#And so it got me thinking why do I just * not * believe in my exam taking ability when people in the B1 course can pass the B2 🫠

[learnelle]

Do you ever just get so tired and end up writing secononondly, unsure why it looks a lil off 👁👁

[luxuourr]

Why manifesting is your best friend + society is a bitch.

manifesting ?? my best friend ? hell no. i need to work so hard...

pookie it's not your work hard thing , your society you live in, we collectively live in , has told us fucked up shit we don't need to believe in, nothing of it is true. The only thing true is what's from the heart and it's the feeling , you didn't and god didn't and universe didn't send time upon us , we used our brains to create it ,

laws don't fail. laws are made laws because they're undeniable.

understand time is not linear , scientists found alphabets otherwise let's be honest , who would have known what's English is?? If Greeks and Egyptians didn't work on time. would we know today?

nuh uh! so I suggest you to remember, don't look at how much time or date you're at, don't look at how many hours until he (sp ) surprises ur enemy with date , how you fail

no time to think of this, think the best of every possible circumstance, I know and you should too, you're doing a great job

even if the last conversation with him ended in a divorce, breakup or failed situation ship, you can get it all back, even if life has not been kind to you and you could not keep up with the most important exam of your life AND you're a victim of domestic abuse or parental abuse. it's not too late, you're not doing anything right or wrong , just because you could not do more than you could because of circumstances, it'll not change your results , it'll not change you getting 100%, if you did everything positively and tried to slap your negative thoughts there's always hope. i say this as I have not prepared anything for the most important math exam of my life and it's 5 pm rn , I have 14 chapters and have the most biggest exam of my life tommorow at 1 pm, have severe depression and the most toxic and hurtful family you could ever imagine to have.

believe me, no one will care about you, until you make it happen.

do you know what your job is ?

- know what you want + assume you're that version, that super model , famous celeb, have that desired body s/o or whatever , fullfill yourself after that and BOOM you wake up in it, won't even take less than a 2-3 days if your belief is good enough, you're doing shit in a fun way to manifest everything you want

- failure doesn't exist , no you're not delusional for attempting nothing in exam and wanting 96% ,you're god remember. the others who have the exam aren't , if you assume you'll know everything without studying that's going to happen, it only depends on what you feed yourself with.

- gone is gone , it's like it'll never come back, if there is something attached , like up coming results from what happened, i suggest assume + accept and move on

- if you script, mediate, robotically affirm, visualize or do whatever, it is meant to happen

- do not worry, you're doing a good job, just try your best for certain things or assume , everything works in the best possible outcomes

- mountains and clouds , centuries and the equator will move for you to get your desires.

- no you're not cursed and shit, life's a rainbow sparkle colors it's all a roses of bed and not what society taught us, just assume and you'll wake up with it

- for example if you have important exams of your life , there's this girl in front of you doing so well in exams , u don't wanna cheat and there's no chances anyway but you realize, the best you're doing right now is trying your level best in the exam and if you have time or not , time doesn't matter it's just created by us, remember she's not better she has no idea about LOA It's , you it's me it's us. Why would she be better, she had to study 24/7 and then still assume about average grades and stress over what's wrong and right , instead you , who could visualize given it well, be the person who got 96% in these exams isn't it much more fun, less tiring and entertaining??

- you got to know manifesting for a reason, trust people who posted their success stories, trust yourself , be kind to yourself and don't let the old story walk over you, it was never there , failure never existed , you've always been the new story you created for yourself, understood.?

- beating yourself up is not going to reverse time again honey, it's gone , it's not coming back , like never so focus on yourself, your feelings , your intentions , your life. Try to know that manifesting is not about trying to get and doing methods to recieve , it's about KNOWING and feeling.

e. g Aliyah is a girl who's a manifestor she wants good grades, she has issues she cannot study because of and cause her to be burn out at home , so she decides , the night before finals.

she thinks " i will try my best and even if it's the point where it wasn't good enough, universe and manifesting has my back, the time that'll be taken by the institute to check my exams , I'll revise everything including all my wrong parts of exam and unfilled parts to fully filled correct answers because crying and whining won't do shit, but this feeling will change everything" , even her bsf in this case supported her and told her that she's manifesting for her and everything plays out in the best possible circumstances. You only assumed like that and made it happen

e. g there's another manifestor called Sara she is also giving the same exam as aliyah , but instead of working on her self concept , believing in herself

, she'd cry for hours everyday for three months so instead of reality giving her the 100% she's been hoping for , she fails she thinks 3D is everything( it's not ) , she doesn't believe in bloggers she's impulsive, thinks crying is the solution to everything , she spends 3 months crying and shitting about herself to achieve nothing in life

prior to this aliyah the master manifestor slays in everything she does, she accepts and moves on , every time bad thoughts get to her , she slaps them with " NO THIS IS MY WORLD IM AN ACCURATE PERFECT MANIFESTOR"

so who of them saved themselves despite abusive household and everything??? Sarah just spent all the time crying and whining.

you can either be her. ( Sarah) or HER (aliyah)

[sutorus]

HEART SHAKER

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: ~1k

WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.

