5 minutes break from you clinging onto her.

"What're you watchin' then, kid?" Caitlin eyes' the TV as she notes its' Toy Story again. "Ah, Andy and Buzzlight year, huh?" She jokes.

"Buzz lightyear!" You repeat, wearily looking at Caitlin from the comfort of your blanket wrapped around you. "Infinity and beyond!"

Caitlin gasps slightly and smiles, "Is Buzz your favourite character?" She wonders.

"Uh huh, Mammy brought me shoes' just like Buzz!" You exclaim, starting to retreat out from your initial shyness; You know Caitlin, you know you will be okay with her for a few minutes until Katie comes back.

"Wow, that's to cool!" Caitlin exclaims, still continuing to beam a wide smile. "You'll have to show me them sometimes. Do you have any more Toy Story toys?" She asks.

"Uh huh!" You nod, wriggling from the space on the sofa and toddling over to the Toy Chest, where you know where your toys will be, including your very own Buzz Lightyear. "Ook' Caitlin! I got Buzz!" You all but shove the toy in the Aussie girls' face, eager to show her now.

"That's awesome, kid!" Caitlin keeps up her enthusiasm, somewhat grateful for the fact that you're wanting to show your toys to her. "Maybe when you're feeling a little better, we can go to the toy shop and find some more cool Buzz stuff, huh?" She wonders.

"Yeah!" You nod in agreement, climbing back up onto the sofa to sit beside her still with your Buzz Lightyear toy clutched in your arm; You didn't think Caitlin was so bad after all.

"I'm back. Hows' my rascal doin'-- Oh, I see we've decided to show Caitlin your buzz lightyear toy, hm?" Katie notes' the toy clutched in your arm and beams a wide smile, glad to see you opening up to her girlfriend.

"Mammy, Caitlin said we can go toy shop when I'm better and find more Buzz stuff!" You state in excitement. "Right, Caitlin?" You turn to look at the Aussie girl for confirmation.

"Yep, you bet!" Caitlin replies in agreement.

"Wow, really? That's so cool, rascal!" Katie gasps in excitement. "You'll have to get better first though, my very own little Buzz Lightyear." She jokes with you.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[notablenotions]

Masks of Nobility-Chapter 7

Jikta sketched in her notebook, capturing things she had seen throughout the day as though her memory might fail her. She had lost all track of time when the doors to her chambers swung open. She didn’t notice, nor did she notice her husband striding in with purpose—or the disdain he directed at her ladies. She wasn’t sure what he said to them, or how, but they scattered with such speed she hadn’t thought the old crones capable of.

Hans stood there, running his fingers through his hair, eyes flickering between her, the floor,n and his less flamboyant hose—as if hoping they might help him find the right words.

"I spoke to Henry..." he finally said.

Jikta looked up from her sketch."You spoke to just Henry?"

Hans blinked, clearly not expecting that response. She smirked. She might not be great with people, but she did enjoy a well-placed jab.

"A joke among friends," she clarified, amused.

Hans’s eye twitched—was that jealousy? He cleared his throat, visibly thrown off, waving his hands in the air with typical dramatic flair. She’d grown used to his theatrics, even if she didn’t understand them.

He flung himself into the chair that had become his during his visits. She was grateful he respected the routine—it kept things predictable.

Resting his head against his hand, he muttered, "I will speak with Uncle... I mean, we should at least be able to control our own home."

His voice held a note of shame.

"And... about the pox comment from before—"

She interrupted. "Whatever you did—or do—is not my concern. I only ask you avoid those with pox or other ailments. For your own health. And if we must produce an heir."

Hans lowered his head, seemingly grateful for the interruption. She continued, matter-of-fact:

"Besides, who are they to judge, when they’ve been bedded by Hanush of all people? I’m surprised they can move so quickly after having a man of his size on top of them."

Hans snorted, bursting into a loud, gutteral laugh, tears streaming down his face.

"Christ, wife, you sound like a bawdy tavern wench! Heavens... thank you."

He smiled at her with ease, and for the first time, it seemed like something close to friendship was taking root.

"I’ve hired you a maid," he said, still chuckling. "If Uncle refuses to grant my request, I’ll pay for her out of my own purse. At least then, you’ll have someone who truly supports you."

She looked back at her sketchbook, genuinely grateful for the thought.

"Thank you for such thoughtfulness. When time allows, perhaps you could explain the situation with Lord Hanush to me, so I can navigate it efficiently."

Hans looked surprised but nodded. He launched into an explanation about Hanush’s reluctance to grant him full control of his inheritance. She listened closely, filtering for information of value and discarding his embellishments and perceived slights.

"Understandable… for a fourth son," she muttered.

Hans leaned back with a crooked smile.

"As you can see, you are now an unwilling convict in my jail."

Jikta looked around her plush room.

"I’ve seen worse jails."

Hans chuckled at her quip. Was that a flicker of endearment?

"Your family leaves tomorrow, don’t they?"

She froze, throat tight, and gave a small nod.

"Then there’s nothing for it," he said, rising with a dramatic flourish. "I, Sir Hans Capon, and my faithful guard Just Henry, will be your family now."

