#thoughts three hours before 3pm

[that-one-moth]

Mega big epic goober art about the autistic hyper fixation. And mega big epic goober help (he carried me) from @windoseangel .

[oceantornadoo]

rose scented scrubs

ex-husband Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x f!reader

the post-divorce love confession fic of my dreams, word count 5.5k

ps I know Dana said it was her last shift in one of the episodes but idc deal with it I had to write her.

-

It was a few hours into your book when you realized you’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It had been the first cafe to catch your eye, advertising a yummy pastry you’d been aching to try on a beautiful late Saturday morning. Only after you’d noticed the fourth person in scrubs at the counter did you realize your mistake. The cafe had two entrances - one on the busy street you came in on, the other right outside of Pittsburg Medical Center.

Current workplace of your ex-husband.

You hadn't been near the hospital in months. When you'd been married (the past tense of it a hard pill to swallow, let alone think), you would drive by the hospital on your way to work, leaving early so you could stop by and get a kiss from the man who'd already been up since 5am. After the papers were signed, ink dried and heart broken, you told yourself to revel in those extra twenty minutes of sleep. Now you could drive straight to work, no pit stop needed, and all you had to give up was your marriage.

An almost-kid in black scrubs burst through the door, scanning his phone like his life depended on it. With his flustered expression, he looked like the stereotype of a country boy losing his way in the big city. You checked the clock - 3pm. A little over halfway into the usual twelve-hour shift from 7 to 7. The knowledge sprang up unbidden, carved into your brain by how long you’d lived and breathed it. “Hello! Can I get one black coffee, no cream or sugar, two lattes, regular milk…” he ended with a total of ten drinks, an amount the barista behind the counter barely seemed flustered by. At least for one of them, it wasn’t their first day on the job. He ended up near your chair and the urge to ask was too great, desperation clawing its way out of your throat.

“Are they making the interns get drinks now?” You quip, immediately cursing yourself. There was absolutely no reason to interact, who knows if he’s even in Robby’s department, why- “Yeah, actually. We had a pretty rough time last month, so the admin staff is giving us a new food and drink stipend instead of more staff.” He laughs to himself before remembering that you're a stranger, his cheeks apple red. “Are you a doctor?” He asks. Now it just sounded creepy if you said no, but there was absolutely no chance you could say yes. “No, but I’ve got friends at the hospital.” Friends being Dana, who forces you into monthly mental health check ins where she stares at you until you cry.

“Who’s your friend? If you want, you could stop by with me. I haven’t memorized her name yet, well it’s only my first month, but the front desk worker is super nice, especially since the ER is slow right now.” You gulp at the pit (figurative, not literal) that you’ve dug yourself into. Of course you had to talk to the ER intern. It couldn’t have been Peds, where they’d invite you to say hi to cute babies from the NICU glass? You’ve done it once or twice, bored of waiting on Robby and making friends with all the nurses.

You open to give your refusal and apologies but get interrupted by the barista shouting “Dennis!” Three containers of drinks appear out of nowhere, and you can’t help but cringe at how Dennis has no way to carry them all. He’s currently attempting to balance one on top of the other, and your duty as a Good Samaritan suddenly becomes clear. The thought of seeing Dana, and perhaps Collins or McKay if you’re lucky, makes your heart swell. Robby will be easy to avoid if you stay vigilant. Tucking your book into your tote, you stand and prepare yourself for battle. It’s easy to make your way to Dennis, who looks like a circus performer, and grab two of the drink trays. “C’mon, kid. Let’s caffeinate these people.”

It feels like a dream you’ve dreamt a thousand times. Walking into the ER, looking fabulous with your makeup just right and your best perfume on. Dropping off a sick friend and running into Robby, stunning him with your six-month post-divorce glow up. Or maybe it’s a year later and you bring in an injured and scandalously younger boyfriend to show him what he’s missing. After those dreams, you always wake up empty, soul heavy. In other ones, it’s you on the gurney, letting him prove to himself he can save the people he loves, that you’re not just another Adamson. A romantic revelation that would fix those last hollow months of your marriage, grief and regret heavy on his tongue but never making its way out. Those end in tears, your face wet when you wake.

You’d never imagined this - your best weekend leggings and your favorite tote swinging from your shoulder as you follow in what has to be Robby's baby intern. You nod at the woman behind the counter, a new person you don’t know. She seems about to stop you from going in but then you hear a clear voice yell your name. So much for an in and out mission.

McKay greeted you with a warm smile, taking one of the drink trays from you as she nudges your shoulder. “Long time no see!” Her friendly tone makes you ache with regret. You’ve kept up with Dana only because she forced her way into your new, solitary life. It felt uncouth to reach out to McKay or Collins, like it would seem a ploy to get back to Robby. Shame ruins through your veins at your actions, or lack thereof. “Hey, I’m sorry for the ghosting. Been going through some stuff. I like your new bangs!” She doesn’t let you distract her, brows staying knitted at your second sentence. For once, you hate how determined she can be, her maternal instincts knowing no bounds. “What stuff?” McKay pulls you off the side, ignoring the drinks in both of your hands that are definitely in demand.

“Well, I’m sure you already know.” You roll your shoulder forward to emphasize your point. It’s pretty clear what you’re talking about, but the word ‘divorce’ feels too ugly to mention between you two. She doesn’t seem to get the memo, looking you up and down like she’s expecting the answer to pop out of the sweater you’re wearing. “I don’t get paid enough for you to waste my time being all facetious.” You snort, but the anticipation of your next words sobers you quickly. “Moving out, finding a new place, all the paperwork. It’s been a lot, but I should’ve kept up and I’m sorry.” Her lips purse in confusion. There’s a strain around her shoulders and you hate that this talk might be causing it, probably reminding her of her own divorce. “Did something happen at your old apartment? We don’t talk personal lives too much, but Robby would’ve mentioned a flood or something. Or did you guys finally get a bigger place?” The thought of that lightens her eyes, a rare smile you don’t see too much in the ER. Your heart sinks.

Robby didn’t tell her.

Of course, he left the hard stuff to you, once again. “Cass…” you trail off, unsure how to continue. Once again, you’re saved by an interruption. “What are you doing, robbing my best staff and not saying hi?” Dana appears, her short white-blond hair framing her face like a stern angel. You’ve haven’t seen her in a month and a half since she took some time off to deal with personal stuff after a particularly rough shift. She’s never been a big texter, so you anticipated more information at your future catch up, planned for next week. “I ran into one of the interns looking lost in the cafe over and simply had to help.” You tease. Your eyes meet hers but immediately look over her head, searching for him. Wherever she goes, he’s not far behind, always paying his dues in following her wisdom.

“He’s in Trauma 1, helping a drowning victim.” Fuck, you’re caught. Dana smirks at you like she’s inside your head. McKay’s eyes twinkle like there’s something romantic about to happen and you mourn the fact you’re about to give her yet another reason to not believe in a man, again. “I wasn’t looking for him, I was looking for Collins.” You bite, ignoring how McKay’s confusion has reached an all time high to your right. To distract them both, you push the drink tray forward. “I think there’s a hazelnut latte somewhere in here for you, Ms. Busybody.” Dana narrows her eyes as she finds the drink you’re talking about, plucking it out with precision. One drink down, three to go and then you can leave. That intern, Dennis, is nowhere to be found. You’d leave the drinks on the desk, but you know that would be a hazard in so many ways. Plus, some person would probably grab a drink that’s not theirs and you can’t be responsible for pandemonium - you know what lack of caffeine can do to a healthcare worker. Thankfully, the white lids read their contents: black coffee, hot tea, and…hot chocolate? Maybe there’s a kid who needed some comfort.

“Do you know who the rest are for?” You question. Dana shrugs and you can sense some ulterior motive behind her eyes. “Sounds like a question for Whittaker.” That must be Dennis. In the crowd of gurneys and scrubs, you can’t seem to find him. “The hot tea is for Collins and the hot chocolate is for Javadi, one of the interns. Of course, you know who the black coffee is for.” Double fuck.

You had hoped it was someone else who had a taste for black sludge, but unfortunately only one doctor does. Cowardly, you turn to McKay and give her your best try of puppy dog eyes. “Do you mind passing these out?” She snorts, clearly amused. “As if I’m getting between you and Robby mid shift. I remember last October all too well.” You stiffen at the memory. Surprising the staff with pumpkin cookies you’d baked, shrieking when Robby had grabbed you by the hips and ordered you into an unused storage room. How McKay had opened the door (“looking for supplies, I swear I did not want to see any of that”) with your hand in your husband’s scrubs and your leg, chilly in a skirt for easy access, wrapped around his waist.

“I see Collins. It was nice seeing you, McKay.” It’s a rude goodbye, but you can’t stomach anything more. Collins’ signature red jacket is easy to spot as she comes out of one of the nearby rooms, conferring sternly with what seems to be another intern. They just keep multiplying.

“Like I told you, you wait for my instructions, you don’t just intubate because-“ Your eyes catch and the emotional weight around your shoulders sags a bit more. She sends the intern off with one more warning before greeting you with a slight smile. “I heard you needed a hot tea.” You brandish the drink tray like a shield. She takes the cup delicately, taking a small sip and sighing in delight. “I haven’t seen you in six months. Work trip or something? Robby’s been worse than usual.” He didn’t tell her either. It’s starting to look like the only people who know about your divorce are you, Robby, and Dana. It begs the question why, but you’re not strong enough to answer. You know Collins would be a good person to confide in, but you don’t want to drop a bomb on what looks like an exhausting day. Her outward mask might be tough, but once you got over the awkwardness of her being Robby’s long-ago fling, you’ve always been able to see right through it.

“Something like that. You okay?” You move her off to the side before she can get swept into another case. She gives you another one of those barely-there smiles, and you ache to think that she’s been struggling with something, maybe worse than you. Maybe she sees something reflected back, because in a rare move, she opens up. “I had a miscarriage a month ago.” On instinct, you find an empty chair to set the drink tray on before sweeping her in your arms. She doesn’t like to be touched by many, especially at work, but she makes an exception for you.

“Oh, Heather.” It’s all you can say. She doesn’t cry, too battle worn and aware of the eyes on her, but the breath she takes is a near thing. After a few seconds, she pulls back, tight lipped and eyes shining. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there, but this isn’t about me. Oh, honey.” You murmur. You squeeze her hand, trying to impress on her all the things you cannot say. Heather Collins doesn’t like empty platitudes, so you don’t try to give her any. For a second, she squeezes your hand back before her mask slides back into place. “Thank you. Robby’s been kind, let me go home early the day it happened and pick the best shifts. It seems he kept it secret, so I’m thankful.” You don’t mention that the last time you talked to him was six months ago in a lawyers office. You know Robby and even if you were still together, he would’ve taken this secret to the grave. One of the things you love about him.

She switches the topic to you, asking about your supposed trip, but a miracle, or rather a group of interns, rumbles past you. You might not be a doctor but they’re easy to spot, unsure or overconfident, spilling unhelpful advice like gospel. “Hey! Any of you Javadi?” You call out. The girl nearest you whips her head around like you just cursed her name. She looks barely past college, hair pulled back into a ponytail of midnight black. “Me. I- that’s me.” You bend down, plucking the hot chocolate out of its tray and handing it to her. Her eyes are bright and thankful, like it's a winning lottery ticket instead of a drink. “Thank you! I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, Doctor…”

“Robby!” The middle intern says, her posture stiff with self-confidence. “Um…” you trail off, looking to Collins for help before remembering she doesn’t know. “I heard Princess and Perlah talking. You’re Robby’s wife, right?” All you can do is gape at the gall of her, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Collins restrains a laugh, unhelpful, and the other interns are looking at you like you’ve hung the stars. What in the world do you-

“Indeed. Last time I checked, this was a hospital to learn, not gossip. Keep it moving, you three.” His voice is like melted honey, warm and gooey and too comforting to name. Collins mentions something about a patient, taking her leave with raised eyebrows. It’s hard, but you try not to acknowledge the voice behind you as you watch her walk away. Only when her red jacket disappears from view do you turn.

He doesn’t look good. It’s what you said you wanted, of course, but the truth is, you’re just concerned. There’s dark circles under his eyes, almost covered by those black rounded glasses of his. A few new grays grace the side of his head, stark against the rest of him. The wrinkles on his face make him look aged, not the wise wizard you forced him to be for Halloween a few years ago. His scruffy beard dots his jawline and the ache to feel it is so deep, you fear it’ll never leave.

“Hi.” You whisper shyly, a knock-kneed girl instead of the woman you are. He smiles that gentle smile of his, crow's feet unapologetic, and it seems to turn back time. Just yesterday, you might’ve been making dinner together or cuddling on the couch. “Hi. I heard you’ve got a drink for me?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you point to the chair in between you. Deft fingers find his cup and pull. It’s hard not to watch them work, not to trace the calluses and the nimble movements. “Since when do interns order you around?” He asks, taking a second to gulp down his coffee. You stare at the movement of his throat, so many dirty memories making themselves known in the back of your head. “I’ve been demoted, I guess.” It didn’t mean to come out like that but it’s clear that’s what he thinks, a sudden frown appearing on his face.

“Is something wrong? Some paperwork I need to sign?” He asks in a burst. Your stomach churns at the rejection and instinctively, you take a step back. He seems to try to follow you, but the leg of the chair stops him. “No, I just - It’s funny, I guess. I was at that new cafe across the street and ran into an intern who looked like he needed help and well, I figured it would be nice to see Cassie and Heather, so here I am.” You end your rant with a shrug, instantly regretting every decision that led you here. Of course you were going to run into him. There wasn’t any other path, not for you. And of course, he just thinks you’re here for paperwork. He’s clearly moved on, even if he looks like he’s hurting. It’s time you do to.

“Well, that’s all my drinks, so…” Trailing off, you look around desperately for help. The Pitt seems to be against you, everyone following their standard practice of leaving you two alone when all you want is to be away from him. “How are you?” He whispers like a secret, voice raspy but sure. Emotion swells in your sternum instantly at his question. Soft eyes take your awkwardness in stride as he steps around the chair until he’s on your left, back to the Pitt. The familiarity of it is like a bullet to chest. “I’m fine. You?”

Robby shrugs, letting you trace the lines of his shoulders under that familiar sweatshirt. "Rough couple of months, to be honest." You blink at his honesty. That same honesty that led to that fateful conversation - you'd served him the divorce papers, but he was the one to suggest lawyers and due process. The papers were meant to wake him up, make him realize how much he needed to fix this, but all they did was end things.

"I wanted to see you. Dana wouldn't give me your new address, something about not being ready. Plus, I think you blocked me," he laughs at himself like it's funny, what he's admitting. A thousand questions form, 'why' and 'when' and 'what'. You'd blocked him and deleted his number the moment the papers finalized, knowing you weren't strong enough to truly recover if you could talk to him. It looks like he didn't do the same, and a rare burst of hope shines through the fog that's made itself at home in your brain. You gape, no words coming to you.

One of those hands, strong and capable and not yours, raises to push his glasses up his nose. You freeze.

It's still there.

Three years ago, ring shopping to find a perfect band. He got a black plastic version as well, something he could wear to work without worrying about blood or a rogue patient. That same black band still graces his ring finger, a blaring alarm that things aren't what they seemed.

"Michael." There's nothing else to add, your eyes still trained on his hand. Of course, all-seeing as he is, he picks up on what you're looking at right away. He's quiet, face worn with contemplation. "Why?" You ask, voice wavering. Tears form in an instant, choking any air in your lungs. "I couldn't take it off," he admits, somber. You think of your own ring, tucked away in your new bedstand that you had to build yourself. "I don't understand," you rasp.

"Baby, I've been-"

"Robby, we need you!" A voice breaks through the bubble you're in. Without realizing, you've become almost nose-to-nose, curling your hands to your chest in an attempt to not touch him. He sighs, pulling back a little, and it's like losing the warmth of the sun. "You know where the staff lounge is?" He asks, smiling when you nod immediately. "Wait for me. I'll be there soon." He hands you his coffee and rips himself away, already reaching for a hand sanitizer station.

-

In the staff lounge, your book sits unopened on the table. It's hard to do when your mind won't stop whirling, wondering if you've gotten this all wrong. The door bursts open and you snap up, hopeful, only to shrink a little when you realize it's not him. You recover quickly, not wanting to seem rude in a place you're not supposed to be in. "Hi, Kiara." You've only met her once or twice, but she's the kind of comforting soul you'd remember. She gives you a smile and then beelines for the electric kettle in the back. "Mrs. Robby, how are you?" You gulp at her question, realizing your ex-husband truly told no one about his divorce. "I've been better, but nothing I can't handle. You?" It's hard not to be honest when she's so easy to talk to, pulling out a chair for her to wait for her kettle. "One of those days. A mother just lost her child, so I'm making her a hot tea." Despite the dark news, the tight-lipped smile she sends you seems genuine. You ask about the ER overall and she tells you about the mass-casualty event that happened last month. You know a bit from Jake's mom, checking in on him through her instead of wanting to bother a grieving teenager who'd already been frustrated about the divorce.