A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL

“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”

you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 

you pump harder. 

“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”

you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 

“can you stop? i lost count!”

satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 

you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 

you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 

“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”

you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 

satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 

“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”

“resident,” you correct him. 

you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 

of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 

it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 

“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 

“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 

satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”

you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 

you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 

“turn infinity off.”

“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”

“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”

he won’t. 

“wanna play doctor?” 

you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 

grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.

he complained about a migraine to shoko. 

it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 

“how’s your head?” you ask him. 

“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”

a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 

“satoru, please.”

“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”

“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 

satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 

“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”

at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 

you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 

“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”

“hmm?”

you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 

“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“

“it’s hard, alright—“

“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 

“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”

“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”

you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.

he hums contentedly when you pull away.

“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”

you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.

“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”

he coos.

“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”

despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.

“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”

satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.

“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.

“no problem. now shoo.”

you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.

“ah, but i was wondering—“

“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.

“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“

“out!”

he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.

you take a deep breath.

you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.

[dejwrldarchived]

⤷‧₊˚ hiromi higuruma helps his bratty sub study for her bar exam.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, usage of y/n, reader is a law student, mentions of reader being the child of a judge, mentions of law, dom!hiromi, sub!reader, reader described to be very feminine and bratty, no cursed au, dom x sub dynamic, usage of toys (vibrating panties), oral (reader receiving), pet names (good girl, doll), mentions of pubes, praise kink (academical), bonus after care scene, written in third pov (hiromi’s), mdni

sticky note from deja — sometimes i think about dom hiromi higuruma and just sigh happily.

Hiromi passed his bar exam with flying colors. He didn’t do study groups. Simply studied alone and prioritized his time to balance being a law clerk, studying, and socializing to ensure a law firm hired him. But this woman didn’t do any of that and frankly, he was even shocked that she still wanted to pursue law at all. She graduated from law school with a high GPA, and wonderful recommendations from amazing professors, and her father was a prominent judge. Many can assume that her pretty looks and her legacy surname got her where she is today, but Hiromi has observed her in her element and when she was in her element she was a beast. 

So the older lawyer had no clue why she came to him with law books in her arm, her tote bag slung on her shoulders—tight coils sprawled on her head like a crown, and a tight suede tracksuit on as if she was stepping into her law class. But of course, when she had a problem, she came to him. When she needed a quick nut, she came to him. Needing someone to vent about when it came to her class rival, she came to him. Now it seemed she needed help studying for the exam and who did she come to, him.

But as an hour and thirty minutes went by, the young woman was not soaking up the information that Hiromi was going over. His eyes bored into the notebook, flashcards, and textbooks scattered across his desk. She watches as she twirls her pink pen around her fingers reading over the notes she jolted down, but he can just tell by the crinkle of her eyebrows that the information wasn’t going through that thick skull of hers. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she knew the information because she did. But he doubted she’d remember it for the exam. He leaned back into his comfortable black desk chair trying to rack his brain with a better studying technique before eventually he got an idea. An imaginary light bulb lit up over the top of the lawyer’s head.

“I think I have an idea.” He spoke out, causing her to stop her highlighting—which he was hoping she would do because the scent of the highlighter was already giving him a headache simply because she just had to have scented ones. 

This one smells like strawberries, smell it? Those were her exact words forty-five minutes ago as he was going over some laws on family laws. 

“Will it help me feel like the information I’m consuming is sticking and staying in my brain?” 

“Possibly,” was the only thing Hiromi answered before pulling himself out of his seat and disappearing from his office.

It was three things the woman that sat across from him enjoyed. Shopping, her father’s credit card, and sexual pleasure. If Hiromi had any more knowledge of psychology, he would have labeled Y/N as a nymphomaniac. 

When returned with the red velvet box, he sat the box on the table and she perked up happily, possibly thinking that this was a sparkly diamond necklace for her. 

“A gift? Aw, this definitely will help.” Her plush glossed lips spread into a smile. She claps her hands together in excitement sitting up in the chair. 

“It’s not a necklace, doll.” He points out. She opened the box revealing the black lace underwear that had a vibrator inside of them. 