He looked her in the eye with the kind of charm she imagined had caused untold trouble. ‘Just Henry’ certainly had her sympathies.

She stood awkwardly, joining the show. They looked like children playing at knights.

"Sir Hans," she said dryly, "do not try and force yourself into a joke between friends. You’re unaware of the legend of ‘Just Henry.’"

Hans placed a hand over his heart, feigning shock and outrage. She suspected he was only slightly put out by it.

She sat back down, returning to her book.

"But nonetheless, I thank you, Sir Hans. Please extend my thanks to ‘Just Henry.’ I believe you’ll see him before I do."

Hans looked ready to ask a dangerous question, but Jikta quickly cut him off.

"Here. A gift."

She ripped a page from her sketchbook—a drawing from earlier in the day. It was Just Henry, tongue out, threading a needle. The likeness was amusingly realistic.

"To cement our family bond," she said.

Hans stared at it—and roared with laughter, clutching his stomach, tears returning.

"My God, wife, this might be the greatest gift I’ve ever received! I must buy you more supplies—Christ, I may enjoy this family life with you and ‘Just Henry.’"He glanced at the darkening sky.

"Ah, I’ve been here longer than planned."

Carefully, delicately, he folded the drawing and tucked it into his undershirt like it was something sacred. "I’ll take my leave on that note," he said, bowing formally.

"Please don’t show him. He’d be mortified. And I rather enjoyed teaching him." Hans glanced over his shoulder with a grin. "Heavens, no, wife. This is just for me."He practically skipped out of the room.

Well, at least any reports Hanush received would say Hans left her chambers content—if not with the proper context for that contentment.

Which, of course, was really Just Henry.

Jikta sat back, contemplating the day, then returned to her drawings.

[legacygirlingreen]

That time of year again… // Sebastian Sallow x Reader/MC (NSFW)

Hi friends! I have been battling the flu for a week now so there’s a delay on strumming hearts pt 2 but I managed to scrap this together for those who celebrate Christmas! Also hella unedited so RIP.. anyways, Hope your day has been fantastic!

Screenshots in art by: @sinty2ek - seriously check out their page, it’s great if you aren’t already following 💚

Warning: smut (duh), Sebastian gets dom for a moment but overall is worried about her, loss of virginity, consent is hot, size difference, etc

Word count: 7,700

All characters are aged up and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The first December after the events in Feldcroft, he had come down with a bout of dragon pox that landed him in the hospital wing for weeks. The second his finals had come to an end he wound up in a bed, with nurse Blainey rushing around him, and he didn’t realize what exactly was happening until the first of the year when he was released. In a way, he’d been thankful, that not really being conscious or alert through the worst part of the year.

That vile illness saved him from going to an empty home with too many bad memories to sulk and more than likely drink his uncle's firewhiskey. He had “come too” so to speak the morning of his birthday - New Year’s Eve or Hogmanay for the Scots - but in his house it had always been about celebrating himself and Anne. Knowing he’d be unable to grieve the loss of his sister from his life with nurse Blainey in the room he laid in the hospital bed trying by any means to distract himself.

She had come around several times seeing he was much better but still not quite healthy to be released. As his energy grew so had his restlessness. He was so grateful when his friend, the only one he had anymore, had so sweetly continued to try and attempt to see him. He had heard snippets throughout his stay from the nurse about how the girl had frequently attempted to come see him, and she’d caught the girl trying to sneak in a few times, firmly reassuring the hero of Hogwarts that dragon pox was no laughing matter.

It warmed his heart when he was finally awake at how the pile of books slowly started to accumulate, giving him a much needed distraction. She even slipped in a title to the stack he knew she must’ve stolen from the restricted section, and the thought of her puttering around amongst the ghost to get him comfort while sick, made him smile.

And on his birthday in the morning when he awoke he saw a small slice of cake alongside a neatly wrapped gift and a small note containing his name. Blainey had informed him how desperately the girl had begged to stay on the far side of the hospital just to see him and how upset she’d been handing off the gift and pastry before sulking back downstairs.

As sweet as it all was, he was somewhat grateful to the nurse for keeping the girl away. Not only would he never be able to live with himself should he be the reason she contracted the often fatal illness, but he honestly didn’t want to be seen like that.

He’d been quite honest with himself over that first summer holiday on his feelings for the girl. He had come to terms with the awful ways in which he’d treated her and decided her miracle of not turning him in and standing by him should never go wasted. In those hot months in feldcroft he decided that he’d never hurt her again. And perhaps one day he’d tell her how he felt.

Because as the first July without Anne and Solomon raged on as he tended the garden, all he continued to think of was her shimmering eyes dreamily staring up at his own in amazement as he showed her the undercroft. Or how silky her hair had shown in the moonlight that night they raided the goblin mine. How small she felt pressed against him when he’d pulled her to safety from that spider. How brilliant her smile was when they discovered the first of Isadora’s memories. Or how she held him so tightly the night before they left hogwarts in May when she’d found him crying in the undercroft…

But that former Yule where he laid in a hospital bed, covered in sweat, scabs and looking like death itself, he was almost more thankful that the nurse had prevented the girl of his dreams from seeing his current state. Sebastian had always been a bit cocky. And he knew that he had some baseline qualities to which made him attractive, despite the ones he tended to dislike. He often hoped his messy hair would be considered more charming in her eyes. Or she’d notice that he’d started shaving by purposefully leaving it a few days sometimes so she’d have to notice the dark hair adorning his chin. He found the few of his features he could be proud of and he was thankful that she’d not seen him sick when she’d left that sweet gift.