As the kettle finishes, the door bangs open again. This time it is Robby, who looks flustered but sends you a smile anyways. It's like licking a spoon of brownie batter - secretive and a little wrong, but delicious anyways. You shouldn't have waited, should've left when you could, but deep down you need your questions answered. Kiara passes him with a cup in her hands, whispering something into his ear as she leaves. "I will." Robby replies, making you frown at the secrecy. Usually, if they're discussing a patient, they'll do it in front of you without names. Whatever that was had to be personal, and you're too emotionally raw not to ask.

"What was that?" You mutter, a little unkindly. Robby takes a seat, and you push his coffee cup towards him. His knee taps yours in thanks and stays there, its presence bewildering but not unwelcome. "She told me to use the communication skills we've been talking about." A laugh bursts out of you and you regret it instantly, your knee pressing into his. "Since when do you have communication skills?" You chortle. That's one of the things he might have at work, but never in a relationship. It used to be a joke between you, how you had to pry his true feelings out of him at the beginning of your relationship, but it turned to bitter satire in the end.

A heavy hand lands on your thigh, burning its way through the thin fabric of your leggings. "I know my communication has been...lacking," you hold back a snort, "but after last month, I've been talking to Kiara. Seems like I should've been following my own advice all this time." He admits, squeezing your thigh at the end of his sentence. Wide-eyed shock works its way through your veins. He actually addressed the major reason you said you wanted a divorce. The contentment you feel is like a nugget of gold, there for you to hoard and keep safe from judgement.

"Robby, that's wonderful. I'm proud of you, really." You exclaim, finding his hand on your leg and covering it with your own. The silicone of his ring digs into your fingers, and you let it. "I like it better when you call me Michael." He confesses. His chair squeaks as he turns towards you, shifting positions until his knees bracket yours on either side. His free hand raises to cup your face, familiar fingers petting your hair and your skin.

"Why are you wearing your ring, Michael?" You blurt, the need for his answer too great to hold back. Your ex-husband sighs, leaning forward until his face is all you see. On instinct, you reach out to take off his glasses and set them on the table. He always complained they hurt his nose, so he only wears them when reading. You brush the imprint left behind, smoothing down red marks and tracing the places you used to kiss every morning.

"You're still the love of my life, sweetheart." He confesses as you stiffen. He takes the lead, guiding you out of the chair and onto the worn couch on the far side of the room. It's easier to sink into his hold here, your face and your heart in the palms of his hands. Yells echo through the door, giving you an out to slide back and interrogate.

"That's how you treat the love of your life? You barely talked to me for months, Robby. You refused to go to therapy or marriage counseling and..." What you leave unsaid is too hurtful to bare. An old insecurity that was watered by months of loneliness, Robby picking up shifts to skip out on weekends together. "And what, baby? Don't hold back now." He practically demands, tugging your legs into his lap so you're under the full force of his stare. "And you started skipping weekends with me. Taking shifts when we were supposed to go on dates. Smelling different, like perfume instead of disinfectant." You whisper the last part, staring at your hands in your lap.

He laughs. An actual laugh.

You try to push off of him, but he tugs you until all the fight drains out. "I really fucked this up, haven't I?" He states. Robby almost never swears, so the use of one makes you pay attention. "Will you stop being an asshole and tell me what you mean?" You pout, upset that your emotions are getting brushed off. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip that juts out, tucking it back until he touches your teeth. "Detergent, baby, I swear. They found some awful cheap laundry detergent for our scrubs. I had some bad luck for weeks, fluids on me every day." He reasons, but you refuse to believe it. He knows you too well, of course. Robby tilts your chin until your eyes catch on a box of Rose Detergent for Hospitals, Clinics, and More near the trash can.

"This is what I mean, Michael! This kind of shit was in my head for months but I couldn't talk to you." He sobers instantly, that constant forlorn expression of his making itself known on his face. Robby interlaces your hands, laying his in your lap. Against your will, it grounds you. "The administration had wanted me to do a post-COVID remembrance for all the workers we lost and I just couldn't. Couldn't look at you without being reminded that I lived when so many better people died. I felt like I didn't deserve our happiness, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." Only when he brushes your face do you realize it's wet. This is what you wanted for months, to hear the thoughts in his head instead of his sarcastic quips or his no-nonsense tone. This was your husband.

He held you to his chest, letting you calm down to the sound of his heartbeat. There's a compulsion under your skin, wanting to bind you two together until you don't know where you end and he begins. Ambulance sirens and pattering footsteps and shouts of pain all fade away when you work your hands through his scruffy beard, admiring the glints of silver that show here and there. "You might be a doctor, but you're an idiot." He nods, letting you curl further into him. "I don't regret divorcing you, because I am not doing your emotional labor for you." Another nod, this one shorter and more serious. "But I'm willing to try again, if you want to. The right way, where we go to counseling and actually talk." Finally, a grin. It changes his entire face, muscle and sinew rearranging into the man you once knew.

He doesn't have to answer. His kiss does it for him.

It's soft and tentative, barely there. A surge of anger sinks through you at how utterly bull-headed he's been. You push into him until his back hits the sofa, climbing him until your pelvises meet in a kiss. You pour months of resentment into your kiss and he meets you halfway, muscles under you tensing as you clash. "You asked to get lawyers." You bite his jaw as you say it, a fact you've been stewing over. "Wanted to make sure you got my money." He squeezes your ass, pulling you into him until you roll your hips over his cock, barely contained by his scrubs. This isn't the place for your first recoupling, but with how the couch is out of the way of the window over the door, and that no one seems to be looking for him, it'll do for now.

"Such a stubborn old man." You gripe, then gasp as he nips your neck. Robby lays kisses to your jaw, trailing down to your neck and sucking hard like a teenager. Broad hands urge your hips to grind, fucking yourself in his lap as you chase satisfaction. It's been so long since you've had an orgasm, every attempt reminding you of Robby. "Pretty sure you used to call me something else, baby." He mutters, one hand leaving your waist to sneak under your sweater. He finds your nipples hardened and achy, pulling one out of your bra cup and rolling it between his fingers. "I only call my husband that." You whine as your clit hits just the right angle of his clothed cock, bucking faster in his lap.

"Everyone around here knows you as my wife." He shoots back, pinching your nipple to emphasize his point. You find the crook of his neck and lay your forehead there, panting as your thighs burn with their ministrations. His hand on your waist flattens, fingers inching closer to your front but not where you need them. It's clear he's waiting for something, his thumb tracing the outline of your panties as he stays there. The longing to give in is too great.

"Please, Daddy. I need to come." You moan, not letting shame make its way into your head. You can feel him grin against you as his thumb finds your clothed clit, rubbing small circles as you keep bucking. It's what you needed, release creeping over you until you collapse in his arms. He moves his hips a few times into you until you complain of overstimulation.

"Think I just came in my pants." He mutters as you pull back. Giggles erupt from you, turning into snorts as you take in the pained expression on his face. Dr. Michael Robinavitch, coming in his pants like a teenager as his wife straddles him.

"Good thing they have scrubs. And a new rose detergent, I heard." You sass, squealing as he pinches your nipple, still cupped in his hand. He rights your clothing as you calm down, tucking your bra back in place and untwisting your leggings. "You're lucky I love you." He pecks your forehead before resting his own against it. You close your eyes in satisfaction, relieved to have filled this year-old hole in your heart. "I love you too, Michael." Your breaths mingle for a few moments, peace in the middle of the most unpeaceful place in Pittsburg.

Someone bangs on the door. Dana smirks at both of you like she predicted this was coming. "Two GSW's on the way, five minutes." You both sigh at getting caught, yet again. At least it was Dana. "Just enough time to get new scrubs." You cheer. He laughs, moving you both to a standing position before pecking your forehead again. "Put your address in my phone." He orders, fishing out his phone from where it fell into the couch cushions. "So forward, Doctor." You laugh as you type into his familiar phone. "I'll be over with takeout around 7:30, Mrs. Robinavitch." You grin.

"With your luck, it'll be 8 o'clock."

"Will you still wait?"

"Always."

-

this got away from me but wow it was necessary

[jakesimlover444]

𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 1) ౨ৎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader

☆゙ ↳ main masterlist

☆゙ ↳ prev | next

☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.

the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.

☆゙ ↳ wc: 6741

☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil bit smutty, kinda fluff (?) cursing, sexual harassment (not from heeseung), heeseung tries to touch up reader, pining, fuckboy heeseung, y/n is a virgin, a few typos…if i missed anything pls lmk!!

"okay, okay, we‘ve had monica, brittany, and mina this week alone, yeah?" karina snickers, jotting down the names of lee heeseung‘s newest side quests.

the two best friends, karina and y/n, were huddled together in their university classroom (sitting the furthest away from everybody of course), as if they were little high schoolers gossiping about who kissed who.

however, what they were doing wasn’t far from immature, childish gossip. here, they were strategizing who lee heeseung—the school‘s fuckboy—would go for next. it was like a fun little game to the girls, the excitement of seeing how right their guesses could get making them giggle every time.

although it was only the beginning of sophomore year in uni, mr. fboy heeseung had already had his way with nearly half the school, so y/n and karina knew their time would come soon. the only difference between them being karina was open to a night with heeseung. no strings attached, of course. it’s been a month since her messy breakup with her former girlfriend yunjin, and she knew heeseung was the only person who‘d give her a good night with no feelings, guaranteed.

then there was y/n. not to say she’s "not like everyone else," she does find heeseung attractive and well, a little charming—she hates the idea of being with anyone "no strings attached." and heeseung‘s version of adding strings to his puppet was dating them for a week after hooking up before inevitably ghosting them. and unfortunately for y/n, that wasn’t enough.

y/n nods at karina‘s question, holding up three fingers to represent each of heeseung‘s playthings.

"and how about abby? the blonde one with big boobs? classic bimbo," y/n inquiries quietly, "have they gotten together yet?" karina lets out a noise similar to a "pfft" before nodding her head, answering. "a few times, actually. he really likes her.." karina trails off, shaking her head.

"i just…don‘t know who else.." y/n trails off, biting her thumb in thought. "bianca martinez?" karina nods.

"yeji?" karina nods once more.

"damn—minji?" and again, karina nods.

y/n lightly palms her face in disbelief.

"i guess this one will be a surprise, hm?" jokes karina, a playful smile lingering on her lips.

y/n sighs, defeated. "guess so."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"remember, guys! tutoring begins 3pm today! if you‘re late then your extra credit points are docked!" spoke mr. glenn as class ended, reminding y/n of her duty she needed to fulfill later on today as a top student. with a groan, she stood up and grabbed her baby pink bag, lightly slinging it over her shoulder.

"oh you‘ll be having fun teaching those dumbasses.." teased karina, tickling y/n‘s side with a grin as the two girls exited class together.

"ugh, i know.." laughed y/n as karina tickled her. "i‘m gonna be stuck here for two whole hours kari.." y/n whined, pouting as she leaned her head on karina‘s shoulder, walking towards their dorm room.

"you‘ll be okay, i‘ll buy you lots of food after, hm?" karina said as she stroked y/n‘s hair, feeling her head nod against her.

a couple hours later, y/n arrived inside mr. glenn‘s dim-lit classroom, ready (but annoyed) to teach a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls who are falling behind.

coming in with a fake smile, y/n shot mr. glenn a small wave as she strutted inside the classroom confidently, sitting down at the table sectioned off to help students with english. pulling out her phone, she laid her head down, scrolling through tiktok to pass time before students came in.

and just as she predicted, a student was already approaching her table for help.

"hey, beautiful.." spoke an almost familiar voice, tone sultry and flirtatious. "wanna help me get this english grade up?"

y/n looked up from her phone to meet eyes with the boy who was seemingly so eager to get his english grade up. but when y/n saw him, her breath slightly hitched and she had to clear her throat to regain her faintly lost composure. because being face to face with lee heeseung was not what she expected.

"um..heeseung.." y/n spoke hesitantly, grabbing her english textbook. swallowing, her elegant hands flipped page through page, trying to find the section they last left on in class.

"do you need help with what we‘ve recently been doing?" y/n asked, trying to ignore that sensual expression heeseung wore on his face.

"sure." heeseung shrugs. "i haven‘t been doing much in class…" he trails off, grabbing the textbook from y/n, his soft, pale hands brushing against hers.

y/n refused to show any reaction to heeseung‘s touch, which he took note of. poor y/n, she has no idea heeseung likes a challenge.

"well i can guide you through the notes we‘ve been taking this week on literary theory and textual interpretation. it sounds pretty difficult but i can guarantee you it’s easy." y/n‘s voice remained fairly monotone and pretty professional, heeseung‘s charm starting to wear off on her. that shyness from a minute ago was no longer present.

y/n grabbed her english notebook from her bag, opening it to a page filled with notes. heeseung scoffs as y/n opens her mouth to speak, interrupting her.

"oh, you‘re cute.." he smirks, laying his hands on her page of notes, tapping up and down with his finger.

"i didn’t want you to actually teach me, my dear." his voice lowers to that of a whisper. "i have a proposal." his lips curl up into a smile in contrast to y/n‘s frown.

"which is..?" y/n questions, her tone a bit irritated. she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

"you do my work…and i‘ll pay you." heeseung speaks confidently.

"how much are we talking?" y/n asks, seemingly annoyed. but that doesn’t break heeseung‘s cocky demeanor.

"oh i‘m not talking about money, love.."

y/n can only roll her eyes at his suggestion, already knowing where this would go.

"i‘ll fuck you for every assignment you do, hm? whatever you want. there‘s nothing i haven‘t done, afterall." he slightly bites his lip, leaning back in his seat, now manspreading.

"and that’s exactly why i won‘t take up that offer…" y/n‘s voice holds a note of offense. "glad to know that’s what you think of me…" y/n rolls her eyes, completely finished putting up with heeseung‘s attitude, starting to pack her stuff up.

"oh, come on, baby. i‘m not saying you‘re a slut—i can tell you‘re a virgin. you‘re so uptight." heeseung gestures his hands towards himself. "i‘m offering you something over half the girls on campus would die for."

"heeseung, you don’t even know my name." y/n retorts, standing up to leave.

"y/n!! leaving so soon?" mr. glenn calls out, noticing y/n ready to leave.

y/n nods, telling mr. glenn she has an emergency at home. but before she walks off, heeseung grabs her wrist gently, but firm enough to turn her around, her eyes locked on his.

with a smirk heeseung says, "now i do, y/n."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

with a groan, y/n slams shut her dorm room door, back pressed against it as she let out a frustrated sigh.

"damn, they really got you so bad you had to leave early, hm?" karina teases, putting down her phone and sitting up on her purple sheeted bed.

y/n hangs her head down, a vexed smile on her face as she let out a breathy laugh, making a piece of her hair fly slightly forward. she shot karina a knowing look.

"you won‘t fucking believe who the hell i had to tutor for like—five minutes today…"

y/n threw herself down on karina‘s bed, right next to the raven-haired girl.

"who?? oh my god — was it that one guy who practically stalked you last year?" karina lets out an unbelieved laugh.

y/n shakes her head. "no..this guy was somehow almost worse." she scoots ever so slightly closer. "lee fucking heeseung.." y/n snorts as she laughs, covering her giggles with her hands as karina mimics, both of the girls laughing in disbelief.

"no way! i doubt there was much tutoring going on…" karina says behind her hand that slightly muffled her words.

y/n shakes her head. "yeah. for lack of a better word at i least 'tutored' heeseung."

y/n sits up, holding air quotes around the word tutored.

"did he say anything? like…" karina lowers her voice to a whisper as if there were other people around. "does he wanna fuck you?"

y/n‘s eyes widen and she lets out a small gasp, slightly taken aback by the question her brown-eyed best friend asked her. but she quickly fixes herself, answering, "yeah. he offered to dick me down if i did his assignments…" y/n tossed herself back-down on karina‘s soft bed, laying flat as she looked up to the blank, white ceiling, eyeing the spinning fan.

"sooo..? did you take up the offer?" karina asks with the most curious tone, laying down indirectly on top of her best friend in order to pry an answer out.

"nooo.." y/n spoke shyly. "i don’t wanna lose my virginity to an asshole fuckboy." y/n scrunches her nose, disgusted at the idea.