He was going to use these at their anniversary dinner as a sub and dog duo, but he guessed he had to come up with another idea to make their dinner interesting. His gloomy eyes watched as her eyes lit up like fuckin’ fireworks. His assumption was right. He watches as she simply stands up ready to remove her underwear eagerly.

“I do think a quick sex session will help me focus a bit more. This is why I came to you. At first, I was going to join that one guy who knows Nanami's study group, but in my mind—I just knew you would have a better study idea.” She giggled as her hand went to untie her tracksuit bottoms to change into the other panties.

“No, we’re not doing that. Put the panties on and sit back down.” He scattered around his desk to give her time to change into the vibrating panties. 

He thought she was going to argue against what he said, but she didn’t. As quiet as can be, she’s shuffling to remove her underwear and replace it with the sexual treat that Hiromi graced upon her. While she changed, Hiromi was looking for the notebook that he used when he was studying for his bar exam. He knew it had a bunch of mock bar exam questions on there and thought they would help. When he found the book, he walked back to his desk and Y/N sat patiently waiting for him, she went back to reading her textbook without a care. 

Hiromi removed the box from the table, placing it on the ledge behind him after he grabbed the remote. He slammed the notebook on the table that looked like it’s been through centuries of war. He liked keeping it because it showed how far he had come from a law student to one of the best lawyers in the city. He skimmed through the pages before finding a page he wanted to start on. 

“A defendant is being prosecuted for conspiracy to possess methamphetamine with intent to distribute. At trial, the government seeks to have its agent testify to a conversation that he overheard between the defendant and a co-conspirator regarding the incoming shipment of a large quantity of methamphetamine. That conversation was also audiotaped, though critical portions of it are inaudible. The defendant objects to the testimony of the agent on the ground that it is not the best evidence of the conversation.” He pauses briefly to look at Y/N across from him. “Is the testimony of the agent admissible?” 

He watches as she brings her French tip manicured finger to her chin to think. He had a feeling she knew the answer, she told him about the paper she had done about admissible evidence. But as he watches her shoulders go upward and downward in an ‘I don’t know’ manner, Hiromi lets out a sigh before pressing the remote. The silence in his office was disrupted by the sound of the vibration. He watches as she jerks forward provocatively. He leans back in his seat.

“You know the answer to this, stop being a smart ass.” Hiromi’s slender fingers toyed with the small remote watching as she was withering forward in attempting to mask her moan.

“It’ll be admissible,” She breathes out. 

“Why?” Hiromi asked. 

For a quick second, he can see a glint of sexual frustration in her eyes. This was the first sexual encounter in a while due to him restricting them from it. He had a huge case coming up and she had to study for the bar exam. Sex would cloud their judgment on the tasks they had to do. 

“The best evidence rule does not require proof of the conversation through the audiotape.” 

He presses the button on the remote making the vibrator stop. “Good girl. I knew you knew that.” His lips crack a smile and he watches as she recomposes herself. 

“Next question.” Hiromi flips through the pages in his notebook. “Hypothetically thinking, say a person broke into a closed building to solely seek refuge due to a snowstorm. Can this person be convicted of burglary if that’s her defense?” His fingers were itching to press the button, but he had to hear her answer first.

“No.” 

“Why? Come on baby, you know they’re going to ask why?” 

“I’m not sure, let me think.” 

It didn’t take long before Hiromi pressed the button. Her moans echoed within the study while clasping her thighs closed to engulf the sudden vibration from the panties she wore. She falls back into the seat across from him and her body arches off of it briefly before she’s finally croaking out an explanation. 

“Burglary requires the intent to commit a crime upon entering a building and seeking shelter from a storm is not a criminal act. So, this hypothetical person can validate her claim.” 

“That’s right. You’re doing amazing with these questions. Just need it to stick in your brain, that’s all.” He reassures Y/N with a smile.

The quizzing went on for about thirty minutes, but Hiromi had lost track of time when he felt how tight his cock felt in his slacks. He was sure she had orgasmed multiple times from the vibrating panties just by the way her eyes drooped, her body slouching in the leather seat she was in, and the fact that he could see her hardened nipples through the sports bra after she had unzipped the hoodie of her tracksuit. She had this tendency where if he wasn’t touching her during little sessions, she had to touch herself. Which she did, right across from him—each time he flicked the remove on causing the vibrating on her pussy, she'd pinch her marbled nipples while uttering out a response to a random law question. 

“I think you deserve a break for today. You still have the weekend to study,” He pointed out as he tossed the remote back into its box. “Come here.” 