The girl had dropped off a blank, leather bound journal, simply explaining in her note how proud she’d been of him for not messing with dark magic and that she hoped he’d use the journal to vent his feelings, frustrations, discoveries and anything else as he continued to turn over a new leaf. It had been sweet and something he’d never done before but if he was honest in the last year he’d nearly filled the damn thing after he taped in her note to the first page.

That remaining school year and the start of the current left him following around her like a lost crup puppy. Although feeling a bit self conscious earlier on about his newly acquired dragon pox scars adorning his body and the few on his face, he quickly resolved the issue when she come to him with a potion to cure it that she promised she had done the heavy lifting with garreth on. It overall did the charm and returned his face and skin to its original state.

Anywhere she needed to go after that, he was there. She needed someone to hold books? Sebastian had two hands. She needed an escort through the forbidden forest to find a lost niffler? He was carrying the small creature back for her. She wanted company even on a night he was exhausted? He’d brave the lack of sleep and stay up with her.

At some point during the year she had come to him and confessed she hadn’t been sleeping well, professor Weasley and her head of house recommending she relocate to her room of requirement instead of a dorm so she wouldn’t disturb her roommates with the nightmares.

So every once in a while when he too was struggling to fall asleep he’d find a note slipping under his dormitory door and he’d be slipping off to the tapestry in the hall to make sure she was okay.

Deek had found them most mornings still awake by the fire just chatting and decided perhaps Matilda didn’t need to know everything. Not even on the rare mornings he found Mr Sallow’s arms wrapped around his dear friend as they both slept soundly in her conjured bed. As far as Deek was concerned both children desperately needed whatever sleep they got, and the hero of Hogwarts only seemed to sleep in the arms of that Slytherin boy with the brown eyes that never left her.

As they found themselves in their seventh year, Ominis eventually trickled back into their lives. Having seen the changes made by Sebastian, and the reassurance from the girl he truly had given up after the damage he brought, Ominis decided that his found family was still better than his birth family. Despite that, he still had obligations at Yule until he was of age, leaving the pair behind as he boarded the train in Hogsmeade in December.

Sebastian wasn’t looking forward to Christmas this year. Not that he truly had for a while - Yule always brought forth the nasty reminder of those who were missing - a number that was increasing for him by the years. But this was going to be the first he was actually conscious for after his sister left. Given the previous dragon pox year he wasn’t sure what was going to happen this year.

Almost as if sensing his nervousness going into the holidays she approached him during dinner the last day of their examinations as she sat down gently and leaned a hand over to place on his arm, startling him out of his deep thoughts while he stared at his mashed potatoes.

Hey Bash, are you alright?

He looked up with a small jump as he saw her brow furrowed and her gaze laced with concern. Her sweet voice caused that ever present stirring to arise in his stomach as he sighed and turned towards her, making her drop her hand from his bicep in the process.

“I suppose” he said after a moment looking down and seeing where her thigh was almost pressed against his own and where she had laced her hands together in her lap after she let go of him.

After a beat of silence she spoke again.

“You’re feeling sad about the holidays this year aren’t you?” She asked and he almost let out a small yelp at how wonderfully she was able to capture exactly what he’d been thinking without him even having to explain himself.

Looking back at her empathetic expression he nodded. Of course she was understanding. She had always been nothing but caring since the day he’d met her.

Sighing, she averted her gaze and grabbed one of his forgotten peeled orange slices off his plate and popped it into her mouth, slowly allowing the fruits somewhat bitter-sweetness to coat her tongue before she swallowed and looked back at him.

“This is the time of year I feel the most alone” she admitted as she looked back up at him from her seat on the Slytherin bench.

Sebastian recalled the times she had mentioned growing up in a muggle orphanage in London. How abysmally poor and mismanaged it was run. How professor Fig had come, lying that he was a long lost relative to the nuns before “bringing her home” as he explained to the young witch that she had accidentally wound up at a muggle orphanage instead of a magic one when her parents were discovered dead by non magical policemen when she was an infant.

Spending her first Christmas at Hogwarts when Professor Fig was still alive had been wonderful. she’d been allowed to travel to visit him and Ominis and Anne during the last Christmas he’d had at feldcroft with the professor just during the day. Sebastian also remembered fondly how happy she looked celebrating Yule with them before she returned to hogwarts for the rest of the holiday: not before giving him a quick kiss to the cheek and scurrying off behind the late man. It had been Sebastian’s first decent Christmas since his parents died.

Now the pair sat in the great hall carrying the weight of loss and loneliness as they went uncertainty into the holiday season.