"well if you won’t take him…" karina then slowly pointed to herself, suggesting that she should get a piece of hee.

y/n pushes karina‘s shoulder, causing the pale woman to fall on her back. y/n sits up. "no, karina. you need to get back with yunjin…you guys broke up for a stupid ass reason. she needs to realise you weren‘t flirting with another girl, and move on. with you…"

karina slowly moves her eyes down in the direction of her phone before she picks it up, hand grasping her silver case.

"about that…" karina‘s face shows mischief before showing y/n messages between karina and yunjin.

yunjin: i miss u, rina 🙁🙁 so much.

karina: yunjin, you broke up with me, if you want me back so bad you have me…

yunjin: maybe i do. but what you did wasn’t ok, rina. i hate that stupid bitch heather and you still spoke to her

karina: baby pls…i‘ll do anything to make it up to you, i am so so sorry..

yunjin: then let me come over tonight. then maybe you could show me how sorry you really are.

karina: fine…does around 9 work?

yunjin: yeah. get y/n out of there tho. i wanna be alone.

"oh my god…rina..!" y/n said, a bit shocked. "she misses you! this is good!"

karina curls her lips up a bit. "either that or she wants some pussy tonight."

y/n playfully rolls her eyes. "which you‘ll glady give her, i assume?"

karina hesitantly nods, a smile falling from her lips.

"well, i guess i‘ll be going out tonight.." y/n gets up, going towards her vanity to take her hair out of its pink claw clip, running her cream colour brush through her soft locks.

"maybe you could help out heeseung, hm?" karina goaded y/n.

y/n turned to karina with an unamused look, still brushing her hair. "never. i have better things i could do…" y/n trailed off, her expression softening when she realises that was a total lie. she really put her academics over everything, and outside of karina had a social life of almost zero.

"we both know that’s not true, y/n," spoke karina as if she were reading y/n‘s mind.

karina scoots, now sitting on the edge of her bed. "come on, y/n—you don’t have to fuck him, but you can fuck around with him, right? it‘ll be fun!"

y/n thinks for a moment, considering karina‘s words. "but i‘m not seductive—i wouldn’t know what to do! i can’t flirt.." y/n covers her face slightly, brush still in hand.

karina snickers. "y/n, he‘s already come onto you and gotten a piece of your attitude. if he didn’t want you, would he have approached you? think about it! you don’t have to be some master of seduction to woo heeseung."

y/n removed her hands, knowing deep down karina was right.

"but…i don’t know…how do i do something like that?"

"easy." karina smirks. "remember what i did to that guy dylan?"

y/n nods, intrigued. "lead heeseung on?"

"similar to that. tonight, you head over to his dorm—look cute but not too cute to where he knows you put in that effort for him. tell him that you‘re going to take him up on his offer, come inside and do some work." karina stands up, getting really into describing her plan. "let him tease you; get bold, tease him back…let him touch you, make you feel good, but only! only you get to feel good. as soon as he thinks he‘s getting what he wants…you‘re going to get up and leave, hm? he‘ll be wondering what the hell happened…and he‘ll yearn for you evermore." karina shrugs. "the rest is up to you."

god, y/n wondered why she was suddenly so excited.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

after contacting a mutual friend she and heeseung shared, karina was able to track down where heeseung‘s dorm was, making y/n realise just how real this happening all is.

and so with a five minute walk, y/n had her hair down and pin straight, wearing a matching baby pink, tightly knit matching set, hugging her body just right, her hips swaying so perfectly as she strutted down heeseung‘s hallway in her little ugg slides. with a tiny knock on his door, y/n took little breaths to calm her nerves. *you‘re not going all the way…* she had to remember.

after a small moment, y/n was greeted with heeseung‘s delicate face, a flirtatious smile forming on his lips as his eyes wandered over her.

"so you did want to see me afterall, y/n.." heeseung gazed at y/n‘s beautiful face, she was so stunning even without makeup…just curled lashes and clear lip gloss was all she needed to sparkle.

heeseung leaned against his doorway, his biceps flexed against the frame as he gestured y/n to come in.

without reacting to any of heeseung‘s words, y/n came into heeseung‘s dorm, surprised he was alone and without his friends or a hookup laying in his bed.

she stood near his desk as heeseung strode over to her, sitting at the chair paired with his desk.

"sorry, love…i have no extra chairs." heeseung sighs in mock apology.

"it‘s okay, i‘ll just stand," y/n politely smiles, placing her off-white shoulder bag on his desk, pulling out homework material.

heeseungs tsks, gently placing his hands on y/n‘s hips, gartering her attention.

"or you could always just sit on my lap.." heeseung toyed with the hem of y/n‘s pants, but she quickly smacked his veiny hand away.

"i‘m good." she gave a smug grin when she saw heeseung‘s slightly taken aback expression. he let out a small sigh, clearly growing frustrated.

"you‘re so uptight, you know that?" heeseung leaned back, his tone not angry but teasing.

y/n turned her body to face herseung. "oh yeah?" she placed a hand on her hip with a raised brow.

"yeah. you should relax. don’t you have a vibrator or something? i heard that can help…" he snickers at her shocked reaction.

"i don’t use those things—you‘re so crude!"

"ah..so your hands aren’t doing the job right?"

y/n feels her face heat up, blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"what i do isn’t your business, heeseung."

y/n‘s voice was firm, arms now crossed.

heeseung held up his hands in a surrendering motion, his legs much more visible to show off his manspread.

"you‘re right, you‘re right. i‘m just trying to offer my word of advice to a woman in need.."

y/n rolls her eyes. "i‘m here to teach you, heeseung! keep this up and you won’t get anything." she bends down so she is eye-level with the black haired boy, her eyes meeting his clearly turned on gaze. her voice was brash, and authoritative, her finger pointing at heeseung, her acrylic fingernail poking his solid chest every few words.

heeseung slightly bit his lip once he caught a glimpse down y/n‘s tight little jacket, her cleavage in perfect view. heeseung could only swallow, trying to not make it super obvious where his eyes were locked.

and lucky for him, y/n didn’t seem to notice as she stood back up, towering over heeseung‘s sitting figure.

"sit on my lap and i‘ll be good, hm? i‘ll leave you alone my dear y/n.." heeseung speaks quietly, gently patting his thigh.

y/n hesitates, thinking about karina‘s words—to just tease…make yourself feel good, then leave when he thinks he‘s getting something…

with those words in mind, y/n slowly lowers her round ass onto heeseung‘s thigh, sitting sideways on his lap. his hands immediately gripped y/n‘s waist, slowly caressing her slim sides up and down, fingertips ever so slightly reaching under her little jacket, gliding over her soft, bear skin. she shivered, the foreign feeling of his hands on her ignited something small within her. but she shakes any thoughts of pleasure out from her head, pulling out homework material from her bag, flipping through annotated packets and mindlessly organising them, just trying to distract herself from heeseung‘s hands trailing further up her torso.

"you almost done..?" heeseung asks quietly, his warm breath against y/n as he moved her hair away from her neck, whispering against the soft skin. y/n quivered, letting go of the packets she held. y/n nodded, clearing her throat as she adjusted herself on heeseung‘s lap. she heard a low groan fall from his lips, and she spun her head around with a small gasp, not believing what her ears just heard.

"did you just…?"

"yeah..sorry.." heeseung faintly whispered, sounding like he was holding something back. "that felt nice.." heeseung squeezed y/n‘s sides placidly, like he was giving her a massage.

y/n blinked in response for a moment before she practically scoffed, her assertive facade coming back to her. "fucking horndog…" she whispers, looking heeseung up and down like he was a vermon.

heeseung‘s grip tightened, groping her sides more aggressively in response, sucking in air through his teeth. "yeahhh…just for you, babe." heeseung chuckled breathily to himself.

y/n rolls her eyes, swatting heeseung‘s arm. "and every other girl you make eye contact with. surprised you don’t have an std by now.."

heeseung faintly flinched at y/n‘s little swat, not used to a woman defying him like this. but he didn’t mind. in fact, heeseung likes a chase sometimes.

"it’s called condoms, dude. i don’t go raw on anyone," he lets out that same chuckle from earlier.

"heeseung, i really don’t care," y/n retors, smacking his head with a packet. "now are you going to let me teach you or are you going to touch me all over this whole time?"

heeseung raises a brow, locking eyes with the girl on his lap. "i thought you were doing my assignments for me, babe. remember our deal?"

y/n shakes her head. "i pride myself in my teaching abilities. and i don’t want to fuck you.."

"oh come on, y/n. you‘re almost twenty and you‘re still a virgin…why not lose it?"

"how do you know i‘m a virgin..?" y/n‘s brows furrow in confusion.

"remember earlier in mr. glenn‘s tutoring session? i can just tell. you‘re so fucking uptight."

y/n makes a face similar to disgust. "being an uptight virgin is better than being a chill fucking whore like you."

heeseung only tittered, not offended by y/n‘s remark. "you don’t wanna loosen up?" he pulled y/n closer towards his body.

"not with you…" her voice grows quiet when she feels heeseung‘s arm wrap around her waist, hand snaking down, closer towards her pussy, his fingers trailing the hem of her tight little knit flare leggings that matched her cropped jacket.

her breath hitches as her back is now pressed up against heeseung‘s firm chest, both her legs straddling his left thigh, her ass cheek pressed against his growing erection.

a soft hum leaves y/n‘s lips when heeseung‘s fingers grow braver and dip into y/n‘s pants, middle finger gently pressing down on y/n‘s clit, applying just enough pressure to form a wet patch in y/n‘s panties which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung, a smirk forming on his lips.

"you sure you don’t want my help?" heeseung snickers, his finger sliding down to feel the warm wetness in y/n‘s panties.

but y/n knew she couldn’t give in. y/n was smarter than to cave in to heeseung‘s smart talk and skilled hands. so she suppressed her moan and reluctantly grabbed heeseung‘s wrist, pulling his hand away from her pussy. she stood up and calmly grabbed her bag and packets, turning to face heeseung, who was visibly confused.

y/n could only smirk satisfactory with heeseung‘s reaction to rejection.

"clearly we aren’t on the same page, heeseung. i‘m leaving now—if you really want my help, get those hormones in check. maybe fuck a girl on your roster before seeing me." y/n politely smiles in contrast to her passive aggressive tone. and saying no more, y/n leaves heeseung‘s dorm, leaving him sitting there, absolutely dumbfounded a girl has actually rejected his advances. he watched y/n‘s figure stride away and leave before he ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling quietly to himself.

that was the first time heeseung didn’t get any action with a girl in his place, and the first time a girl seemed to hold zero attraction to him; and the very first time a girl challenged him, and made him want her more. y/n was more of a chase then heeseung thought. luckily for him he was determined, and a fast runner.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

y/n swung open the door to her dormitory, adrenaline rushing through her veins. she looked over at karina‘s bed and spotted the woman laying down with yunjin under the covers, and it was very apparent the two just slept together. she wasn’t taken aback, however. she had already knew the two would be together tonight.

y/n shook karina awake, not caring if she were naked or not. both karina and yunjin awoke, slightly startled at y/n‘s franticness. before either of the lovers could say anything, y/n spoke up.

"i did it! i did it—but there was barely any action, he sat me on his lap and tried touching my pussy but i left before much could happen!" y/n sounded a bit freaked out with a hint of excitement.

"who is she talking about..?" said yunjin groggily, rubbing her wide eyes.

"heeseung.." yawned karina. "y/n, that‘s good! you‘re probably the first girl in a long time to leave him hanging like that. best him at his own game, hm?" karina smiled, leaning up on her elbows.

y/n‘s face scrunches in slight frustration. "i know…but i‘m just..." she throws her bag down on her bed that‘s only a few feet from karina‘s.

"i‘m glad i did it…it was fun…but—i‘m just…" she sits down on her bed, looking at karina and yunjin. "i don’t know what comes next.."

yunjin and karina exchanged glances before karina speaks up. "you know what happens next?" y/n‘s face grows curious. karina continues. "you wait. you wait for him to chase you…and you‘re going to make him fall for you. and once he does…you leave him for good."

yunjin smirks. "damn karina, what‘d he do to you?"

"nothing. we‘re just bored.." karina looks back at yunjin, but there’s a hint of something beyond playfulness in her eyes.

and with that y/n went to sleep that night, unaware of just how much she had lee heeseung wrapped around her finger.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

one week later — psychology class. the only class y/n shared with lee heeseung.

y/n sat in her usual seat, putting down her bag under her feet after pulling out all her materials. she laid her tired head on her hand, analysing her notes from the last lecture.

and there was heeseung who came in early for once. he was always late (if he even decided to show up, that is), but this time he made sure he was there so he could score a spot next to the beautiful girl who left him so empty that night.

y/n was all that consumed heeseung‘s mind this past week. he didn’t want to be one to admit it, but heeseung hated how she had this effect on him all from not giving him what he wanted. his only goal in mind was to make y/n give in and fall in love with him, then run away just as he did to every other girl…because how dare this little tease leave him empty? nobody defies the lee heeseung like that.

it was only a matter of seconds before heeseung‘s eyes landed on his target. seeing y/n‘s beautiful, long hair flowing over her shoulder and her plump lips pouting in concentration, her slim legs crossed, her grey fold over leggings hugging her body perfectly, the little flare at the end hanging over her cute little winter boots that encased her bouncing feet. her little pink tank top form fitted her torso, causing her chest catch heeseung‘s attention immediately, making him think back to when he got that lovely glimpse down her top that night last week.

and with nothing else on his mind, determination set in and heeseung b-lined it towards the seat empty next to y/n, as more people started to fill the room.

y/n was slightly startled when an obstinate heeseung plopped himself down next to her, his eyes narrowed in on y/n‘s alarmed expression.

"missed me?" heeseung smirks, his voice laced with smugness.

"god you scared me…" y/n placed her hand over her heart. "but no, i didn’t miss you, heeseung."

heeseung leans in a bit closer, his big black jacket scrunching. "call me hee. everyone else does."

y/n shakes her head, her face going back to her notes. "i‘m alright, we‘re not close enough for me to give you a nickname."

heeseung scoffs, changing the subject to the point he originally wanted to talk about.

"why did you leave that night?"

y/n held back a smirk at the hint of desperation in heeseung‘s voice. the question alone enough to make her want to giggle in satisfaction.

"you were being unprofessional, heeseung. i was there to help tutor you, not have sex with you." her tone was pretty deadpan in contrast to the excitement growing inside of her at the thought heeseung was currently chasing after her.

"i could have made you feel good," heeseung says as he leans back in his chair, his hand coming up to play with strands of y/n‘s hair.

y/n ignores him, flipping through pages in her notebook.

"you‘re not any different from these other girls, you know…you‘re not special." his voice grew annoyed.

"what?" y/n turned her head to the side, her irritated expression apparent.

heeseung’s facial expression seemed satisfied at how he was getting under y/n‘s skin. "you‘re not special for not wanting me, y/n…" heeseung leans closer, his hand still on y/n‘s head. faces inches apart, heeseung‘s voice held somewhat of a threatening tone. "…because i‘ll make you want me." an intimidating smile played on heeseung‘s face, his eyes full of malice.

y/n slightly backed up, a small amount of real fear stirring in her chest.

"you‘re crazy…" her voice automatically came out a whisper, her eyes darting all around his face.

he leaned in and quickly pecked y/n‘s cheeks with his lips, his expression now softened, almost affectionate.

"only for you…" and as the psychology teacher mrs. danbury walked in, heeseung settled down along with the rest of the class, acting as if nothing happened.

y/n stayed taken a bit aback, her mind wandering off from the lesson every so often, thinking off heeseung‘s words.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

as class came to an end, heeseung stood up, standing next to y/n‘s sitting figure, and as she rose to walk out of the classroom, she was abruptly stopped by heeseung‘s tall body standing in front of her.

she didn’t need to speak. her confused face was all heeseung needed to start explaining.

"let me take you out." heeseung‘s voice was smooth.

"um…where?" y/n crossed her arms.

"there’s a little café down the street, hm? wanna go there?"

y/n thought for a moment, realising she could use this as an attempt for heeseung to truly fall for her.

"i mean…i am kinda hungry i guess." y/n shrugs, walking passed heeseung. "let’s go."

heeseung grabs y/n‘s wrist, forcing her to come back. he interlocked his fingers with hers, then continued walking.

"people are going to think we‘re a thing if you’re holding my hand…" y/n‘s eyes darted from their intertwined hands then up to heeseung, who only smirked.

"if we‘re together in general people are going to think we‘re a thing." he smirked down at the girl walking with him.

y/n rolled her eyes, "that’s not exactly what i want…i can‘t be seen as one of your little rotations."

heeseung put on a playfully hurt expression.