She’s hesitant at first and Hiromi can tell just by the way her lips part to argue and her eyebrows frown together. She wasn’t sure if she should cave and come forward or stay put just to feel the vibrating in between her thighs again. She knew that he knew she always defied him in some way just to get a rise out of him, but today—it seems her head was screwed on right. After all, Hiromi didn’t have to help Y/N study. Helping her study wasn’t a part of the contract, but he did—in such an odd sexy manner that caused her to be soaked between her thighs. 

As she tiptoed around the wooden desk, she was peeling off her clothes so provocatively that Hiromi couldn’t help but swallow the harsh knot that formed in his throat. He couldn’t wait for himself to be buried so far in between her sumptuous thighs that the only thing he could smell on his top lip was her essence. Hiromi spread his muscular thighs so that she could take place between them—looking down at him like she was Aphrodite and he was a man that she had just placed under a spell due to her elegance. His hand grabs her waist letting his hands caress every bump and curve of her body that he was obsessed with. From the stretch marks that decorate her mahogany skin to the small mole that was right near her belly button. 

“You drive me fuckin’ insane,” Hiromi finds himself saying. His dark eyes scan at how her lips spread into a grin. 

He grabs her, placing her on his desk without a sweat. The sound of textbooks and notebooks echoed through the office as he pulled himself further under the table. Her legs gaped so provocatively that in Hiromi’s mind, the Lady Justice statue on the shelf on his left probably wanted to clutch her pearls. Hiromi placed subtle kisses on her legs starting from her ankle which was decorated bejeweled with a diamond anklet. 

“You’re stalling. You know how much I want you right now, and you’re stalling.” The law student breathes as she leans back on the weight of her arms. 

Hiromi watches as her chest begins to rise rapidly with each kiss growing closer to her pussy. Her words went into one ear and out the other for the lawyer and when he was finally face to face with what his mouth salivated for, his eyes met with hers. Her eyes were pleading for something. A kiss. A nibble. A lick. Hell, even a blow. Anything to soothe the aching feeling on her clit. Y/N’s hand went down to palm at the wetness in between her thighs, so eager and impatient—but the stern lawyer stopped her. 

“Don’t fucking touch yourself, Y/N.” He commands. 

And there goes the tone she was longing for. Oh, that authoritarian tone that made her pussy clench when he used it. She relaxes under his touch and lets him do his work. “If you’re going to take so long, I might as well finish off by myself.” Y/N comments. 

“You talk so much, do you love hearing yourself talk?” 

“And you are doing so much talking for a man whose mouth should be stuffed with my pus—”

Her words were interrupted by the feeling of Hiromi’s tongue dragging upon her panties. He pulled them to the side swiftly and finally was granted what he wanted all along. The flat of his tongue licks up her pussy lips collecting her juices like a man that was deprived of water for days. He moans at the taste of her and his hands grab at her waist to pull her closer. His eyes flutter close as he’s lapping at her puffy pussy lips at the sound of her moans. Her fingers entangled in his hair as her hips grind against his face. She wasn’t sure what was turning her on more. The way his face was buried into her pussy or how attractive it looked as his nose was nuzzling against her pubes. 

“Fuck.” She moans out, her toes curling at the feeling of his tongue flicking her clit. 

Hiromi detaches himself from her briefly, peppering soft kisses on her trembling thighs before devouring her whole again. The thing about Hiromi is that he knew how her body would react to certain things. He knew how her pussy clenched around his cock when he gave her neck a little squeeze. He knew that she was in between a squirter and creamer depending on the task. Squirting when he’s fingering her with a vibrator practically glued upon her clit. Creamer when he’s forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her after begging him to cum inside her (but to Hiromi, having his cum inside her is merely a privilege). So of course, he knew using his tongue to trace alongside the drooling entrance of her pussy was going to have her pushing herself forward for more. The mere feeling of his tongue invading her in such a manner that had her a trembling and whimpering mess was something Hiromi knew about her. 

Hiromi lets out a moan at how good she tastes. The taste of Y/N has graced his tongue countless times and he still ate her out as if it was the best meal he has tasted. With each squirm in his arms, he’s flicking his tongue slower on her clit. With each moan of his name that slips by her plush lips, he’s granting her more licks and sucks. He wanted to see her come undone right here. He could feel it just by the way her thighs were poorly attempting to entrap his head by shutting them. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh after he removes himself from her pussy, “Do you want to cum, Y/N?” 

“I do. I want to cum.” She whines.

“Then fuckin’ act like it.” 