“I don’t want to go back to Feldcroft alone this year” he admitted bluntly as he continued to peel the orange, handing her a slice as he ate another. As they silently ate the fruit he kept thinking about how he felt conflicted in returning. A part of him hoped Anne would show up again but he knew deep down it was unlikely.

“What if… what if you didn’t go back to Feldcroft? What if you stayed here… with me?” She asked quietly without looking up at him.

Sebastian had wondered if he should stay at the school given he had no family to return to, but he worried she see him as imposing as hogwarts truly was the only home she had.

“You want me to stay?” He asked, unsure if she meant it but hopeful she did want him there.

“Of course I would. I always want you around. I think it’s silly for us both to be alone during Christmas if we have each other we could be keeping company.” she explained as she finally looked again.

“What about our dorm rooms-“ he asked as she shook her head with a small amount of blushing working its way to her face.

“We can stay in the room of requirement. Professor Weasley was returning home this year so she won’t be checking in and last anyone heard you were going to feldcroft. Only one who would know is Deek and he would never tell a soul. That is, if you are interested…” she explained to him.

He almost stuttered in his reply, taking in that the girl was willingly offering him to stay with her for an extended period of time alone and unsupervised. Sure he occasionally fell asleep there when she invited him but never for multiple nights in a row and with the intention directly.

“You want me to stay with you alone?” He asked and she gently nodded.

“I would. We can conjure a tree and decorate it together in the main room. Take care of the beasts in the vivariums and sneak down the library to get books to read… it could be fun” she reasoned and he nodded.

“Alright. I think I would really like that. Only if you’re sure you are alright with it. I can also sleep on the settee in the main room-“ he offered and she shook her head, opening her mouth to speak before pausing and looking down.

“You can if you prefer that, but I -“ she trailed off as she looked at his wild expression before continuing as she tucked one of those stray hairs so often around her face behind her ear as she admitted, “I do sleep better when you are around… the nightmares don’t usually happen when you are with me…” she told him.

He knew the feeling. In fact he knew it so well that the only peaceful sleep he often found was in her room when they fell asleep after hours of talking together. He never knew how but eventually once he would calm her down and they’d talk, he would wake up the next morning with her nestled against his body as if during the night they had reached over to hold one another.

“I-“ he paused, raking his own hands in his hair as he also admitted, “me too. I think the only real sleep I’ve gotten all year has been in the room of requirement”

“So you’ll stay? With me?” She asked and he nodded.

“I’d love to”

————————

The next morning he’d slipped out of his nearly empty Slytherin dorm room with a small bag over his shoulder of the stuff he usually brought home. Some clothes that weren’t his school uniforms, a few books, a quill and some ink, some snacks, the few toiletries he had and the journal she’d given him the previous year. As he snuck down the empty halls he came across the door to the room or requirement, now revealing itself to him with no problem, before he pushed inside.

Once there he could see the always lit fire in the main room, the vivariums grand entrances, along with all her potting and potions stations. Something about the place always felt so inherently homie and incredibly authentic to her.

“Uh…” he looked around seeing the absence of the witch who had invited him, knowing it was really early in the morning and she possibly could still be asleep, but usually she rose earlier. As he went to check the small bedroom that had appeared a few months prior, the door opened behind him and she shuffled in carrying a small basket.

“Oh, you’re already here. I snuck down to the kitchen for some breakfast and I was going to pop by the dungeons later-“ she started to ramble as he looked at her clothes.

Most of the time she wore her uniform, as most students did, but when she wasn’t in her robes she usually looked a tad mismatched. Often finding random articles of clothing with protection charms while exploring, she wore a tacky blend of them. The girl also usually opted for trousers not skirts or dresses as exploring was easier when you weren’t “worried about the wind blowing up or fabric getting caught” by her own words.

Instead she stood before him in possibly the first time he’d ever seen her without trousers or one of those hideous wool skirts all the students wore. She had a white blouse with an emerald green dress overtop that had only a few white embellishments along the skirt. It wasn’t the most elegant of dresses but it certainly was beautiful, especially since he rarely saw her like this.

He set his bag down and walked towards her, and upon further inspection she also had her hair tied back - not an uncommon sight - but she’d left most of it down, only pulling the front strands out of her way as she tied it back with a bow.

Very different from how he usually saw her.

Upon realizing he had been staring she felt self conscious, asking him “how do I look?” As she awkwardly stroked the material of her skirt down with her free hand.

“You look beautiful” he said without a second thought before he looked at her face, something he’d done so often but as her eyes softened he realized he shouldn’t affirm she looked this way only because of the clothes or change to her hair.

“You are beautiful” he spoke when he found himself planted in front of her, boldly admiring her face and not the wardrobe.

She noticed his correction along with the implications it carried as she fell under the wonderful scrutiny of his gaze. As she did so, she turned to take in his appearance with his lack of the Slytherin robes, swamping them for a simple shirt and vest as he stood in front of her. Usually disguised by school cloaks she could see how wide his shoulders had gotten, along with the exposed skin of his forearms from where he’d rolled his sleeves up. The skin that usually laid covered, now proudly displaying the freckled skin below the light dusting of dark hair, as well as his veins that went into his hand.