"that’s really all you think of me, huh? just some fuckboy?"

y/n nodded. "pretty much!" she shot him a soft smile, feigning affection.

heeseung only snickered in response, but when his own umber eyes looked into y/n‘s he couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was as the sun beamed down on her skin.

entering the café, y/n took note of the strong smell of sweets and coffee blending together in the air, the other university students sitting inside studying under the dimly lit lights, creating a cozy atmosphere, perfect for a break after a day of long, draining university classes.

"this place is so cute…" y/n looked around at the wood panel walls, the faux candles lit all around and the large bookshelf next to the entryway, adding to the library-esq vibe of the café.

heeseung smiled at y/n‘s reaction, her look of awe causing him to feel a small little butterfly in his stomach, but he quickly swatted it away.

"you‘re paying, you invited me out." y/n points at heeseung as she walked up to the register to order, him trailing not too far behind.

"yes, ma‘am," heeseung teased, pulling out his wallet.

"can i have a caramel frappuccino with tapioca pearls, please?" y/n asked in her sweet voice—sounding just like honey.

"i‘ll just have a taro milk tea." said heeseung as he pulled out his credit card.

the cashier said dryly, "that‘ll be $13.85."

and as heeseung inserted his card, y/n slyly peaked over to get a good look at it, which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung. he just let out a confused laugh. "what‘re you lookin‘ at?"

"your credit card number," replied y/n truthfully. "you said it was your goal to make me like you, and gift giving is my love language." y/n closed her eyes, placing her hands on her chest as she softly swayed her body side to side.

heeseung gently nudged y/n. "yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself."

and as their boba was ready, y/n quickly grabbed her drink, placed the baby blue straw inside and immediately took a sip, reveling in the sweet, caramel flavour going down her throat. with a satisfied mmm sound, she started walking towards the door, leaving heeseung in a state of confusion.

"where are you going?" heeseung questioned, his brow slightly raised.

"i‘m going back to the dorm. you took me out like you wanted." y/n shrugged slightly.

"you know i‘m getting real tired of asking you that." heeseung smirked, sipping his tea.

y/n only smiled facetiously. "then give me a reason to stay." and with nothing else, y/n walked out, leaving heeseung once more dumbfounded.

and heeseung didn’t like this pattern he saw forming.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

y/n didn’t walk back to her dorm, though. she was going to hang out with karina at the mall. pulling out her baby pink iphone, y/n clicked karina‘s contact to come ask her to pick her up.

"where you at hoe?" joked y/n as soon as karina picked up.

karina laughed. "at yunjin‘s dorm. i‘m leaving now. where are you?" y/n could hear rustling on the other end.

"near that little café by school—i think it’s called makoko." y/n paused to look at the street name. "i‘m working the corner of rochester street. come pick me up when i‘m done with my next client."

karina playfully rolled her eyes at y/n‘s joke, her car‘s startup engine roaring in the background. "i‘ll be there soon. split some of that cash with me, hm?"

"of course. love ya!" y/n blew a kiss to her phone and karina reciprocated.

opening up instagram to kill time, y/n stood, leaning against the wall of a building while she waited for her best friend.

scrolling mindlessly, mind lost in the depths of liking her favourite celebrities‘ posts and judging her mutuals stories, she hardly noticed a tall male figure approach her rather menacingly.

"all alone?" the deep voice startled y/n, his tone callousing and scary. y/n slightly jumped back, her eyes suspiciously scanning the man up and down. but y/n doesn’t play with scary men like this.

"no, i‘m with somebody. your scary ass can leave now." she spoke sternly, taking slow backwards steps away from the dark haired man.

"i don’t see no one," the man smirked his big lips, a look of lust shining through his eyes as he stepped intimidatingly closer to y/n, following her.

"fuck off nasty ass hoe i don’t know who you think you are because i will rock your shit if you try something!" warned y/n with a fist forming, holding it up in the air like she was going to pop him in his face.

but before the creepy man could vocalise his thoughts, another male came up from behind him and punched the side of his head, making him stumble over, a gasp of shock leaving y/n‘s mouth upon seeing not only the violent action—but the person assaulting the creep—who was…heeseung?

"heeseung wh—" y/n was going to ask him why he was here, why he was defending her—but was overpowered by his aggressive shouting at the big, now less taunting man who was harassing her only moments ago.

"who the fuck do you think you are, hm!?" hesseung yells through gritted teeth, blowing punch after punch, blow after blow onto the man who was laying on the ground, his arms over his face in a defensive manner.

"keep your hands off her and your fucking mouth shut!" heeseung was practically seething at this point, his fists nowhere but the man‘s now bloody face.

y/n wasn’t going to tell heeseung to back off the man—if anything the man deserved it. so she watched from the sidelines, patiently observing, waiting for heeseung to finish.

and for a few more moments, after punching and kicking heeseung spat on the man‘s face as if he were a flithy vermon (which in any sane person‘s mind, including heeseung, that’s what he was equivalent to.)

heeseung marched towards y/n, his face still appearing angry. he aggressively gripped

y/n‘s wrist, yanking her, forcing her to follow heeseung from behind as he angrily started walking.

"in broad fucking daylight, is he insane?"

heeseung scoffed, talking mainly to himself, but y/n could hear.

"heeseung where are you taking me?" she slightly winced at the tight grip he held on her wrist.

"back to your dorm. where i thought you were going." heeseung‘s voice was practically a growl.

"heeseung—i have a ride i was waiting for to go to the mall. i can handle myself." y/n says as she tries to yank her wrist away from heeseung, but his grip only grew tighter.

"clearly you can’t. i wonder what would have happened to you if i hadn’t stepped in, hm?"

y/n only rolls her eyes in disbelief at heeseung‘s words.

"now give me your phone." heeseung holds out his hand towards y/n, still not looking at her.

"why?" she questions, visibly hesitant.

"just—just give it to me. or i‘ll take it myself." there was no indication heeseung was kidding in his tone. so y/n handed the boy in the grey hoodie her phone after opening it, and he went straight to her calls. he clicked on someone’s name before speaking,

"karina?" his tone stayed firm. "yeah, it’s heeseung. look, you‘re the one giving y/n a ride, yeah?" he paused, letting karina respond. "‘kay. i‘m taking y/n to that park not too far from campus. the one everyone hangs out at—pick her up there. something happened she can explain to you later." and without another word, heeseung hung up before opening y/n‘s contacts, adding a number. he handed y/n back her phone, open on the page of the brand new contact.

"my number," he spoke, tone softening slightly. "just to call or text me if anything else like this happens.." heeseung‘s voice held a hint of what y/n could be mistaking as affection…but there was a little bit of something other than coldness. almost like his reasoning was some excuse. she only nodded, murmuring a thank you as they arrived at the park everyone usually hangs out, called "the hill."

heeseung sat down on a cold, metal bench, y/n sitting close to him.

he immediately cupped y/n‘s face, tilting her head in every direction possible, eyes narrowing in on her soft features like he was analysing her. before y/n could protest, he asked, "are you okay? if he laid as much as a single finger on you, y/n, i‘m promising you i‘ll go back there and kill him with my bare hands."

y/n shook her head, a bit taken aback by heeseung‘s sudden protectiveness. her dainty hands stayed with a silent grip on heeseung‘s wrists that softly held her face.

"you should have let me take you home—i should have offered…i‘m so sorry, y/n…" heeseung adverted his gaze from the girl, guilt oozing from his voice.

"it’s alright, really," y/n started with a calm voice, her thumbs rubbing soft, soothing circles on the inside of heeseung‘s wrists, "nothing happened to me." she put on a soft, comforting smile, but it quickly faded when heeseung snapped.

"because i stepped in! y/n who knows what that guy was planning!?" he takes a deep breath to calm himself, voice struggling to stay steady. "what if he hurt you, hm? i don’t…i don’t want that to happen to you." his gaze lingered on y/n, his thumbs caressing the sides of y/n‘s face he was still holding.

"since when have you…" y/n pauses, trying to find the right words. "since when have you cared like that? about anyone?"

heeseung scoffed, his tone coming out offended. "just because i like to fuck around doesn’t make me a bad person, y/n—i would have stepped in and saved any girl that was happening to." his dark brown eyes lock with y/n‘s as if he was searching for something in the pools of her irises. "but you‘re the first girl i‘d go to this length for. the first one i have gone to this length for…if you were anyone else i would have just walked away as soon as i pulled that guy off you."

"why?" was all the stunned girl could manage to get out, her brows furrowed in more curiosity than confusion.

"there’s something about you, i‘ll admit. like a magnet that pulls me in. partly because you left me hanging last week—but just…" heeseung sighs. "the way you don’t want me—it makes me want you even more."

y/n simply laughs. "is this why you‘re being so nice to me?"

heeseung nodded.

"it’s a nice try, heeseung. but you‘re going to have to try a lot harder than give me some speech you‘ve given all your other flings."

and as if she were saved by the bell, y/n saw karina‘s little white toyota pull up to the car, a small honk coming from the vehicle catching both heeseung‘s and y/n‘s attention. she removed heeseung‘s wrists from her face and stood up.

"where are you going?" heeseung wondered, a hint of what almost seemed like panic laced in his voice.

"that really is all you ask me, huh?" y/n teased before walking off towards karina‘s car.

and with another sigh, heeseung slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and slid down the bench so his neck was resting on the edge as he looked up to the blue sky.

it had only been a week since they met and this damn girl already had him wrapped around her finger.

what‘s wrong with him?

[homiesondaweb]

I headcanon that Aaron had absolutely ZERO interest in Miles when Jeff told him Rio was pregnant. He was actually pissed that his older brother was leaving the game and "getting right' for some chick and a baby. Thought Jeff was lame and didn't want part of his nephews life. You can't risk having someone close like that with the work they do. A wife, kids, hell them being siblings was too close to endangerment as it was.

But then Miles was here, and Aaron wasn't that much of an asshole to leave Jeff hanging or drowning. He was 1000% just gonna drop off some pampers, some blue onesies he snagged from GAP and some money then bounce about 3 weeks after Miles was born.

But then Jeff insisted his lil brother hold his son.

So, Aaron rolled his eyes and stiffly let Jeff adjust his hold on the baby boy, he was sleep anyway, was just gonna be a photo for Rio's cheap little flash camera.

But then Miles woke up with the cutest little-big yawn and stretch. His golden doe-like eyes wide and curious at this new face, he gives a hiccup as a greeting, smacking his baby gums and chubby lil lips.

"Uhp"

Aaron is just fucking gone, absolutely smitten, head over heels for this chubby chocolate baby with lil black curls, sunny eyes and a big ole head. It takes three hours and Rio telling him she's got to feed Miles for Aaron to finally relinquish that bébé.

He gets it. He gets wanting to get out the game. Wanting to wrap the world in cotton and bubble wrap and not even let the darkness of a nice night even glance at this Bundle of Good named Miles Alonzo Morales.

It only takes 3 month before Rio and Jeff get used to Aaron just strolling in, snagging lil homie and the diaper bag and telling them they will be back at 3pm sharp. The ridiculous amount of onesies, shits and beanies that match with something Aaron owns they receive. They get used to Aaron insist on carrying nephew like a football around the apartment before he's old enough to be tossed onto shoulder s. They get used to Miles mimicking Aaron as the man sofa-coaches though boxing matches and baseball games on the TV.

Aaron gets used to loving someone more than himself, more than the lure of blood diamonds and deity money.

Aaron isn't as good as he wants to be. And Jeff is getting too good, he applied for the graduated the police academy by the time Miles is 5. The Prowler has been active in New York for just as long.

Aaron loves Miles so much (no offense to Jeff) he's never loved someone and been loved so much that he doesn't deserve it. He can't have those golden Doe eyes look up at him or have those tiny brown hands be dirtied by his violent and grimy ones. Jeff Knows, Aaron Knows.

They don't ever get used to the riff. The distance that bother brother hate but that Jeff puts there anyway. Aaron was part of that world that Miles needed guarded from. They just hold their breaths as Miles acts like a flimsy little bridge because Aaron was too selfish to leave his life before they both got attached.

He regrets it until his last breath and last word when the last thing he sees is those Doe eyes crying for a bad guy like him.

Miles was the best of all of them, Aaron knew that from Miles beginning until his own end.

[broad-shouldrs]

Ruined || Joel Miller One Shot

pairing: solo!joel / joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2,555

summary: joel uses a sex toy

warnings: 18+, minors dni.

established relationship. unspecified age gap. m!masturbation. use of a sex toy. dirty talk. praise kink. edging. voyeurism.

a/n: taking a short break from hold on to me because this wouldn't leave my brain.

It’s quiet in the house.

The kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, humming beneath your skin like a dull, familiar ache. The sun’s just started to set, casting long gold shadows through the windows. Dust floats through the air in lazy spirals, catching the light. The house is still.

But Joel isn’t.

He sits on the edge of the bed, forearms resting on his thighs, staring ahead at nothing in particular. He’s in his head, battling between what he should do and what he wants to do. There’s a silicone sex toy on the nightstand — a fleshlight. He hasn’t picked it up, hasn’t used it. He just looks at it for a moment, jaw tight, tongue pressed into the corner of his cheek.

He had purchased the toy ages ago — long before he met you. It wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t a dare, it was an act of pure desperation. Four years of fucking nothing but his hand, craving to be inside a woman, but feeling so emotionally numb he couldn’t allow himself even a one-night stand.

While the toy offered a different feeling than his hand, it felt cold and lifeless whenever he would try to use it. So, he stashed it away, deep in his nightstand, behind overdue bills and a mess of cords. He met you three months later and hadn’t thought of the toy since. Until today.

You’ve been away at a conference. Some 10-day training halfway across the country. You’re in a different time zone and your schedule is so packed that Joel’s barely gotten a single text from you, much less been able to hear your voice.

You’re not supposed to be back in town until tomorrow. But, he’s felt on edge since he woke up.

He should’ve waited. He should’ve poured himself a drink and taken a cold shower or distracted himself with some project in the garage. Maybe called Tommy to check in. But instead he’s here. Warm skin under a thin shirt. Loose sweatpants. Nothing underneath.

He grew restless around 3pm, feeling want clawing its way under his skin.

Three hours later he still can’t shake the tension that has settled in his shoulders. His cock's been half-hard all day. Your voice is stuck in his head — playful, daring, that low murmur you use when you’re teasing him. The photo you sent yesterday didn’t help. You, in one of his worn T-shirts that hits just below your waist, fresh-faced in some hotel room. He grits his teeth and exhales through his nose.

Fuck it.

He reaches into his nightstand, finding a bottle of lube, and clicking it open, letting it spill over his fingers. He doesn’t need to work the toy open, much to his dismay, so when he slides his fingers inside, he’s doing it for functionality’s sake rather than pleasure.

Joel leans against the pillows you usually sleep on, your scent clinging faintly to the fabric, and lets his eyes fall shut.

His hand is a little shaky as he grips the waistband of his sweats and pulls them down around his thighs. His cock slips free, thick, flushed, already glistening with precome. His breath catches when the cool air hits and he’s all of a sudden too aware of the heavy heat between his legs.

The slit of the silicone toy stares back at him — open, soft, and waiting.

But he doesn’t just slide in. Not yet.

Instead, he lets the tip of his cock nudge against the entrance, not quite pushing inside. He presses into it, just enough to feel the give of the silicone, then pulls back. A low, involuntary groan slips from between his lips.

He keeps to similar movements; the swollen head of his cock kisses the slit, then withdraws. He does it again and again, each time a little harder. The soft thwap of skin on silicone echoes faintly in the quiet room.

“Shit,” he mutters, his hips twitching forward.

It feels so wrong but surprisingly good. If he jerks himself off, he doesn’t tease himself like this — not like you. His hand flexes as he changes his grip, slow and shallow, dragging the tip up and down the toy’s split without pressing inside. The slide makes everything worse in the best way possible. His cock throbs, desperate to be buried deep, to be held tight, milked and ruined, but he holds back.

“Bet you’d fuckin’ laugh if you saw me like this,” he mutters, talking to the empty room.

He groans and shifts until he’s propped up against the pillows, angling himself until the head of his cock catches inside. This time, he doesn’t stop. The silicone stretches, then parts, swallowing him inch by inch, until the thick base of him is grinding into the open end and the head of his cock is poking out the other side — slick, flushed, dripping. It’s filthy. The way his cock looks with lube smeared down the length of him, the toy flexing around every inch, and he can’t fucking stop staring at it.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

Images of you flash in his mind. Your hands. Your mouth. The little gasp you make when he pushes into you.

His hips jolt forward, instinctive and hungry, and the toy gives just enough resistance to almost make it feel real.