Y/N obediently nods, her snarky comment jammed into her throat before she let Hiromi spread her thighs even wider than what they were before. Her clit throbbing to be in his mouth again and he graciously granted her wish. Like a deprived man, Hiromi snuggled his nose back into her pubes as if he belonged there. Y/N was aware that Hiromi knew she was about to cum. He had this tendency to hold onto her as if she would turn into dust in his arms—as if he didn’t want to let her go. That’s what he was currently doing as her orgasm was spilling over. One hand gripping her in place (that she knew would leave a bruise) and the other palming his hardened cock through his pants.

Just with the flick of his tongue, an explosive feeling causes Y/N to let out a dragged-out moan. Her back lays back on the desk as Hiromi’s tongue helps her ride out the orgasm. Her French pedicured toes curl at the feeling of that fiery pit in her stomach shattering so intensely it brought tears to her eyes. Her fingers tugged at his black strands of hair as if they were a handle holding her up from falling. When she heard him remove himself from her with a pop, Hiromi leaned back in his seat with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

After Y/N came down from the euphoria of cumming in Hiromi’s mouth, she sat up on her elbows with a pleased look on her face. She knew after any sexual intercourse with the high-profile lawyer, he just had to include aftercare in the special package. He may have gotten off at the thought of seeing her tied up with rope, handcuffed to his headboard, or mouth gagged with his cock—but he was very serious when it came to aftercare. The two soon settled for a bath to end the evening. The warmth of the water engulfed their bodies as they were in the large bathtub filled with scented soap and rose petals. Hiromi’s head fell back to be met with the marbled tile and he let out a relaxing sigh, the scent of Y/N lingering on his upper lip and tongue. 

“I have a confession to make..” Y/N leans further back on him, relaxing under the warmth of both the water and Hiromi’s body. 

“Hm.” He hums lightly letting his eyes flutter back open.

“I’m actually well prepared for the bar exam. Took a practice bar exam a week ago and according to my professor—if it was the real one, I would have passed.” She happily sighs letting her fingers play with the bubbles in the tub. 

“What?” Hiromi glares at the back of her head with a displeased look.

“I woke up this morning with a student and tutor sex fantasy, silly.” 

“You will be the death of me.” 

⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @tojiscumdumpster @salaciousdoll @thithesandofferings @tachibannaa @shinsousliya @sinistersnakey1427 @gothogue @rhionnajones @jamaicanqueenaa @dxmb-luv @0hmyg0th @ryukenzz @dancingwithdeities @getosbunny @hvly @racconwarrer @aiyaaayei @torapologist @strawhatsav @msdrpreist @neesieiumz @strawberrymuffinlovin @consternat1on @photosbyameil

thanks for reading. <3

[ellecdc]

hi! so i was wondering if i could make a request of poly!jegulus x reader fic where the reader goes out to maybe a bachelorette party or smth and gets drunk and james and regulus takes care of her afterwards? if not then no worries! hope you have an amazing day!

thanks so much darling! I love our little Jegulus fics <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!Jegulus x fem!reader who they pick up from a bachelorette

Regulus tried to ignore the strobe lights and the booming bass that currently accosted his senses as he pushed through the masses of sweaty bodies and drunk people “dancing” in his mission to find you.

Fortunately he needn’t search long.

Unfortunately, his and James’ appearance elicited blood curdling squealing from the bachelorette party you were currently attending.

The bride (Alice) and maid of honour (Lily) started wolf whistling at the two boys and Regulus was certain it was Marlene who started the chant “take it off!”

Much to Regulus’ chagrin and to everyone else's joy, James actually started lifting his shirt before Regulus pinched him harshly in the side.

“James Fleamont Potter, you keep your sodding clothes on!” Regulus hissed before his eyes finally landed on you.

He ignored what sounded like a petulant “I was only giving the ladies what they wanted” from James as he crouched in front of you.

Regulus tried (and failed) to control his love sick smile as your foggy gaze cleared when you realised who was suddenly situated in front of you.

“Regulus!” You cheered, your mouth hanging open in a permanent smile as if you couldn’t possibly believe he was truly here.

“And James!” James added as he sat beside you on the pleather settee and roughly pulled you into his side. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You slurred slightly as you looked lovingly between your two boyfriends. 

Regulus felt his eyebrows pinch, but James - ever the master of nonchalance - simply pressed a kiss to your hair. “You asked us to come for you, angel.” He explained plainly.

Your eyebrows pinched to match Regulus’ as you let out a quiet “oh.” 

“Well, that was ver-very smart of me.” You declared through a hiccup. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” James asked as he rubbed your arm and Regulus confirmed that all of your belongings were safely stored within your purse.