“You okay?” She heard his voice ask gently as she looked up from his hands to his face once more.

“Sorry, yeah, I mean thank you-“ she told him as she moved past him and walked down the stairs of the main room into the back area. Sebastian didn’t question as he followed her down into the deeper parts of the room.

Once they emerged in the area he noticed there was a large tree in the middle of the room with some pillow cushions on the floor in front of the fireplace. He realized she must’ve been awake a while to have conjured a tree and made the cozy nest where they likely would read together during the day.

“You’ve been busy” he teased as she walked them over to the fireplace and lifted her skirt ever so slightly so she could settle herself on the ground comfortably.

“I just wanted you to feel as at homey as possible” she explained as he sat down next to her, his long legs stretching out in front of them. Looking between their bodies he noticed her hand sat atop one of the cushions on the floor and he carefully plucked it from the space between them.

As he ran his fingers over the delicate and soft skin of her hand he tried to ignore the way his cheeks flamed at his bold action.

“I really appreciate the effort but you don’t have to play host you know? I am just happy to spend time with you” he explained as he looked at her, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand to truly affirm his words.

She didn’t respond as she stared at the way he continued to clutch her much smaller hand. He worried she would seem disappointed by his request to remain as laid back as possible so he in turn shifted the conversation.

“You said you grabbed breakfast?” He asked and she pulled her hand back to grab the basket, opening it up with a smile to show the goodies she had brought. As she continued to go through the options he couldn’t shake the way her hand in his own had felt like the most incredibly natural act in the world.

———————

After a day of reading, exploring the room, decorating the tree together, and just talking he was on cloud nine. Everything had felt so comfortable, so natural, as they fell into a rhythm alongside one another.

That was, until it was time for bed.

Once again he insisted if she preferred him to sleep on the sofa he would more than happily oblige, understanding that sleeping in the same bed carried heavy implications. She swiftly reminded him that they had indeed fallen asleep in the very bed in her room of requirement before. But for Sebastian, those moments had never been intentional, and to do so from the jump felt like a much deeper step.

To go to bed willingly alongside one another felt like the kind of thing reserved for married couples, certainly not friends of the opposing genders. And especially not a friend he often dreamed about kissing… as well as other more intense and vulgar things…

Regardless, her sweet smile and bright big eyes told him it was okay in her book, and who was he to question that. So as she slipped off into the small bathroom area to change for bed he stripped himself of his clothes and quickly threw on his own night clothes, tossing his dirty ones in his bag just as she returned.

Sebastian hadn’t recalled ever seeing the nightgown she wore. Usually she had something much thicker and denser but this one seemed… thin.

It was suddenly as if Sebastian’s mouth had lost all its moisture and he couldn’t help but stare as the silk she wore seemed to hug areas he usually wasn’t granted access to see.

Since when had her breasts been this full? Has she always had such an intense dip in her waist?

“Sebastian?” She asked him in mild concern as he stared distantly, his mind very much elsewhere as she came closer to where he stood slack jawed. When she found herself in front of him, he looked at her like a wild animal that had been caught by a hunter.

“I…” he trailed off as he took one more, very obvious, look down at her barely clothed breast. The view from up close confirmed his suspicions that she had forgone any form of camisole as the brief outline of her nipple shown through the silk.

“What’s wrong?” She asked gently, not fully comprehending his reaction.

“I… I think I may need to sleep out there” he said shyly as he pointed to the main area, his voice much more painned than he intended it to sound. At his explanation her heart fell as she couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.

“But why? Did I do something to upset you?”

“What?” He asked her as he looked at her hair which he realized was now completely down, something he’d never been privy to see before. It made him want to reach out and touch the long strands and see if they were just as silky as he imagined.

Quickly snapping his eyes back to her suddenly saddened expression he firmly said “You’ve done nothing wrong”. This further plagued the girl as she couldn’t place why exactly he was acting in this manor.

“I don’t understand. I thought you said you slept better when we were here together… Don’t you want to share the bed?” Her hurt expression cut through him as he realized she was still not understanding that his resistance was not due to anything about her personally… more or less it was about his lack of control in regards to his wandering hands should they lay in the same bed all night.

“Come here,” Sebastian explained as he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing her palm and pulling her to do the same. She simply sat next to him as he turned to face her, his knee slightly framing her hips and he did his best to try and ignore how close they really were.

I don’t trust myself.

If she hadn’t watched him say it she wouldn’t have believed he muttered the words.

“What do you mean-“ she asked and Sebastian almost grew frustrated with the girl for her lack of awareness at how much of a beauty she was, along with the fact he was so irrevocably in love with her it pained him.

“I mean you are too bloody gorgeous like this that I don’t trust myself to behave like a gentleman” he let out with a frustrated sigh. He knew he shouldn’t get so worked up, especially not to show frustration at her, but the throbbing starting in his lower region was making it hard to fully concentrate on his emotions.

All he heard was her gasp, fearing she’d seen the arousal in his night trousers but when he looked up, all Sebastian saw was the girl cautiously clutching her hair trying to make sense of his words.