“Miss you,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, I miss you.”

There’s something about the helplessness of saying those words that makes him feel his age in ways he doesn’t like to admit. It’s not just sex with you, not even close. He misses the way your lips pull into a smile when he kisses you at 4am when he has to leave on a job. He misses the way your body fits perfectly against his when you’re asleep. He misses hearing his name when he kisses that spot right behind your ear that makes you fall apart.

Joel opens his eyes, and pulls off from the toy, watching as the suction pulls at him. He scrambles for his phone on the nightstand and quickly pulls up the picture you sent yesterday.

“Baby…”, he whispers. “Look at what you do to me. Fuckin’ desperate for you to take my cock.”

Joel tosses his phone on the mattress and then sinks into the toy again — harder this time but still slow. His thighs flex, abdomen tightening. Another thrust and his breath leaves in a ragged moan.

“Goddamn.”

The toy’s squelching now with each thrust of his hips. He twists his wrist just slightly on the next stroke, grinding the toy down against his groin. He can feel the need coursing through his body, can feel his nerve endings catch on fire.

“That what you want, baby?” he murmurs under his breath. “Want me to fuck you slow like this? All stretched out… beggin’ for more?”

He says it to no one. Says it to you. You’re not there — but in his head, you are. On your back, legs parted, pussy lips swollen and wet from teasing.

Joel groans and drives his hips up again, the slap of skin getting louder as he quickens his pace. He braces one hand on the mattress and lets the other keep working the toy, thrusting into it like it’s not just molded silicone but you, real and warm and throbbing around him.

He sets a rhythm. Slow grind in, faster pull back. He starts to roll his hips instead of snapping them, chasing that drag, that pressure, that almost-too-much squeeze that makes his toes curl.

“You’d take it,” he grits out, thrusting harder. “Fuck, baby, you’d take it all. Know you would.”

Joel’s breathing picks up, mouth falling open around quiet yet guttural groans. The pace is messy now. No more teasing. He’s so fucking hard it hurts.

“Look at you,” he grunts. “Makin’ a mess on my cock, baby.”

He imagines your hands fisting the sheets, your thighs shaking as he drives into you. His fist tightens on the toy, his thrusts getting sharper.

“Say it,” he pants. “Say you need it. Say you want this cock.”

He grinds up harder, thighs burning with the effort, holding himself just at the edge. He chokes on a sound, a half laugh, half groan and buries himself to the hilt, holding there, toy pressed so tight it trembles in his grip.

“Fuck. Fuck. Slow down—” he mutters to himself.

The line between fantasy and sensation blurs. All he knows is that you’re not here, and it’s not enough.

He’s soaked. His cock’s flushed red, tip shining with a mix of lube and precome as it stares back at him from the far end of the toy. His muscles are tense, twitching from holding himself back.

He forces himself to slide out slow. His chest heaves and his free hand grips into the mattress beside him, trying to anchor himself.

“Not fuckin’ yet.”

He lowers the toy again, this time just pressing the lips of it to his tip. Just small, circular strokes right against the most sensitive part of him. It makes him grunt, his hips canting upward like he can’t help it.

“That what you want, baby? Want me beggin’ to come?”

He’s so close he’s shaking.

He pushes into the toy letting it slide all the way down until he’s buried to the hilt again. The silicone clutches him tight, like it knows how bad he needs this.

“S’got nothin’ on you. Fuckin’—need to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

The confession tears out of him before he can stop it. Not dirty, just real — desperate, aching, raw.

Still, he doesn’t stop moving. He pumps into the toy with deep, dragging thrusts, letting the pressure pull him right to the edge and keep him there. It’s almost too much. And still, not enough. Still not you.

“You’d let me,” he pants, lips parted. “Let me fuck you just like this. Take my cock like such a good girl.”

His hand flexes hard around the base of the toy, pulling it tighter as he drives up into it again.

“That pretty little pussy’s so greedy for me, huh?” he breathes. “Got you drippin’ all over the fuckin’ sheets… whinin’ for me to fill you.”

His stomach tightens. “You want me to come inside you, baby?” he murmurs.

His breath is ragged now. Hair damp with sweat. The veins in his neck stand out as he thrusts into the toy.

“Yeah, you’d take it,” he growls. “You’d fuckin’ take every fuckin’ drop.”

He chokes on a moan, hips moving in sharp, desperate jerks.

He’s barely aware of the room anymore. He can’t think of anything but the searing heat building in his gut and the ache for something real.

And that’s when he hears it. Soft. Barely there. His name.

Joel.

It’s not loud. It’s not even clear. Just a whispered exhale.

His eyes squeeze shut. He groans low, thinking it’s just in his head. “Yeah,” he rasps, hips driving up. “Say my name like that…”

Then he hears it again. Not a word this time, a sound, a whimper — high, broken and real.

His eyes fly open and he turns his gaze to the bedroom door. He stiffens, chest still heaving with breath he can’t quiet. His brain’s still scrambled from the edge he was just on, from how close he came to letting go.

You’re there. Backlit by hallway light, standing frozen, your fingers tucked between your thighs beneath the hem of one of his old T-shirts.

You’d been watching. You’d been touching yourself. And now, both of you caught, there’s nowhere for either of you to hide.

You—” he starts, voice hoarse. “You’re not supposed to be here till—”

You don’t speak.

“How long’ve you been there?” he asks, voice cracking, rougher than you’ve ever heard it.

“Long enough to know you’d rather be fucking me.”

He doesn’t know what this is, this shift in the air, but it’s got him by the throat. He swallows hard as you step into the room.

“Baby,” he whispers. “Please…”

You know what he wants, what he’s asking for.

You shake your head slowly. “I want you to keep going.”

He blinks, stunned. “What?” he asks, barely audible.

You take another step, stopping just at the foot of the bed, voice steady now. He can smell your shampoo now. Feel your warmth.

“I want to see you finish.”

He groans, head tipping back into the pillows.

“It’s not the same,” he says, hips twitching. “I want you, baby. Wanna feel you on my cock.”

Your mouth curves into a wicked smile.

“I know, but I want to watch. You’ll give that to me, won’t you?”

That’s what breaks him. Not the words, not exactly. But the look in your eyes. Curious with something darker underneath.

He nods slow, mesmerized by the sight of you.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Anything for you.”

He goes to reach for the toy but finds your hand already there, wrapping around him. He lets you take it.

“Let me.”

He moans like that alone could undo him.

You start slow, sliding the toy up, then down, working him in long, wet strokes. The base of the toy presses against his groin. His cock is still poking through, swollen and slick. He jerks beneath your touch, gasping.

“Fuck, baby…”

His hands grip the sheets beside him, knuckles white. He’s twitching with every drag, his hips lifting, chasing it like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“You like that?” you whisper.

“Jesus,” he groans. “Feels good. Feels so fuckin’ good—don’t stop—”

You don’t. You keep working the toy slow and deep, dragging it almost all the way off before pushing it back down again. The noises it makes are wet and obscene.

“This what you think about when I’m gone? Me with my hand on you?”

Joel pulses in your hand.

“Or are you thinking about my mouth…or my pussy?”

He groans, broken. “All of it,” he says, gasping.

Joel’s chest heaves. “Baby,” he chokes out. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

You squeeze the toy just a little tighter and slow your pace, making him writhe.

“Please—fuck, I need it—need you—”

You lean in close, letting your breath skim his jaw. “I’m right here. Come on, baby. Let me see you come.”

And he does. His body arches, eyes rolling back as he cries out your name.

His cock jerks violently inside the toy, thick ropes of come spilling over your hand as you fuck him through it, wringing every last drop until his entire body sags.

He’s wrecked. Panting. Shaking.

And when you finally ease the toy off, his come leaks onto his stomach.

Without hesitation, you climb up onto the bed and press your head to his still heaving chest.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes. “That was…” You hum in agreement.

Five minutes go by and neither of you speak. He lets you run your hand over his chest in lazy, soothing lines until eventually, he shifts.

“Missed you so goddamn much.”

You press your lips to his collarbone and whisper, “Missed you too. When do you think you can fuck me for real?”

He swallows hard, his eyes darkening, his spent cock twitching against his thigh.

“Soon,” he promises

[winstonsns]

I love ur writing so, so, so, so, so much!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Dallas x Reader where he met reader through Ponyboy and Johnny. Like both Johnny and Ponyboy are really really close friends with reader and Dallas is curious and wants to met them and Dallas develops a little puppy crush!

Only write if ur comfortable/have time! Love ya and I’m excited to see you write more in the future! 🖤🖤🖤

can’t help falling in love (request)

authors note: i have a shit ton of requests but try to post once each day, please be patient if i haven’t gotten to yours yet! i’m so glad you like my writing, i hope you enjoy! this is my first oneshot so idk if it’s good or not LMAO 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, bob being a bitch

dally was sitting on his bed in his room, above buck’s bar when he suddenly heard a ring from the phone on his dresser. “god damn it, who the fuck could it be…” he mumbled, grumpily walking over to the phone and picking it up.

“hey, who the hell is this?” he asked, receiving a response quickly, “it’s pony. you wanna go to the drive in with me and johnny and our other friend? she’s real tuff, i’m sure you’d like her. the movie’s at 7—“

dally looked at the wall, checking the time on the clock. it was nearly 3pm, he thought for a moment before interrupting pony, “i’ll come over now, we can get some food or something before we leave for the movie.”

“see you in a bit, dallas.” he responded, dally putting down the phone and therefore ending the call. he stared at the dresser for a couple seconds before making up his mind, pulling on the drawer handle and taking a plain black shirt out, putting it over his head. he then walked to another part of his room, picking up his shoes on the floor, putting them on and grabbing his denim jacket from a hanger. he put his arms through the sleeves and walked to the door, walking downstairs, telling buck, “hey, i’m taking your car. goin’ to a friend’s house.”

he rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys from his pocket, tossing them to dally before he was on his way to pony’s house. going into the car, he wondered what you would be like, knowing you were going to the drive in with johnny and pony. as he was on the road, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about what you could look like or if he would think you’re as tuff as ponyboy thought.

by the time he was at ponyboy’s house, it was 3:30pm. he took the keys out of his car and opened the car door, closing it behind him once he got out. he walked over to the entrance of his friend’s house, opening the door since he knew it would be unlocked. “hey dally, took you long enough.” he heard someone say, recognizing it as johnny’s voice. “hey, man, how you doin’?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen where he saw johnny and ponyboy eating some chocolate cake. both of them looking at dally and nodding.

“isn’t there gonna be some broad at the drive in with you guys? what’s that about?” he asked, johnny and pony looking at each other, johnny grinning and holding his hand out to pony. he groaned and mumbled a “gotta be kiddin’ me…” and pulled a dollar out of his pocket, giving it to the dark haired boy next to him.

dally watched the whole interaction but was still confused, only after pony explained who you were, he understood the two of them had made a bet. “how have we not told you about her, man? y/n’s been our best friend for years, one of the only nice socs, we hang out like three times every week, man. have you not seen her?” pony explained, johnny answering his question and saying, “oh she’s beautiful, dallas, you’d love her.” ponyboy nodding his head, agreeing with johnny.

all three of them talked for a while in the curtis house, ranging from you, to dally almost getting put in jail again, to some fight that pony witnessed, to johnny getting beat up by a soc, then once again, back to you. time passed by quickly and before they knew it, two hours had passed, they only had an hour before they wanted to be at the drive in.

dally couldn’t keep his mind off of you, he got curious because of how highly pony and johnny spoke of you. saying you were an academic beast, the most beautiful person someone could ever meet, the funniest and best person someone would want to be around, etc. “knew each other since we were�� god, what were we? oh, i was around 7 i think, she was around 10.” pony stated, bringing dally back into the conversation after he zoned out.

the rest of the hour was spent talking about you, how you, pony and johnny met and became friends. detail by detail, dally grew more and more excited to meet you, but he tried not to show it. pony and dally continued their conversation while johnny glanced at the clock, noticing it was nearly 6:30. “hey guys, it’s close to seven. think we should start headin’ over to the drive in, yeah?” he asked, the two other boys nodding, getting up from their seats and walking out the door to the drive in.

by the time they arrived, the sky was dark even though it was still early. they looked around before getting on their knees, crawling under the fence and getting their jeans a bit dirtier than they wanted. “should be in a black mustang, i think. that’s what she has, right johnny?” pony stated, wanting to have his statement confirmed by his friend first. “yeah, pretty sure. wait— isn’t it dark blue?”

the two kept bickering back and forth, looking around even though many people were there. he glanced around, remembering how pony and johnny described your features, trying to find someone who described them. the three boys were near rows of chairs, your friends still arguing about what color your car was.

dally heard footsteps walking towards his direction and a loud voice, he recognized it as someone was yelling at another person. “god, won’t you just fucking listen to me, y/n!!? you can’t be hanging out with those— those hoods, they’ll ruin you!!” a boy with curly blond hair with an alcohol bottle in his hand yelled, dally realizing he was bob, someone that johnny had described multiple times, with his rings that cut up johnny’s face.

“look, bob. we’re not even together, why do you care so much about this? they aren’t bad people, you have to understand that!!” you argued back, trying to keep your voice steady and managing not to yell at him. even though the two of you were somewhat far away, dally lightly hit johnny’s arm and pointed at you, asking, “is that your friend?” looking back at him, seeing both of the younger boys smile.

pony and johnny started to walk towards you when he stopped them, worrying, “hey, hey… seems like she’s in an argument with that one guy over there. don’t you think we should wait?” the two of them paused, staring at you, watching you and bob continue arguing, him losing his temper and screaming at you, “you’re a fucking whore, y/n! a bitch too, leaving us for some gross hoods. what, you wanna live on the streets too, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing they didn’t really live on the streets, they just knew them better. they weren’t as fortunate as you and bob, as the socs. you continued letting him yell at you when you heard footsteps behind you, like they were from multiple people. when bob paused and looked behind you and asked, “who the hell are you? get lost.” spitting near the people behind you, you cringed and moved away from the spit and bob, looking behind you to see johnny, pony and a boy who you haven’t seen before.

the dark haired boy, who was a bit taller than pony and johnny came closer to bob’s face. asking, “why the fuck are you yelling at her, huh? you have no fucking right to do that, you piece of shit.” pushing bob’s chest, causing him to back up. he looked at you, complaining, “this ain’t worth my time,” slowly walking backwards then turning around to walk towards his friends.

dally turned around, seeing you already looking at him and smiling. “you’re dally, aren’t you? i’ve heard about you before. pony and johnny talk about you sometimes…” you added, glancing over to the two boys at the end. he responded, “yeah, it’s dally. so you’re y/n, huh? the boys talk very highly of you, it’s a big thing to meet you,” pausing, hearing you giggle, then continuing, “you’re pretty good looking, you know. should get to know each other better, yeah?” smirking when he saw you blush.

after the four of you reached the seats, you sat in a row, two behind johnny and pony. the two of you continued talking although the movie had already started, not even paying attention. you had learned dally had an insanely long criminal record while you had none, his parents were both shitty and didn’t care about him, but yours were perfect. he didn’t give a shit about school, meanwhile you would most likely be the valedictorian. but he wanted to attend school again just so he could see you.

even though the two of you didn’t notice, the movie had ended as quickly as it started. both of you kept chatting away before pony and johnny looked behind the two of you and spoke, “man, nearly everyone’s gone. i think we should all go home, right? don’t want your parents to be mad, right y/n? don’t wanna get grounded again.” johnny teased, you rolling your eyes playfully and agreeing, “yeah, we should probably get going.”

when you looked away, dally gave the two boys a look and shrugged, a gesture for, “what the hell was that for?!” so they shrugged back and got up from their seats. the three boys walked you over to your car, ponyboy asked you all, “so, what’d you guys think of the movie?”

you and dally looked at each other and grinned, he replied, “wasn’t paying attention.” and you nodded, agreeing, “yeah, i wasn’t either.” he lightly bumped your shoulder in a teasing manner, causing you to giggle. by the time you got to your car, you felt your mood start to change drastically, going from happy to a sense of sadness. you wanted to continue talking to dally, but were nervous to ask.

you fidgeted with your hands and looked worried, staring at the ground before asking dally, “can i have your number?” his face turned into a shade of red, nodding quickly and speaking, “yeah, you got a pen and paper?” you wondered for a second before stating, “maybe, let me check.” so you opened your car door slightly and frantically looking around, yet finding a pen and not a piece of paper. you grabbed it and shrugged, “i only have a pen… sorry…” feeling bad that you got your hopes up.