“I was just thinking how much I, how much I would like to be home with my boys now.” You admitted in a sigh, letting your head - which seemed to weigh far too much for your neck - fall onto James’ all-too-willing shoulder.

“Awe, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” James murmured, earning him a snort from Dorcas. 

“Right, you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart there Potter - which one of you taught her how to play poker?” Dorcas sneered, causing James to bark a laugh, you to hide shyly into his shoulder, and Regulus to grin proudly.

“Did you take them for all they’re worth, amour?” He whispered as he encouraged your face from its sanctuary in James with a gentle hand on your chin.

“Of course she did.” James answered for you, blowing a cheeky raspberry over your head at your friends. “She’s an all-star.”

Dorcas laughed good naturedly as Lily rolled her eyes fondly. “That may be; but she’s officially banned from playing with us.”

“Fair enough.” Regulus admitted as he smiled at your petulant pout and helped you stand like a baby fawn in your heels. 

“How’s everyone else getting home?” James asked the other girls as he supported you with a gentle arm around your waist.

Dorcas, Marlene, and Pandora were getting a ride from Barty and Evan, and Lily, Mary, and Alice were getting picked up by Frank.

After far too many hugs and cheek kisses and what looked like the beginning of tears on Pandora’s part as Regulus finally pried you away from the group, you clumsily made your way into the back of Regulus’ waiting car with James. 

“Did you have fun tonight, sweets?” James asked as he ensured your buckle was properly clasped. 

“Oh, yes.” You declared breathlessly; as if being chaperoned to the car, basically lifted in and buckled up was exhausting work. 

The streets were quiet at this time of night and Regulus enjoyed the comfortable silence that came over the three of you as he stole sneaky glances over his shoulder, sharing soft smiles with James at having their girl back.

“What time is it?” You asked urgently; your tone and words suddenly sounding half-sober as you interrupted the serenity of the car.

“It’s almost three, amour.” Regulus answered, peaking in the rearview mirror to see you staring straight ahead and James looking at the side of your face concernedly as Regulus navigated the quiet, lamp lit streets. 

“In the morning!?” You shrilled, causing James to snort a laugh and rub at your hairline with his thumb as he rested his hand at the nape of your neck. 

“Yes, baby. In the morning; that’s usually when the party’s over, yeah?”

“Did I wake you guys up?” You asked far too shyly for Regulus’ liking.

“Of course not, amour.” Regulus responded quickly, which was followed up with a “we stayed up waiting for you” from James.

Regulus heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips, the sound of James pressing a kiss to your hair, and then nothing but the sound of the tires on the road beneath you for a few moments.

Suddenly, disturbingly, upsettingly; he heard a sniffle.

Regulus immediately took his foot off the gas as he looked at you through the mirror to find your face pointed down in your lap and James leaning forward in an attempt to see your face.

“What’s the matter, angel?”

“Do you feel okay?” Regulus asked quickly, worrying you may be sick.

“I feel fine.” You cried quietly; Regulus could just make out what looked like the fall of a fat tear from your eyes where your head was lowered.

“What are the tears for, sweetheart?” James asked again, trying to encourage you to face him which you stubbornly refused.

“Why is she crying, Jamie?” Regulus asked desperately.

He pretended he didn’t see James shoot him an unimpressed look in the rearview mirror.

“Amour?” He whispered which elicited a quiet sob from you.

Regulus - only slightly unsafely - hastily pulled onto a side street and parked the car before he moved out of his seat, opened your door and crouched beside you.

“Amour, please darling. What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel sick?” James asked, still rubbing affectionately at the nape of your neck. You quickly shook your head no.

Regulus was at least a little relieved you weren’t about to sick up on him.

“Why are you crying, mon cheri?” He whispered, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear and tracing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You guys are so lovely.” You admitted miserably.

“Angel.” James cooed as he roughly rubbed between your shoulders as if trying to ‘shake you out of it’. “You’re crying because your boyfriends are lovely?”

“Yes.” You sobbed and hid your face in your hands.

“Okay, that’s it.” Regulus demanded as he stood and closed your door gently before walking around the car and opening up James’.

“You’re fired. Get out.” He barked simply.

James let out a disbelieving laugh and looked at Regulus strangely. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have our sweet girl sobbing back here.” He explained (overdramatically) as he flung a hand in your direction. “So, you’re fired; you have to drive now.”

James couldn’t help the fond grin that took over his face (the kind Regulus loved the most; the kind that resulted in two dimples instead of just the usual one) as he shook his head in exasperation and acquiesced to his new role as chauffeur. 