Closing his eyes, he ran his hand over his face. Why was he such an idiot? She probably thought him some sort of delinquent. She probably hated him. She-

She had turned her body to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder when he opened his eyes.

“Bash” her timid tone called out and all he could muster upon having her so close was an eyebrow raise to acknowledge he heard her speak.

What if I don’t want you to behave like a gentleman?

Sebastian wasn’t sure he heard her correctly or if he was about to wake up from another one of those wet deans where he stained his sheets dreaming about being buried inside her.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for” he reasoned, knowing how innocent in many regards she seemed. It wouldn’t surprise him if no one had explained the marital act to her at all.

Instead of replying she simply inched closer until she was directly in front of him. Sebastian anticipated her to stop but when she cautiously climbed on his lap his breathing stopped. He kept his hand firmly planted at his sides as she settled herself atop him, her hands resting on his shoulders for support.

“I do know what you’re referring to,” she said bluntly and her boldness made him question just how much he might know of her. Behind those innocent gazes perhaps she’d been a temptress this whole time and he was just to blind by his affections to notice.

He hadn’t realized she had lifted one of his hands until he saw her concentrated expression examining his right hand up close. She studied the calloused skin of his palm before placing his open hand along her waist. Suddenly he felt the warmth of her skin through the silk nightgown along with the beautiful dip of her curves that laid underneath.

“I thought, but you-“ he couldn’t think of an intelligent response as she looked at his face. This led to the both of them staring at one another in silence as he kept his hand firmly planted where she’d left it.

Leaning forward she placed her fingers lightly on his chin, noting the stubble growing from his face as she traced over it. He’d shaved it in the morning but she always enjoyed seeing the small, dark hairs when he stayed with her after nightmares.

“If I ask you to kiss me, are you going to run away Sebastian?” She asked him while continuing to trace her fingertips over his face in the areas his facial hair had started to grow.

Sebastian didn’t reply as his hand finally tightened and curved over her waist. Lifting the other, he placed it on her cheek gently as he let his eyes move to her own.

“Are you sure? If I’m honest I don’t think I can ever let things go back to normal if we do that” he admitted to her with a sigh.

Of course he wanted her. Wanted to be with her. Wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lay with her. But if this was just some Christmas Eve fun that never would go anywhere he couldn’t stomach it.

Instead of replying she simply leaned forward into his hand, smiling to herself as she felt the warmth of his palm against her skin. Sebastian took a shaky inhale at realizing she was signaling he could go ahead while she looked at him through her heavy lidded lashes.

Exhaling gently he leaned forward just enough to ever so softly press his lips to hers.

He could hear the way she inhaled sharply through her nose before he felt the slight pressure of her returning the kiss. It was cautious. Unsure. But still she continued to press on physically and metaphorically.

Sebastian let out a groan as he felt one of her hands tighten in his dark hair, her fingers weaving in and out of the locks along his sensitive nape. In response he pulled her closer to him by the hands firmly planted on her waist and cheek.

Feeling herself more tightly wrapped in his embrace she gained more confidence in the movements, shifting on his lap ever so slightly and letting out a gasp and breaking the kiss when she felt that beautiful ache between her legs at pressing upon his hard thigh.

She had touched herself before, sometimes rutting into a pillow to find relief, but to use the boys thigh in seeking that feeling once more she felt electrified.

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel the full extent of the throbbing in his pants, when he realized she was humping his thigh to get off. The girl he assumed knew little, quickly proving him wrong as her gasps and sighs carved into his neck.

“Hey..” he told her, moving his hand down to her hip to still her movement for a brief moment as she removed her blush covered face from the privacy of his neck.

“I need some guidance on where exactly this is headed” he asked her.

“You’ve always rushed unto everything with no plan before. Why do you need one now?” She retorted one more trying to find the friction she desired on his lap.

Sebastian let out a soft groan as her center moved over his erection and he paused as he considered her words.

“That’s different… I don’t want to be disrespectful or hurt you. I have read that sometimes intercourse can be painful for the woman and I would never want to cause you harm” he explained and she rolled her eyes, catching him off guard with her frustration.

“I’m not made of glass Seb” she told him before aggressively beginning to kiss the side of his neck. Teeth nipping, lips sucking and tongue soothing the skin as she once again resumed rutting her hips.

“But-“

“Oh Merlin, would you just let me do it” she said frustratingly as she pushed his shoulders back until he fell on the bed, as she crawled over top of his shocked form.

Sebastian barely had a chance to get a word in before she was unbuttoning his sleep shirt. He didn’t say anything as he helped her slip it down his arms upon undoing the buttons.

“Do you want me?” She asked him curtly as she looked down at his half naked form with a surprised gaze.

“I - of course “ he told her.

“Then act like it, Sallow.” She told him and suddenly like a fuse had been lit, Sebastian flipped the girl onto her back and started kissing her shoulders and collarbones with vigor. He hadn’t even realized that as he flipped her over he had pulled her nightgown down significantly but he brushed it aside as he kissed her body.

She grew warm at how suddenly the reservations left him body and he responded so well to her noises and gasps. Sebastian seemed to so easily locate all those spots that made her feel weak as he kept kissing her body.