he took the pen from your hands, asking if you could roll up your sleeves, you nodded and he gently grabbed your arm. as he wrote his number on your arm, you looked at johnny and pony, smiling at them while they gave you a thumbs up. “this doesn’t hurt, right?” dally asked, checking up on you. you shook your head, suddenly you didn’t feel pressure on your arm and he handed the pen back to you. looking on your arm, he wrote his number and ‘dally ;)’ at the bottom.

you smiled at the little winking face, looking up at him to see him already grinning at you. you mumbled, “i think i have to go now… i don’t want my parents to be mad…” dally looked at you, nodding and stating, “i’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay? we should hang out tomorrow.” while you got into your car, putting the keys in.

dally bent down to the window and smiled, you beamed, “it was nice meeting you, dally… i hope we can figure out another time to hang out. thanks for inviting me, pony and johnny.” they smiled and said “we’ll see you later!!” and waved as you drove out of the drive in, going in the direction of your house.

watching your car with a bit of sadness, dally turned his head and mumbled, “let’s get you two home…” johnny and pony teased him the whole way back to ponyboy’s house, saying it was so obvious that he thought you were cute and was trying to flirt with you. “your eyes were basically like hearts, like in the cartoons when they fall in love!!” johnny chuckled, getting a playful hit on the back from dally.

by the time they reached the curtis house, johnny and pony said goodbye to dally, “we’ll talk to you later, dallas. don’t fuck it up with y/n, we don’t have to choose in between you and her!!” waving at him when he got into the car, driving to buck’s. as he walked into the bar, a girl walked up to him and said, “hey, you wanna go somewhere? there’s a bathroom over there,” she pointed, “maybe we could… bang?” she winked, dally made a disgusted face and said, “i have a girlfriend, dipshit.” and walked away, knowing he didn’t really have anyone romantically, but he wanted you.

when he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he was thinking about you. the way you talked, trying to keep your sweet voice in his head, the way you looked at him with interest while he talked. you had made him feel important for those two hours the both of you talked. he yearned for you, for your attention and love, but he thought he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not if it was to save his life.

when you got home and walked up to your bedroom after you took your shoes off, you smiled at the writing on your arm. walking to your vanity, you pulled out a sticky note and pencil, writing dally’s phone number with a ‘dally’ and a heart next to it, underneath the numbers themself.

you changed into your matching set of pajamas and went into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, wetting the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. you felt a lot different now than how you did with dallas, not even 30 minutes ago. you spit out the toothpaste once two minutes had passed, you wiped your mouth, turned the lights off and walked to your bed. you turned on the lamp that was on your nightstand, turning off your big light in the center of your room.

you and dally were both laying on your own beds, thinking about each other, both wondering “are they thinking about me too? there’s no way, it didn’t even seem like they liked me. maybe they were being nice.”

only johnny and pony knew, johnny had slept over at pony’s house while you called them, ranting to them about dally and how sweet he seemed, and when you hung up, they immediately got a call from the boy you were just talking about. he was talking about you, and for once seemed like he wanted something more than a short term relationship. he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care that much, but the two boys could tell.

authors note: yayyy my first oneshot!! i hope you liked it, sorry it was short!! ;3

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 5 - Sans Y Penser

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none really... mildly angsty situations, some flirting and interesting proposals.

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. HERE BE PLOT. A lot of things happen in this one afternoon. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Le Havre, September 1939

The port city of Le Havre is bustling with travellers hauling suitcases and steamer trunks, all walks of life converging on this point of exit. You weave through the crowds from the train station as a trio, headed for the bright red awnings of the company sailing to the USA. Benedict and Eloise hang back as you approach the ticket window. 

“Name?” the brusque man in the booth opens with a crisp American accent.

“Y/n y/l/n,” you smile politely.

“You are not on the manifest,” he sighs after a pause to scan down the paperwork, impatience colouring his tone.

“But I must be,” you frown, “I was given this here…” 

You push your ticket under the window, clearly marked with today’s date. 

“Fraudsters,” his economic response.

“But… they were from your company? Outside your offices in Paris? And wearing your company livery? They… They said I could bring forward my sailing date from August to today. They took my original ticket and gave me this! It looks the same!” Panic rises in your voice with each sentence, dread churning behind your ribs as you realise you have likely been duped. 

“I'm sorry, ma’am, but that is not a valid ticket,” is his monotone reply.

“Oh god. What can I do? May I buy another ticket now?!?”

His responding laugh is a loud bark, “Hah! Ma’am, we are booked up for weeks in advance. There is a long line every day of people hoping for last-minute availability,” he signals to a line of weary-looking, luggage-laden folks under a makeshift shelter.

“But I….” you feel your eyes watering and dread in the pit of your stomach like you are falling down an endless chasm. 

“Ma’am, please step aside; I need to ensure valid passengers can board this ship…” he warns in a tone that is wholly without sympathy.

With a weak nod, you stumble away, back towards Benedict and Eloise. As you draw closer, their faces are a picture of concern, realising something is amiss. As you tearfully recount what happened, Benedict seethes, and Eloise wraps her arm around you, looking pained. 

“I’m going up there. This is unacceptable!” Benedict grits out, righteous indignation fizzing from his very being.

You have to hold out a hand to physically stop him. “It's likely no use,” you appease.

His ire deflates a fraction at your hold on his coat sleeve. “At least let me try, y/n,” he modifies after a few beats.

“Alright,” you relent, dropping your hand, “but I do not expect a different answer.”

You and Eloise cling to each other as you watch Benedict remonstrate with the same man and then a different one at the window. All the while, your stomach is in knots, equal parts fear and hope.

It's five or more minutes before Benedict returns to you, his face pinched.

“I was not successful,” he screws his mouth, looking away as if he cannot meet your eye as he says it. “They don't seem to care that criminals are posing as agents for their organisation,” he rubs his eyebrow in irritation. “I would report it to the police, but it's not their jurisdiction here, and it still does not solve our dilemma…”

“Thank you anyway…” you breathe, “for trying at least…”

There is a long silence as the three of you stand there, stupified by the conundrum before you. The chime of a clock on the harbour building breaks your thoughts.

“It's 3pm. Your sailing back to England is in less than an hour. You should go. You two leave without me,” you demure.

“NO!” they both exclaim in almost comic sibling unison.

“I’ll be fine, seriously.”

“I’m not leaving you alone here for god knows how long until there is room on a ship to America. You can’t be alone. This isn’t Paris; this is a port city. It’s definitely not safe,” Eloise rattles off, looking at you imploringly.

“She’s right,” Benedict concurs. “You were safe in Paris together before the war. You are not safe here. A beautiful young woman. You are a target for thieves or even worse. You cannot stay here alone.”

You try your hardest not to let Benedict calling you beautiful derail your whole thought train, but it’s futile. Your mind is scattered like a pile of wooden toy railway coaches.

“I... I could return to Paris?” You finally suggest after what feels like an eternity of buffering. “I could call to check for last-minute availability every morning. It’s only a couple of hours by train. I’ll be always packed and ready to go…” you argue, not as yet realising the naivety behind your own idea.

“Paris will be the first target for Hitler’s invasion,” Benedict says gravely. “It could be much worse to remain there…”

“So what am I to do? I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t…”

“There is only one solution, and that is for us to remain here as well until you can secure passage out of the country,” Benedict shrugs.

“Agreed,” Eloise nods emphatically as you go to protest.

“There are many more sailings back to England, and tickets are easier to come by,” Benedict points out. “We can move our tickets up. At least by a few days until we can devise a plan.”

 “Wait… if there are no ships to America, why don't you come to England with us?” Eloise pipes up in a lightbulb moment.

“I have nowhere I could stay…” 

“Nonsense! You will stay with us at Aubrey Hall. Won’t she, Benedict?”

“Oh yes, of course. There are plenty of spare rooms,” he assures.

“Gosh, umm... Maybe? I…” you hesitate. The whiplash of the last few minutes and the generosity of their offer momentarily overwhelm you. “That's very generous of you. The problem is I don’t know for how long it would be, or even if I should. My parents only agreed to me living in Paris under the watchful eye of Solene. This… this is entirely other…”

You startle as Benedict places his hands on your shoulders, pulling your attention to his sincere expression. “Y/n, you need to worry less about what your family thinks and more about yourself - what you need and your safety. This is escaping impending war; it’s a completely different circumstance from how you arrived here. The decisions you make right now have to be selfish and unburdened by expectations. It’s easy for others to judge from the distance of safety. But look around you. This town is teeming with people clambering to leave the country before an invasion. We do what we have to in unpredictable circumstances to survive.”

“You sound like a soldier,” you murmur.

“It’s what my father was,” he replies, releasing his grip but not moving away. “As a very young man in The Great War. He was lucky to survive, being an officer away from the front lines, but he taught me many things before he died. And one was about always making the smart choice if you can see one, even if it feels uncomfortable. The smart choice here is to escape by any means necessary. We all know Hitler has his sights set on France, especially Paris, as the figurative and cultural capital of Europe. You must get out. You must come with us.” You are captivated by his hazy eyes as he speaks, your heart beating fast as his face and voice grow softer. “Please. I could not live with myself if we left you behind,” he admits in a much quieter tone, but the plea is no less impassioned.

You cannot help it. You stare up at him, transfixed. Stanley has never been so eloquent. Or indeed so invested in your well-being. 

“Alright…” your hesitancy soft, “but you must let me pay you for my ticket…”

His face seems to light up at your acquiescence. “One day… maybe,” he smiles.

And so that is what he does - leaves you and Eloise ensconced in a nice bistro overlooking the harbour with a large bottle of white wine as he walks over to the ticket office for the ferry company and swaps their tickets for a few days hence and purchases an additional ticket for you, steadfastly refusing to tell you the cost for it even for many weeks hence.

While you are in the ladies' room, Eloise strikes up a conversation with a young man in uniform at the adjacent table; you fondly roll your eyes as you retake your seat and leave them be. Your gaze, however, is never far from the window, to where Benedict last left your line of sight, somehow anxious for his return.  When he reappears, striding purposefully towards the cafe, your chest flutters hard, his coat swishing around his legs, his hat at an attractive slant. If there is one thing you swear you could spend a lifetime doing, it’s watching Benedict Bridgerton just… be. 

“Any luck?” you ask as he arrives and doffs his hat, taking a seat on your other side, throwing an exasperated glance at his little sister and the uniformed man.

“We are set to sail Thursday,” he smiles and signals for the waiter, ordering a glass of Beaujolais. “I also stopped in the post office to call Solene. She has said we can stay as long as we need to at her sister’s cottage a few miles from town.”

“Oh, that's wonderful news!” your shoulders relax for the first time in what feels like hours. “But wait, I remember she said there is only one bedroom,” you point out. “You’ve been sleeping on our sofa for days now… you deserve a bed. I’ll take the sofa…”

“No. Also, I’m not sharing a bed with my sister,” he shudders, “she kicks in her sleep!”

“Oh, thanks. So I guess you want me to have bruised shins, then??” You laugh with gusto, the ricochet day making all your emotions heightened, seemingly bouncing from one extreme to another. Right now, a strange bubble of joy at this lighthearted exchange.

“Not at all. In fact, I’d happily share with you instead to save your legs from the abuse!” 

You know it’s said in jest, the comedic relief of the moment evident on his face, but still, a shot fires in your chest at the thought of sharing a bed with him. You decide to make light of it, even as your heart quickens.

“How do I know this kicking is not a problem that runs in the family? And you’re way stronger than her!”

“You can tie me down if it would make you feel better!” he chuckles loudly. 

You flush all over, the very thought so beguiling yet scandalous. And yet you cannot stop your mouth running away with you, this flirtatious banter too tasty to resist, the wine you’ve been drinking far too quickly for the last half hour loosening your lips.

“I think you would enjoy that far too much, Mr Bridgerton,” you volley back, raising an eyebrow with a giggle.

His cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink even as his eyes dilate rapidly, a corner of his tongue flicking out to pull his bottom lip under his teeth. It makes you want to sink your teeth right there, this impulse to be so physical with someone discombobulating. You've never had such errant, feral desires for Stanley. 

“You're probably right…” he rumbles quietly after a pause. 

You dare to hold his gaze even though you know it’s a mistake. This nightmare of a day makes you uncaring of propriety. He looks as wild as you feel inside, a glint in his eye that is at once permission and danger. 

“Theo here has been telling me all sorts of helpful information,” Eloise leans in, breaking the spell between you, a slight slur in her voice from her wine. 

Theo nods to you and Benedict. On closer inspection, he appears to be in a British soldier uniform. 

“I have to get back on duty,” he explains apologetically as he rises from his seat, “but I hope the information I’ve provided to your sister here will help.” He adds with a tiny salute.

You look surprised at Eloise as she just shrugs. You thought her up to her usual flirtatious banter, not researching. Benedict looks impressed too. You both, however, don’t miss the note he slips to Eloise before he takes his leave. Perhaps not purely intelligence gathering, then.

“Theo is helping process entry to Britain for foreign nationals wanting safe harbour. The numbers have spiralled since the war was declared.” She begins to explain when he is out of sight. “There is sadly a waiting list. But there are a few ways to skip the queue…

“Those being?” Benedict prompts before you can.

“Having family relatives residing in Britain already or, top of the pile, being the spouse of a British national.”

You slump your shoulders. “I have no relations there. Uncle Robert was visiting, but he was already at sea returning to America when the war was declared,” you explain, wishing he had stayed a few weeks longer.

“I wonder if we can find any paperwork forgers around?” Eloise ponders aloud.

“Eloise,” Benedict's tone is one of brotherly warning and disapproval, “we will not be taking that route.” his tone striking a chord of finality.

“But… how else can we get her into the country without bending the rules?” she exclaims at him, frustrated, gesticulating.

“I’m thinking…” Benedict grouses back, rubbing his chin and looking deep in thought.

Eloise leans back in her chair and twists her mouth into a pout. She takes a swig of wine before twisting to you and casually making a suggestion that flips your entire being.

“You could marry this one,” she jokes, shrugging and gesturing at Benedict. 

Your eyes dart to Benedict and his to you. A tidal wave of a hundred different feelings crashing through you at once.

“I’ll do it…” he offers, quick and quiet.

“El, don't be ridic…” your denial, spoken over his, dies on your tongue as you process what he said. 

You can't help it, you gape open-mouthed at him. As does Eloise.

“You would?” you stutter.

He nods, mien sincere, but you could swear there is more, too, a rousing intensity.

“I was joking, brother,” Eloise frowns.

“It's the only solution that guarantees her passage out of France,” he argues, “that's the most important thing here…”

“But marriage? That is such a sacrifice… I could never ask that of you…”  you shake your head, even as your stomach feels like a rollercoaster.

“That's why I'm offering, so you don't have to ask,” he shrugs as if this is not a big deal. “It is not me who has to make the sacrifice. It is you who has an intended…”

Stanley.

Your face falls as you think of the consequences. Marrying Benedict, if only for escape, would wound Stanley beyond belief. Your father, both your parents, in fact, would vehemently disapprove. 

“We can annul it as soon as we get to England…” he assures.

“French marriages can be annulled, brother, yes, but in France. Not in England,” Eloise pipes up, ever the font of knowledge.

“Then I will grant you an immediate divorce,” he amends.

“I can't believe you are taking me seriously,,,” Eloise mutters, but both of you seem to ignore it.

“I’d still be a divorcee, damaged goods as my father would say…” you wince at the phrase but know it to be accurate in Long Island, as much as you hate it.

“I don't know how else to help you escape, y/n,” Benedict implores, slightly alarmed. 

“Keep thinking!” Eloise interjects hotly. “I won't have my poor best friend here shackled to a Bridgerton brother. She has done absolutely nothing to deserve such a sentence, however short.”

“Eloise!” you scold without thought, “don't be so rude about your brother! He's wonderful….”

You immediately flush with embarrassment as she looks at you suspiciously. You dare not even look over to the subject of your praise, but you can feel the weight of his stare.

“But umm yes, let's keep thinking…” you mumble, embarrassed, looking down and picking at your cuticles in your lap.

“I need a bloody cigarette,” Eloise pronounces, suddenly standing up, her chair scraping loudly over the tiled floor.

“Sister, you do not smoke,” Benedict frowns up at her, again with that air of elder sibling forbearance.

“Sometimes I do,” she shrugs, her tone defiant, “and this situation definitely warrants one.” She jabs her finger by her side to emphasise her opinion.

With that, she marches up to the bar and orders one but does not return to the table, shooting you both a look before heading to the wall outside and sitting alone, staring out at the horizon and taking deep draws.

You and Benedict sit in silence, heads bowed in thought for what feels like an age, only interspersed with small sips of wine. 

“I honestly can't think of another way out of this mess…” Benedict sighs, breaking the hush. “But I understand it's such an enormous decision; you need time to consider it.”