“Okay amour, that’s enough now, yeah? You had a good night? Lot’s of fun with the girls? And two boys who love you a lot?” Regulus cooed as he took James’ recently vacated seat.

“I know!” You cried and flung your hands into your lap. “I’m so lucky!”

Regulus made an embarrassingly gooey ‘tsking’ sound as James laughed.

“Thank you, but we’re the lucky ones, angel.”

This just caused you to cry harder.

Regulus could have killed James right then and there if he didn’t look so sodding good behind the wheel of his car.

He’d deal with him later, though; for now, he had a sweet drunk lovie to snuggle.

[doumadono]

Katsuki and Reader as Academic rivals/enemies during their college years but is actually messing around behind close doors. For sinful sunday!!<3

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, fem!reader, rough oral (f receiving), fingering, pro hero Bakugo

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

"You're late," Bakugo growls, his voice edged with impatience as he glares at you from the doorway.

You smirk, brushing past him. "Didn't know the great Dynamight had a bedtime like a preschooler."

"Shut up," he snaps as he closes the door behind you. "You know I don't like waiting."

"And yet here we are," you retort, throwing your bag on his couch with a casual toss. 

The apartment is spacious, minimalist in its decor, with a few hints of Bakugo's personality — trophies from his hero work, a stack of fitness magazines, and a well-worn punching bag in the corner.

"Still can't believe we're doing this," he mutters, following you into the living room.

"Which part?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "The studying, or the fact that we're doing it together?"

Bakugo's scowl deepens. "Both."

You laugh, settling into the couch and pulling out your notes. "Just like old times, huh? Except now we're not stuck in that cramped library."

He huffs, flopping down beside you. "Yeah, but you still haven't gotten any less annoying."

"And you haven't gotten any less competitive," you shoot back, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, the same one that always flared when the two of you clashed in college. 

You and Bakugo had been academic rivals since your first year at UA High School. Both fiercely competitive and driven, you clashed in every class, constantly trying to outdo each other in hero training exercises and exams. The rivalry continued into college, where you found yourselves in the same courses, your mutual determination pushing you to excel. 

Despite the animosity, there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a spark that neither of you acknowledged but both felt deeply. 

Now, years later, with Bakugo as a top Pro Hero and you excelling in your own career, the competitive fire still burns. Especially when the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight fails yet another mandatory training session assigned to him by the Hero Commission.

Bakugo grabs a stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours accidentally. 

The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

"So, where were we?" he asks, his voice a little rougher.

"Here," you say, pointing to a highlighted section. "The analysis of hero efficiency metrics. You were going to show me how you applied it to your latest mission."

He nods, leaning closer. The heat from his body is distracting, and you find it hard to concentrate as he explains the data. His voice is low, the words rolling over you as you watch the way his lips move, the intensity in his eyes.

"...and that's how I optimized the response time," he finishes, looking up at you expectantly.

You blink, realizing you've barely absorbed a word. "Right. Makes sense."

He narrows his eyes. "You're not even listening, are ya, Y/N?"

"I am!" you protest, but he doesn't buy it.

"Prove it," he challenges, leaning even closer. "Explain it back to me."

Your mind races, trying to piece together what he said, but all you can think about is how close he is, the smell of his cologne, the way his breath brushes against your skin. "I, um..."

His smirk is infuriating. "Thought so, smartass."

"You're impossible," you mutter, but there's no heat in your words.

"And you're distracted," he counters. "Wonder why that is."

You glare at him, but he's right. "Maybe it's because you're in my personal space," you say, but even as you say it, you don't move away.

"Maybe you like it," he shoots back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that's more a battle than a caress. It's messy, desperate, and full of the same fire that always ignited when you were around each other.

Bakugo responds instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, it's everything you've been denying yourself for years. 

You break apart, both of you breathing hard. "This doesn't change anything," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. "No, it doesn't. But it sure as hell makes things more interesting."

You laugh, a breathless sound that turns into a moan as he captures your mouth again. 

This time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss is fierce, and you can feel the same hunger in him that burns in you.

Bakugo pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming your back as he presses you closer. The feel of his hard muscles against you, the heat of his skin, it's all intoxicating. 

You grind against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat.

"God, you're so fucking impatient," he mutters against your lips, but his hands are gentle as they slip under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath.

"You love it," you tease, arching into his touch.

"Maybe I do," he admits, his voice rough with desire. "But don't think this means you've won."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you reply, your hands busy unbuttoning his shirt. 

His shirt comes off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, neither of you willing to break the kiss for more than a few seconds.  

You trail kisses down his neck, savoring the way he shudders beneath you.