Soon he was reaching for the ties holding up her nightclothes and she leaned up to help him remove it. As her fingers moved to undo the latches he grumpily pushed her hand aside to do it himself.

“Been wanting to unwrap you like a gift for so long now. I want to do it on my own,” he gritted out against the shell of her ear before removing the top of her dress, pulling it up and over her body and tossing it onto the floor.

As she shivered from the draft in the room, Sebastian looked down and realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He assumed that even though she lacked a camisole she at the very least would have breeches, but no. She was fully naked as she lay underneath him.

“You sneaky little witch planned this didn’t you” he gritted out as he leaned down to take one of her pert little nipples in his mouth, groaning at the sweet taste of her skin along his tongue.

“I had hoped it could be a possibility…” she said through a whine as he flicked her now erect nipple with his tongue before moving to the other one.

When he successfully gave it the same attention he release it with a pop as he looked back up at her face hungrily.

“So that innocent routine was just an act?” He asked her as he moved back up her body and leaned his weight down on her. She could finally feel his arousal through his pajama pants and she shivered as he used his free hand to trace down her torso.

“Tell me what you hoped for… did you hope I would kiss you…” he trailed off kissing her now severely flushed skin before pulling back to look up at her through his thick lashes as he kept teasing. “Did you hope I would… touch you here?” Sebastian asked as he ran his fingertips ever so gently over the skin of her chest.

His index finger moved down painfully slow until it was right at the base of her opening and he looked into her eyes intently as he breached her walls with his finger, smiling as he asked “did you hope I would enter you here?”

Sebastian only brought his finger back out slowly as she whimpered at the loss of the stretch that she’d felt around his knuckles and upon hearing the noise he shoved it back in again causing her eyes to go wide as she clung to the quilt.

Shoving another finger alongside it, he continued to work her open so she’d be able to take him with ease. Curling his fingers and scissoring them within her, he took his time appreciating every noise she made and every pull her body made on his appendages.

He wasn’t done teasing the girl yet because just when she was nearing an orgasm he pulled his hand away to look at her exasperated expression with a grin as he shoved the soaked digits into his mouth and licked them clean.

“Well?” He asked her and she remembered vaguely he had asked her what she had hoped for.

“I wanted you to… be inside of me…” she admitted somewhat ashamed and he chuckled at her relapse into innocence.

“My fingers?” He eased as he brought them close to her opening once more before changing his mind and grabbing her hand from where it was still clutching the quilt and bringing it over his arousal before asking “or my cock?”

“Your… cock…” she said as if she was out of breath and he smiled down at her, suddenly breaking the trance he’d been in and softly stroking her messy hair away from her face as he laid down next to her.

“You sweet, darling girl” he cooed as he pulled her into his frame. “You may have whatever you desire” he told her before leaning up to passionately but delicately kiss her once more.

She carefully reached for the tie on his sleep pants as she undid the knot and pushed them off his hips. Sebastian reached down to loosen his breeches and pushed them off his body to assist her before maneuvering his way between her open knees, laying over her.

“I’m sorry if I got carried away…” he admitted, realizing that his brash actions may not have been what she wanted.

“Don’t be. I found it to be… quite stirring” she admitted and he laughed at her choice words. Caressing her cheek he leaned down to kiss the skin between her eyebrows before pulling back.

“We do this at your pace. Promise you’ll let me know if it stings” he asked her and she nodded, brushing off the concerns as she reached for his cock, only to have him palm his manhood with a slight groan as he shook his head.

“I mean it. I don’t want to hurt you.” He told her sternly and she looked up at his concern laced brow.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine-“ she said as she finally unwrapped his hand from his manhood, finally getting to feel the full size of him as she looked down in shock.

Sebastian was much larger than she imagined. Not that she’d ever seen one in real life before but, even from anatomical drawings she’d seen and the girlish whispers she realized he was much more endowed than she assumed.

“Oh…” she said as she looked down, losing her nerve as she saw the way his cock looked massive between their bodies and the way it pulsed under her scrutiny.

“We don’t have to do it if you are nervous” he told her as she tore her gaze from his manhood back to his face.

“I want to” she said firmly and he looked at her for any signs she was lying or feeling pressured.

“You’re sure?” He asked her gently, his thumb tracing over the skin of her chin as he held her face carefully.

“Just… go slow…” she told him, parting her legs further and reaching down to assist him.

Sebastian grunted as he felt her lining his head up with her opening and once he could feel they were properly aligned he let go of her chin to reach for her hand, holding it in his own as he encouraged her to look up.

“Look at me, don’t worry about what is going on down there alright? Just look into my eyes…” he offered and she nodded, pulling her gaze directly into his own as he ever so slightly pushed his hips forward.

Everything went okay for a few moments until her breath hitched and he paused, not tearing his eyes from hers as he stopped pressing in. When she looked as if she adjusted, he continued until the entirety of his head was inside of her, pausing once more.

He couldn’t help but sigh as he sunk into her, enjoying the warmth of her body around him as he parted her. Every so often he’d stop and ask if she was okay to keep going and she never told him it hurt but he could definitely see the discomfort at the new and what he imagined, intrusive, feeling.