You are scared by how much your heart and mind are screaming, ‘I really don't, I will marry you,’ even if your gut churns with the idea of how you will explain it to everyone. You look up, and again, those blue eyes bore into yours. Sincerity, concern, empathy, and something that looks dangerously like desire. You could get lost in that look. Forever.

“I’ll do it…” you whisper, knowing you are playing with fire… and yet yearning to be burned.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[raven-dor]

this fic is getting posted this MONDAY at 3pm EST, so make sure to keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of just a shell of me...

The morning light streamed through the blinds, ripping you from your sleep. You dug your face into your pillow, trying to indulge yourself in a few more moments of peace. You sighed, reaching out in Rafe’s general direction, frowning when you realized that Rafe was no longer in bed. 

You groaned, pulling the covers tight around you as you sat up. "Rafe? Where are you?"

No response.

You huffed, standing up and investigating. He wasn’t in his bathroom or his closet, which was much too large for a boy who wore the same three outfits. You felt dejected - after last night, you would have thought he’d stay with you, talking about everything and nothing. 

Your eyes caught the time on his alarm clock, pulling you back to reality. You had work in three hours, and since you did not have a single work-appropriate item of clothing stored here, you had to go back home. Your shorts were thrown haphazardly across the room, your shirt at the foot of his bed. It was like a scavenger hunt, finding all of your clothing before he came back. 

"Leaving so soon?"

You grabbed your shirt off the ground, nodding. "I have work, Rafe. I know that's something you're not accustomed to-"

"Don't do that.” He frowned. “Don’t start deflecting." He shut his door, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Stay. I’ll drive you so you’re not late.” 

“I don’t know-” 

“I’ll make you breakfast, you can take a shower. I’ll buy you a new outfit, even. We can talk." He spun you around, smirking at the flustered look on your face. "Stay with me."

You tried to fight it, his charm, his loving look, but he was hard to tell no. Irresistible, you would call him to your friends. Never to his face, his ego was already too large. "Alright, fine. I'll stay." He nodded like he already knew you’d say yes. You hissed at his back, watching as he walked back out the door and down the stairs. "Blueberry pancakes, please."

He held a thumbs-up, saluting you. "Yes, ma'am."

[rechorites]

Warmest Regards

ao3

To Auror Malfoy,

As per my previous memos, Flobberworms do not present enough of a threat to public safety for the Auror department to get involved, even if the infestation is, as you claim, ‘like a Great Lake full of snot.’ You will need to get in touch with Davies in the Beast department—again, not my department—to schedule a welfare check regarding the Flobberworms. He may or may not be able to remove them.

I feel this is clear, but if you feel you need further clarification please go and see Davies in person.

Warm regards,

Hermione Granger Head of Beings, DRCMC

Granger,

Davies is useless.

Underneath all the Flobberworms is an artefact that cannot be approached by magical means. The Flobberworms seem to be attracted to it.

There is a high Muggle presence in the area, so Robards has marked this case as urgent.

I formally request your presence this afternoon at Stanborough Park, 3pm, to resolve this matter.

Malfoy

---

Malfoy,

Why me? Can’t you ask Hornby?

Granger

---

Granger,

The Flobberworms made me think of you.

-DM

---

That’s not a real reason and I’m not coming. -HG

---

Potter said he heard a sad little house-elf stuck beneath the slime. -DM

---

That’s ridiculous. -HG

---

No, really, and a Vampire and a Werewolf too. All sorts of Beings. Apparently the house-elf even called out your name, so sad.

Also, you are the only competent member of your department. -DM

---

Say please. -HG

---

Please. -DM

---

I’ll be there at 3:30, I have a meeting at 3. -HG

---

3:26pm, Stanborough Park

“Godric, you weren’t wrong, Malfoy,” says Hermione, wrinkling her nose. “It is like a Great Lake full of snot.”

“Do you know what Davies said?” he asks, sneering at the thought. “He said to just put on a rubber suit and go in.”

Hermione ignores him. Davies is an idiot, genuinely, but a stopped clock is right twice a day. “How close can you get before you have to stop using magic?” she asks, peering at the glinting red amulet hovering more than a metre over the shallow part of the lake. The Flobberworms do seem attracted to it, the ones close to the amulet almost writhing. Almost.

“Hedge took one step into the lake and tried to Accio it, and she still hasn’t stopped bleeding out of her ears completely.”

“Have you tried vanishing them?”

“They just appear again. Takes about two seconds and they’re back, more than before.”

“You’re going to hate my suggestion.”

“Don’t fucking tell me—”

“Is the rubber suit ready to go?”

---

Hermione ends up having to transfigure him one from an old tractor tyre they find in the playground.

He puts it on, begrudgingly, over his wizard’s robes, and she can’t help but laugh at the sight of him.

“It’s not funny, Granger.”

“You look like you’re heading out for three months on a fishing trawler, Malfoy. It’s fucking hilarious.” He gives her a mutinous look that would have looked pissed off, a few months ago. Now she can see the smile beneath it.

He slides his signet ring off his finger and hands it, and his wand, to her. He hesitates in front of the lake.

“Go on, then,” she says. “Before it gets dark.”

He takes one tentative step into the Flobberworm gloop, his face curdling with disgust.

“Feel nice, Malfoy?”

“I actually… hate you,” he says mildly, taking the smallest steps she’s ever seen. A Horklump would be faster.

“Interesting. I thought I was the most competent member of my department?”"

Malfoy grumbles something below his breath that sounds distinctly like ‘most annoying member.’ She decides to let it slide. Flobberworm gunk and rubber suit aside, his hair is doing that thing she likes, perfectly ruffled in a way that she knows takes an hour after he showers.

He trawls in, deep, until he’s standing right under the amulet.

“Granger,” he calls, looking up at it. “We have a problem.” He holds his hand straight up. It’s about half a metre away.

“Jump, then.” She tries not to sound too amused. They’re at work.

Even from here, she can see the look he gives her.

He jumps, pathetically. His hand doesn’t even come close, and Hermione pretty sure she sees a Flobberworm slide over the edge of the rubber. She bites her lip so she doesn’t laugh, the look of horror on his face and the way he’s holding his arms above the water.

Draco waddles out much faster than he got in.

“Ew, Granger, vanish it, it’s slimy.” He holds open the gaping top of the rubber suit, one particularly large Flobberworm clinging to the side. “Don’t fucking laugh. You know what we have to do to get it, don’t you?”

She vanishes the Flobberworm, even clearing the slime that’s leaked in. She can be nice. “Not my problem, Malfoy. The Flobberworms are in no danger.”

“Come on. Just get on my shoulders—”

“I’m sorry?”

“No need to apologise. Hop on, I’ll walk in, you can grab it, job done.”

“Hop on? There’s no fucking way. Ask one of your Auror pals.”

“In case you didn’t notice, Granger, it’s five thirty. They’ve all gone home.”

She folds her arms over her chest, raises an eyebrow at him. “What do I get in return?”

Malfoy shrugs in that irritating way of his, smirks with half his mouth. “I’ll make it worth your while.” His lips are really, really pink against his pale skin. He tucks his thumbs in the top of the rubber suit like a fucking farmer.

“Fine,” she says, gathering her hair and twirling it up until it can be secured by her wand. He looks bloody delighted. “But if you drop me, Malfoy, so help me, I will hex you until you are a Flobberworm.”

“Who said anything about dropping?” he says, and he really shouldn’t appeal to her like this, covered in slime and dripping Flobberworms onto the dirt.

It’s an awkward affair, getting on someone’s shoulders. He sits down on a picnic bench and she clambers over him, and it’s all a little too close for comfort, as an adult. She transfigures her boots into something vaguely waterproof and hopes for the best.

Draco stands and she almost falls off, holding his head in a vice-grip between her forearms. Maybe she shrieks, a little, until he gets his hands on her thighs to keep her steady. She blushes and is suddenly very glad he can’t see her face from down there.

“Ready?” he asks, once she’s sitting up. It takes her a second to remember they’re meant to be doing something.

“Yeah. Yep. Ready.” His hair is silky soft on her wrists. She thinks maybe she can feel his cheeks move in a smile against the fabric of her trousers, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking about. She tries desperately to think about something other than the feel of him between her thighs.

He walks in faster, seemingly used to the viscosity of the worms, and they’re under the amulet quickly.

“Do I just… touch it?”

“Merlin, Granger, no. There’s a handkerchief in my breast pocket, use that.”

She holds onto his head tightly to avoid falling off, the inert bodies of the Flobberworms under her seeming fouler by the minute. She slides her hand down his front, scrabbles around a little until she finds the monogrammed corner of a thick, white handkerchief. The embroidery moves under her fingers, a serpentine dragon slithering through the D.

She reaches up with it and touches the amulet. As soon as the handkerchief touches the jewel on the front, the Flobberworms around her seem to… vibrate.

“Malfoy…”

“I see them, Granger. They’re harmless, right?” He doesn't sound concerned at all, which bothers her.

“There’s never been any reports of Flobberworm on wizard violence, but there was one anecdotal report that swallowing one whole led to slight stomach upset and severe—”

“I get the picture. Take it down carefully, don’t let it touch you.”

“I’m not a dunce,” she says, but she is careful. The bleeding out of the ears thing doesn’t sound pleasant.

She pulls it down slowly, and the Flobberworms—Well, they’re definitely not supposed to do whatever it is they’re doing. One second they’re vibrating, and the next they’re swelling up alarmingly quickly, and Hermione’s pretty sure they’re about to—

Her eyes and mouth squeeze shut, the warm wet Flobberworm slime going everywhere as they explode.

The water comes rushing back around them as the Flobberworms disintegrate, and she keeps her eyes squeezed shut and the amulet out in front of her as she feels Malfoy walk them both back through the water.

As soon he’s sitting on the bench again, she climbs off carefully, eyes still closed. There’s no bloody way she’s opening any orifice until the goop is gone. She feels him take the amulet, hears the opening and closing of a box. He takes the wand from her hair, all of it going loose on her neck at once, the disgusting cold slime dripping down on her.

He must clean himself off, first, because it takes an age before she feels the slime disappear on her face. As soon as her mouth is clean, she opens it and lets out a wail.

“Ew! Ew! Did you know that was going to happen?” she shrieks.

“If I say yes, are you still coming over tonight?” He’s laughing, she can tell from his voice, and when he finally gets the gunk off her eyes she glares at him.

“If you think I’m getting this… this… mucus off anywhere other than your shower, Draco, you are sorely mistaken.”

---

She spends a good thirty minutes getting the last remnants of gunk from her hair.

She pads barefoot out of his shower—the water pressure at his place is truly heavenly, unlike at her own—and finds him reading a book next to the fire, showered and dressed in his silk pyjamas. The man doesn’t own casual clothing, she’s found out, not even for sleep.

He looks up at her, wrapped only in his monogrammed towel.

“What was that about making it worth my while, Draco?”

He smiles devilishly, and Hermione quickly forgets about Flobberworms.

[dayzadraws]

Serennedy Week 2025 Prompt 4 - T4T

I think Leon gets up with his alarm before the sun in almost robotic fashion and then Luis would sleep in until like 3pm if given the option. They're so funny <3

I was like "this one is quick! Hooray!" and then it was not. Had three finals in two days and then right in to working a 16 hour weekend... but that means no MORE finals!! For a few weeks. Who would've thought taking classes condensed into 4 week blocks over the summer was a lot of work? Either way, we're back!

[toxic3mmy]

hii! i hope this isn’t going against boundaries as it is a little angsty, but could you do a fic where the reader is going through a depressive episode and alex tries his best to help them? love ur writing!

of course! i struggle with mental health and love this request idea!

(also, im sorry if this feels repetitive from my other works!! please feel free to leave more requests my lovelies! <33 )

prompt: alex helps you through a depressive episode

warning: mention of depression, sh, and scars

________________________________________

it had been three weeks. alex had been trying to get a hold of you for the entirety of this time and had no luck except for a few texts from you. he was really beginning to worry.

was she in trouble? did something bad happen? is she in the hospital? is she just very busy with life?

alex didn’t know, but what he did know was that it had been long enough since he last saw you.

you were stuck in a terrible loop. wake up around 3pm, watch the show you were hyper fixated on, toss and turn in your bed, eat some snacks, and sleep around 5am. repeat the cycle again and again. sometimes you just laid there and thought about how much you hated life. sometimes you cried and cried for hours at a time. and sometimes, when your head was too full of resentment and hate towards yourself, you would drag your trusty blade across your scarred skin and felt the immense relief as the blood dripped from your self inflicted wounds.

you knew it was an issue. you knew you really were not okay. and most of all, you knew that you could never show this side of yourself to alex. he wouldn’t understand any of it and he most likely would abandon you like everyone else in your life had.

but a huge part of you wanted to see him. maybe seeing him would snap you out of this depressive loop. but maybe not, who knows.

alex had made his way to your house and he waited outside. he tried calling you one last time before making his move.

you watched your phone screen light up with alex’s face as you let it ring. you missed him, you really did. but you wanted to watch your show in peace. so you waited for the call to finish and continued to lay in bed, feeling sleep take over your body.

alex saw his missed call as a sign. he put his phone away and grabbed your extra key hidden inside your pink flower pot on the porch. he unlocked your door and slowly made his way inside. as he turned around from closing the door, he noticed the mess. it was an absolute mess everywhere. he knew how tidy you loved to keep your home so it was confirmed now that something was definitely wrong.

he creeped closer to your room and after opening the door, he noticed you must have drifted off to sleep while watching something on your phone. he looked around your room and saw that your room was in worse condition than the house. takeout food was lying around on the floor, dirty dishes, empty cups and dirty laundry had collected all over the room. the floor wasn’t even visible at this point.

alex knew exactly what this was. you had fallen into a depressive episode. but why didn’t you tell him about this sooner?

he brushed aside the questions and took off his jacket. he then began to pick up any trash he could find without waking you. he took all dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and washed them all. then he put all the littered clothing into your washer and began to wash them. he swept and mopped your room and was genuinely surprised that you had yet to wake up from all his movement.

he cleaned the rest of the house without hesitation. he knew this was probably the least he could do for you right now and he wanted to do anything he could for you.

it took him a few hours but he’d finally gotten everything done when he realized he forgot to clean a few things in your room. he walked in and abruptly stopped in his tracks the moment he met your wide eyes.

“alex…. what are you doing here? i can’t have you here right now i-i don’t want you here! i don’t want you to see me like this.. why are you here?! who told you that you could just break into my house and—and” you let out the most heartbreaking sobs as you broke down right then and there

alex rushed over to you and immediately enveloped you in his strong arms. you were quick to push him off of you, still crying.

“alex i haven’t showered in almost two weeks! i smell awful and look even worse! can’t you see that i don’t want you here!”

alex began to tear up as he simply held you in his arms once again.

“shh, it’s okay sweetheart. ya no llores corazón. i’m here, okay? i know you’re going through a lot right now and i’m here by your side no matter what. i missed you y/n. i’ve missed you so much. i just want you to be okay..”

you began to cry even more when he said these things to you.

“are you sure you’re okay seeing me like this? i… i’m doing really bad and this is all so embarrassing—”

alex sighed,

“princesa, you have no reason to be embarrassed with me. i’m your best friend. i love you and i always will. i want to take care of you, if that’s okay?”

you didn’t know what to say. you were so so grateful for him, for everything. all you could do was nod as tears silently fell down your face.

alex held your hand and led you into your newly cleaned bathroom. he grabbed your favorite hair brush and let your hair down from its messy bun. he softly brushed out all the knots in your long hair. he then handed you your toothbrush with toothpaste on it. although you felt a bit embarrassed still, alex had a way of being so nonchalant that it made the embarrassment lift off of your shoulders. you brushed your teeth as he finished off detangling your hair.

once you both finished, he played a soft playlist on his phone to fill the silence and began to take off his shoes and his tee shirt.

you couldn’t help but laugh with reddened cheeks as you covered your eyes with your hands.

alex playfully threw his shirt at you.

“hey! what are you doing?” you laughed, uncovering your eyes slowly

“i’m showering with you, duhh. now come on y/n, don’t let me make a fool of myself alone!” he laughed as he turned on the shower and then walked towards you.

his warm hands held you by the hips and your breath was caught in your throat as he slowly began to undress you.

“is this.. okay?” alex whispered to you as his hands stopped at the hem of your pants.

“yeah, yes it’s okay. i trust you.”

and with that alex undressed the two of you and helped you into the steamy shower. as the water ran down your body, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. while you began to soap up your body, alex approached you and once again asked if he could come in. you laughed and pulled him into the shower with you.

you spent the remainder of the shower washing one another’s hair and body in the most innocent way possible. when you both finished, alex got towels for the both of you and he rummaged through your closet to find you some comfortable clothes. he also found some clothes you’d stolen from him and extra stuff he’d left at your house from weeks ago. the two of you got dressed in silence until you spoke up.

“alex… i really want to thank you. i really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. i haven’t really been feeling that well lately. i um, i couldn’t leave my bed for so long. i feel too tired to even take care of myself or to do anything at all. i’m really sorry you had to see me like this…”

“y/n, please don’t apologize. you have nothing to apologize for. you’re only human. and even if you’re struggling with things that i may not completely understand, i’m never going to leave your side. one thing i did want to ask about was um… the scars on your arms and your thighs. have you always struggled with self harm? i… i hate to see you hurting yourself in this way. your beautiful skin…” he said as he held your hands in his

“i… don’t know how else to cope. i know it’s not okay to do but it brings me comfort, as morbid as it may sound. i’m sorry alex… i really am. i promise you that i’ll make an appointment with my therapist. i might have um ghosted her a few weeks ago but i think it would be best to reach out to her for help. i didn’t want to at first but i know you want the best for me and id do anything for you alexis” you were crying again but alex was quick to dry your eyes with his hands

he held your arms out and kissed the ragged red lines across your arms. he kissed every last one, and you couldn’t help but smile sadly at him.

“y/n, let me take care of you okay?”

“even if i get bad like this again?”

“yes y/n, i don’t plan on leaving your side. i’m here now okay? i’m here hermosa”

you waited in your bedroom doorway as alex changed your bedding to clean sheets and a clean blanket. you were so incredibly lucky and thankful to have him here with you. when he finished, he laid you down and followed suit.

“when was the last time you ate?”

“probably yesterday.. well technically yesterday but all i had was a soda and some fruit.”

“would you like me to cook something for you? or maybe i could pick up some food?”

“you really don’t have to do that, you’ve already done so much for me i mean look at this house! it’s spotless and i don’t know how to even thank you for that..”

“don’t worry about that. are you hungry, yes or no?”

you nodded sheepishly

“okay, then give me like twenty minutes and i’ll be right back”

and with that, alex left you alone to get you some food. the moment you were by yourself, you couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably. it was all too much too soon. you weren’t ready to get better. you just wanted to be alone and you wanted to rot away in your bed with no one to bother you.

as these negative thoughts began to surface in your mind, your thoughts immediately switched to images of your shiny little friend that was hiding in your bathroom. you went to retrieve your favorite sharp blade and rolled up your sleeve. you stared at the red healing cuts on your arm and you suddenly remembered alex.

he was kissing your scars and asking if he could take care of you. you didn’t want to disappoint him. as much as you wanted to stay unwell, you didn’t want to do that to him. you stood up and flushed the blade down the toilet. you took a second to walk around your house and admire all that alex had done for you.

you sat in your living room and turned on the tv while waiting for his return.

as promised, twenty minutes had passed and alex walked into your house with some dinner for the two of you.

“honey! i’m home!” he laughed at his own joke as you playfully rolled your eyes at him

“hi… i missed you” you surprised alex with a tight hug

“woah, is everything okay y/n?”

“yeah, now that you’re here everything is perfect”

and the two of you talked over dinner. you thanked alex profusely for everything he’d done. he said it was no big deal, that he enjoyed taking care of you. and that was the end of that. the rest of the day consisted mostly of alex being very cuddly and sweet to you. but you didn’t mind it at all. the two of you simply enjoyed being together and everything felt okay in that moment.

[that-one-moth]

Round Five of Palestinian Families!

Link(s) to other posts: First Round, Second Round, Third Round, Fourth Round, Round Six,

@yasermohammad @majedgaza1 @ahmedhelllis @mahaahmad11 @saveyouseffamily @olamuhanna123 @shah599 @amjadsido99

Free Palestine! 🇵🇸🍉❤️

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

Being the only diagnosed and medicated member of your intensely ADHD/autism family is so fucking funny cuz it’s like

Me: hey guys what’s up?

My mom, who has been cooking lunch for three hours because she keeps forgetting that she is cooking supper because she is still hyper focused on the craft she was making before she started cooking and keeps going between the craft room and the stove, she is blasting a Facebook livestream about crafts: HELLO!!!!!! I was just researching [xyz] and i learned… wait, your glasses are filthy let me just… [takes my glasses off my face and cleans them] anyway I need your help I’m stuck on my craft [drags me to the craft room, my eyes lingering on the fucking pot that’s boiling over. I will end up cooking lunch undoubtedly]

My 80 year old nanny who was given 4 years to live 8 years ago and is baffling the medical world by continuing to live, scrolling the obits in between Wordle guesses, adding names to her “outlived list”, she has an entirely rooster themed house and if she doesn’t have lunch at exactly 12:13pm her day will be thrown off entirely, but she didn’t have all this autism stuff back in her day: Maureen died, [mom’s name] do you remember Maureen Smith? She was the church secretary in 1973? She died, the funeral is on Wednesday.

My brother, who has been making feats of engineering in Minecraft for the last 6 hours, coming in from his daily wake and bake he does to self-medicate for “whatever’s wrong with him”, the same man who built his first PC entirely from YouTube tutorials at age 13: [Infordumps at me about Warhammer lore or Minecraft while I pick up where mom left off making lunch while the chaos unfolds]

My dead Grampy who was a civil engineer who collected hobbies and hoarded building supplies and Weird Shit like it was a full time job who also could not cook without dirtying every single dish in the house, haunting the house he built as a fucking side quest in 1993: [dirties a pot from the beyond somehow]

My dad, 4 hours away who started a business because he was so fucking bored after he retired who used to call me out of school if my grades were good so we could hang out and collect rocks at the beach: [texting] hey this is the red hot chilli peppers song I was talking about a month ago, also, here is a link to a video about space that I thought was really really cool that I want you to watch so you can also think it’s cool! Also just finished season 6 of Stargate, was hoping to call to discuss after work.

My step mom, 4 hours away: [knitting a the sweater The Dude in the Big Lobowski wears without a pattern at lightning speed because my dad mentioned, in passing, that he has a cool sweater this morning. It will be done by 3pm. She is also monitoring a dashboard she coded to link up her numerous excel spreadsheets that run an entire city on her iPad while she knits. She is avoiding making a phone call. She has invited me to join a social media platform exclusively for knitters to share projects and patterns. I do not knit but she is god to me so I join. She is an influencer on the platform]

Me: yeah don’t know what I expected

[porcupine-girl]

I realized today that I've been blaming my writing going all to hell on covid. And that's definitely part of it - wisps of brain fog always linger for several weeks afterward, and I find it significantly harder to think of the word I mean for things than it was a couple of years ago.

But I realized today that something else happened at the same time:

I got covid for the first time in July 2022.

And my kid went into 7th grade a month and a half later.

Why is this significant?

Because 7th grade meant switching from elementary to middle school. And while the elementary school had an after school program that meant he got home between 5-5:30pm, the middle school had no such program. He stayed after for clubs, but they were only twice a week for an hour, and not the entire school year. They usually didn't start til October and ended in April.

My brain does not turn on properly until 2-3pm most days. This is just how it works. When I was in grad school (before having a kid, and when my husband lived in another city), I would go to campus and work 3pm-10pm many days, it was great. That is perfect.

Having a kid fucked this up, because suddenly my most productive time of day is filled with dinner and bedtime and such. When he started elementary school with this after school program, that helped because at least I had 2-3 hours a day after my brain turned on and before he got home.

Suddenly middle school is here, and he started getting home by 3:30, 4:30 when he had clubs (which again, was not most days). So suddenly I went from 2-3 hours of work time to an hour at most, and sometimes even when I thought I'd get that hour he'd show up at 3:30 because robotics club got cancelled.

Now high school is the same way - thankfully, his bus ride takes a while (he rode his bike the half mile to the middle school), so even though they get out at 2:30 he doesn't get home until 2:55. But this means I have no work time at all before he gets home and I have to start keeping on top of him to get homework done and practice cello and etc etc etc. The one extracurricular he's done so far, film crew, hasn't even been after school! First they were meeting from 7-9fuckingPM three days a week, then the past few weekends they've been filming 8am-5pm Saturdays & Sundays. Which means I do get time without him on the weekends, but my husband is home and sometimes he's even not working and expects me to do things with him because it's the only chance we get, since he's working most evenings.

So anyhow. I knew this was annoying, but I only realized today how bad it was because I was actually up and medicated and showered and dressed before 2pm (this is a constant struggle on days I don't teach, once again I'd been getting it under control and then covid hit), but I had trouble getting anything done 2-3pm because of the whole but he'll be home in less than an hour, whatever I do I'll have to stop in less than an hour thing that you KNOW renders many of us with ADHD completely useless. And this was the first time I realized that I lost those vital 2-3 work hours every weekday at the exact same time I got covid the first time, and I think that has impacted me more than I'd even realized.

ETA: I should mention that before I got covid the first time, I was actively preparing to query agents for some picture books, as well as about halfway through a middle grades novel, and had published two articles in kids' magazines and was actively querying to get more. Aside from the way my fanfic output has slowed to a trickle, I have made almost NO progress on ANY of these professional writing attempts. What time I do manage to spend on work stuff, I have to use on teaching, because shit will actually happen if I don't get teaching stuff done while if I don't get writing done absolutely nothing happens.

[cinnsin]

The earlybird catches the bookworm 📖🪱

Snakes & Stones & Broken Bones

“Do you actually know how to enter a building without breaking in?” Draco leaned over the rail to address the brunette trespasser. “Where is everyone?” Hermione ignored his query. “Well, it's three in the afternoon and the locked front door indicates that we're closed.” Draco descended the stairs. “What?” Hermione looked perplexed. “No, where are Luna and Theo? Is that what you're wearing? I thought the dress code was formal, I hate being overdressed. Luna said Theo would be meeting her at work to bring her straight here.” “You're here for the port key.” Draco deduced that Theo invited Luna to use his port key with them tonight and that in turn Luna and Hermione were a package deal. “I am. Which by the way, I didn't think any of the ones to Scotland were active since the wall went up. The Hogwarts Express is supposed to be the only faction-neutral entrance into Bulgarian occupied territory.” “Yes, well, it pays to have friends in low places.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Right. So you still haven't answered: where is everyone?” “You still haven't answered if you knew how to knock.” Hermione put her hands on her hips like her patience was wearing thin. “Malfoy.” “Yes, Granger?” He gave her as charming a smile as he could muster and was rewarded with her cheeks flushing a beautiful dusty rose; he loved that. It felt like the sun was warming Draco from the inside out whenever she blushed for him. She cocked her head to the side with a sigh and her blush faded. “I'm serious.” “As I said before, it's 3PM. The Alumni dinner doesn't even start until 6. Which is also why I am not in my formalwear yet.” “Exactly! It's already 3PM!” “You'd like to arrive three hours early?” Draco chortled. “Please tell me your reasoning.”

This ought to be good. “Well, I don't know where your port key lets out so I assume we'll need to travel from wherever that is to the school, once we're there everyone will need to freshen up with spells in the lavatories since of course we won't be on the train to do so before we arrive; then there's mingling and drinks, and most importantly: finding proper seats at a good table location; and all that is assuming your dodgy port key even works so we'll need time to get to platform 9 ¾ if not.” Hermione looked at him expectantly, as if now that he was apprised of her reasoning he would be rushing them out to the port key to leave immediately. Draco couldn't help but laugh, it was better than he could've imagined. Hermione, in all her extraordinary swottiness, was basically racing to get a good seat in school.

“First off, my port key is not dodgy. I don't deal in anything but the most reliable black-market goods.” He gave her a wink, knowing full well she would be having some kind of moral dilemma over using an illegal port. “As for the rest: we'll let out in the shrieking shack, so it'll be just fifteen minutes through the tunnel; I can't imagine it will take long to wave a wand over your hair in the lavatory; I don't mingle, but I'll make you a drink right now if you like; and the best seat will be whichever is the one next to yours, darling.” He smirked, more than pleased to see her cheeks bloom pink once again, thinking tonight would be a good night.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61013398/chapters/155866909

[ahockeywrites]

the assistance part one

pairing: trent frederic x aurelia mcavoy word count: 1k warnings: probably swearing knowing me, authors note: decided to split this into two parts so I can get one out to you guys today masterlist

David Pastrnak’s car had a problem. And he had no fucking clue how to solve it. He thought that he was skilled with his hands. On the, 100%. When it came to cars, 0%. If negative percentages existed, that would be how good he was at fixing cars. YouTube couldn’t help him this time.

The team were over at his place for a barbecue as he had the best grill and hosting facilities. David knew that he should have called a mechanic but he also knew that Charlie’s cousin was a mechanic and that it might be easier to get them to fix it. 

The Czech player walked over to Charlie with a beer for each of them before sitting down in the chair next to him. David ran a hand through his hair and he didn’t know why he felt so awkward asking a friend for a favour, but he did. It wasn’t the thing he usually did.

“You know your mechanic cousin,” David started, getting over the awkwardness and just saying what he needed to.

“Yes, I do know Peanut,” Charlie replied, he had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Everyone knew that he had a cousin who was a mechanic but it was only Trent who had actually met her. He didn’t even know if the rest of the team knew that the mechanic was a woman. 

“Any chance he could come and take a look at my car? I’ll pay him for the trouble, I’m just driving around and something sounds wrong,” David explained, hands gesticulating.

“Yeah, I’ll drop Peanut a message and hopefully they’ll swing by today,” Charlie pulled his phone out and composed a text to his cousin. Charlie knew that Aurelia was at a race day but she was usually done by 3PM and, he checked his watch, it was half past two. She should be done soon.

His phone vibrated almost immediately after putting it down.

Peanut 🥜: will swing by, race has just finished. ya gal won again ✌️

Charlie: was never in doubt! see you in an hour or so

Peanut 🥜: 👍✌️

Trent wandered around Pasta’s garden after chatting to a few of the guys and their partners. He had a beer in his hand but something was off. He didn’t feel right but that could have been related to the punches he received in his abdomen the afternoon before. Saturday matinee games had gotten a lot more feisty than he remembered.

The can of beer in his hand was finished so he crushed it before walking inside to find the recycling bin. Trent knew where the glasses were so he quickly grabbed one and filled it up with some water. He wasn’t drunk by any means but he was dehydrated.

Three quick knocks on the front door took him out of the trance he was in. His hands didn’t move quickly enough as he spilt a large portion of his water onto his shirt. A few expletives left his mouth as he put the glass down and pulled his T-shirt off. 

Charlie had just got Aurelia’s text saying that she was here so he walked to the front door but was greeted by a half naked teammate. 

“Please put your shirt back on, Aurelia doesn’t need to see that,” Charlie groaned when he realised that it was Trent who was shirtless.

“Aurelia’s here?” asked Trent. As far as the St Louis native was aware, she wasn’t meant to be coming to this event. But it wouldn’t be unlike Charlie to change who he invited last minute. 

“Yes,” Charlie wandered through the kitchen to the hallway of Pasta’s house. “So please put a shirt on, she doesn’t need to see your chest.” Trent thought about his request but had to ring out his shirt in the sink before he put it back on because the sensory overload of a wet shirt was not fun.

Trent’s back was to the hallway so Aurelia wouldn’t be able to tell who it was. This was a good compromise between putting a shirt on whilst it was still wet and not wearing a shirt at all, he thought.

A wolf whistle from behind him was unexpected but Trent thought it was one of his teammates so turned around to explain why his shirt was off.

“Frederic!” Charlie shouted. “I told you to put your shirt back on.” In front of him was a fuming Charlie McAvoy and a staring Aurelia McAvoy.

“Not complaining at all Chucky,” Aurelia grinned as she looked Trent up and down. Charlie playfully hit the back of her head and then shouted for David.

Pasta walked into the kitchen with a beer in his hand, which he thought he was going to hand off to the mechanic who was going to fix his car. Instead he was greeted by a shirtless Trent, an angry Charlie and a girl. 

“David, Peanut,” Charlie pointed between the two of them. “Peanut is going to fix your car then go home.”

Aurelia raised an eyebrow towards her cousin. “And what if I don’t want to go home after?”

“You’re welcome to stay-“ David started but was cut off by Charlie.

“Peanut,” Charlie sighed, “you’re working tomorrow and you raced today. You should get some sleep.”

“Who are you, my dad?” She questioned back. “Let me take a look at the car and then I can figure out how long it’s going to take me to fix it. Then I can see if I’m going straight home.” She mumbled something that only Trent caught as she walked past him to the garage. “Stupid fucking cockblock,” was what he heard. 

Did Aurelia McAvoy like him back?