However for him… it was like coming home, to a place he’d never known was so wonderful. Her body eventually opened up and accepted all of him and he found his mound of dark curls pressed against her own, slightly more manicured patch of hair atop her womanhood.

He could feel the press of her hip bones on his as he laid there, waiting for her to adjust to the fullness of his length within her body. Sebastian almost felt amazed at where it all had gone, as she was so small in comparison to him and he knew his cock well exceeded his classmates from their time sharing dorms and bathrooms.

“Do you think you’re ready for me to move?” He asked her with the softest tone he could muster despite feeling like he was going to burst free at any second.

“You’ll be gentle?” She asked timidly and he almost removed himself entirely at the tone she asked him with.

“I promise. I don’t want you to be in pain. Does it hurt now?” He asked her, not wanting to know the answer but needing to have it regardless.

“It’s moreso just… pressure? Maybe moving will help” she offered as an explanation and he nodded, ever so carefully pulling his hips back before slowly sliding back inside once more at a snail like pace.

Eventually his movements became more comfortable, confident, and controlled - as well as slightly faster.

At first her face scrunched up as she closed her eyes but after a moment she seemed to relax her eyebrows as her mouth fell open. Sebastian watched her reactions intently as she gave herself over to him.

Somehow he moved to an angle causing a pleasured noise to spill from her lips and he felt himself twitch knowing that she was slowly starting to feel good.

“Hey, I like seeing those pretty eyes Love” he said gently as he nudged her nose with his own, causing her to open them once more and blush up at him as he continued to press within her.

“There you are… so incredibly beautiful. You are an angel…” he whispered as he picked up the pace but kept his tone soft.

His words and his moments caused her to feel a stirring in her stomach that was similar to when she rode highwing and she would dive low.

“Sebastian…” She sighed his name as a mantra while she reached up to hold his cheek in her hand, the other curled around into his hair.

“My gorgeous witch… so lovely inside and out…” he continued to praise her as her eyes grew glassy at his sweet words and without thinking a tear rolled out of the corner of her eye, his thumb moving to catch it the second he spotted it.

“Did I hurt you-“ he quickly asked but she stopped him by leaning up to kiss him, her hips rising to meet his shallow moments as he groaned.

Pulling away she continued to hold him close as she whispered

I love you Sebastian Sallow…

Hearing her call his name like that, and saying she loved him, caused him to stutter in his movements and his cock begin to angrily throb looking for that final push of release.

He moved his hips much faster against hers as he leaned down and groaned out, “I - love you too… so much… uhhh fuck… need to… finish… where” he struggled to choke out as he kept his momentum while driving into her.

Realizing she was likely much further behind he had the foresight to lean his hand down and start playing with her nub, causing her back to raise sharply as she whimpered and clawed at his back.

“Need to pull, out-“ he grunted and she shook her head violently beneath him.

“No. Please. Don’t -“ she said through a loud sob, her body beginning to clench around him as she looked up at him fiercely saying “please finish inside…” she begged.

He didn’t need to ask twice after she gave him permission. Pushing harshly on her clit, she came with a scream and with that, her body pulled his cock so tightly that he followed.

As her body milked him for every drop he had he couldn’t help but feel the strong sense of pride running through his mind as he flooded her with his seed. He looked down watching her wide eyed expression as he continued to pump his load deep within her body, only slowing once he ran out of stamina before he collapsed on top of her.

Sebastian was spent as he laid on top of her chest, his face pressed against her sweaty skin and he slowly began trailing butterfly kisses across her neck at the same moment he felt her brushing his hair off his forehead to do the same.

Suddenly he heard the clock chime loudly in the main room, signaling midnight and he removed himself from the crook of her neck as he softened within her, his spill slipping out of her and between their thighs. It felt so overwhelmingly perfect and then he realized something.

“Happy Christmas” he whispered as he tucked her hair behind her ear and she looked up at him slowly realizing that he was indeed correct and they had made love on Christmas Eve through the official start of the day itself.

“Happy Christmas Sebastian…” she said, her voice slightly hoarse from the screech she’d let out and he leaned down to kiss her once more before pulling her body into his, neglecting the mess between them.

“Well, I for one think this Christmas is already off to the best start imaginable” he admitted before pecking her forehead and he smiled when she laughed, the chuckle causing both their bodies to shake.

“Of course you’d say that”

“What? I’ve got the girl I love in my arms. What more can a man want?” He asked her and he looked down just in time to see her face turn up to meet his.

“You love me?” She asked softly and suddenly it was his turn to chuckle.

“I think that what we just did goes to show that but yes, I do love you. Terribly so.” He admitted as he brought her closer into his arms.

“I love you too” she told him as he smiled, his eyes starting to grow heavy.

“I heard you the first time… although if you feel so inclined to repeat it, I can guarantee that’s not the sort of thing one grows tired of hearing” he told her as he drifted off to sleep holding her in his arms thinking about how much more pleasurable this was than going to sleep with dragon pox on Christmas.

THE END