Bakugo flips you onto your back, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks down at you. "You're still a pain in my ass," he growls. His body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him a delicious reminder of his strength and power. 

You feel his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His mouth is on you instantly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the swell of your breasts.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. 

You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as you hold him close. 

He groans in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

You can feel yourself growing wetter.

"Fuck," he mutters, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and moving to the other one. His free hand roams lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With a rough tug, he pulls them down.

“Bakugo,” you basically growl at him, demanding his attention.

"Patience," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Good things come to those who wait."

But you're beyond waiting. You need him now. You reach down and grab his hand, guiding it to where you're aching for him - right between the thighs you willingly part just for him.

Bakugo's fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties, watching as your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Do you like that, baby?" he growls in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to rub you through the thin fabric. You’re so wet already, he can feel it seeping through your panties and onto his fingers.

Bakugo grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your parted legs. 

You lift your hips to help him, and soon you’re lying naked before him.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out on the couch like a feast. Your skin is soft and smooth, your breasts are full and round, and your pussy is glistening with wetness, just for him.

His fingers slip inside you easily. You’re oh so tight, he can feel your muscles clenching around his digits as he moves them in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praises, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes, just like that."

Bakugo's fingers curl inside you, hitting all the right spots. 

You can feel yourself already getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke. And then, just as you think you can't take it any longer, he stops.

You whimper in protest, but he just smirks. 

"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you first."

Before you can react, he's sliding down your body, his mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. 

You moan as he kisses and licks his way closer to your mound, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

And then, finally, his tongue is on your clit, teasing and flicking in a way that makes your whole body shudder. You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the slick slide of his tongue. It's obscene and you can't get enough of it. You buck your hips, grinding against his face as he devours you.

"Oh god, Bakugo," you moan, your voice hoarse. "I'm going to come."

He just hums in response, his tongue working harder, faster. He uses his thumb to roll your clitty in a circle, pushing the upper portion of your outer lips aside. As Bakugo plays with your little, swollen pearl, your lower lips begin to glisten, then open, and after a longer moment of playing while your breathing quickens, a thin string of crystalized dew falls from your juicy pink slit.

“Just like that, just like that!” you are a moaning mess beneath him.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls lowly, watching your body writhe, feeling the intense strain as his sweatpants become painfully tight. Bakugo doesn't stop, though. He keeps licking and sucking. He licks up through your soft folds like a dog, lapping at your cunny juices as if his life depends on it. He then curls and straightens his calloused fingers several times, petting the underside of your mound from within. “Cum for me, I wanna see you cumming hard for me,” Bakugo commands.

Your clit throbs in his mouth as he sucks the little pearl in, finger-fucking your slick, drenched pussy.

A high pitched whimper cuts off your words. Your stomach heaves, your ass shakes, and you feed Bakugo your muff with a sexy, up and down grinding motion that runs your pussy all over his slightly unshaven face. You tighten your grip on his ash-blonde hair and pull him against your pussy, mashing your clit between his tongue and your own pubic bone.

Finally, Katsuki pulls away, his face glistening with your juices.

"Fuck," you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "That was incredible."

Bakugo just grins, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome," he says. Bakugo licks and kisses his way up your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply before pulling back. "You know this doesn't mean I'm ever going to go easy on you," he says, grinding his crotch against your slick folds.

The unmistakable hardness pressing against you is making you acutely aware of how hard he is — how hard you've made him just with your moans and pussy.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Yeah, I know. But quit this shit now and fuck me like I know you've always wanted to."

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

[lovetei]

may u do how the om brothers would act with a bimbo mc who's like ..... scarily dumb 💀 like think Karen Smith x10 (gn mc but i don't remember the gn word for bimbo😭i think it's like thembo or something but im not sure. english isnt my first language so i might have made some mistakes😅)

I think bimbos are cute 🤭🤭

I fully believe getting treated like this by them would solve 99 percent of my problems.

--------------------------------------------------

How would the brothers react to an MC who is a complete bimbo?

Warnings: Grammar errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, readers gender is not specified (even though bimbo is used to degrade a beautiful but unintelligent woman or frivolous young woman, I used "bimbo" in this scenario as someone who's attractive but unintelligent), slight dark themes, slightly deregatory

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

At first, he found you annoying

How come your only solution to problems is "Be pretty"

It's insane how stupid you were, what do you mean you don't know how to spell the orange fruit?

But soon after, he started to find you interesting

After meeting you, he believed that it's not the professionals that are dangerous, it's the newbies

It's interesting how they can never guess what's your next move

When you two got in a more romantic relationship though, he started treating you like a complete child

You would sit on his lap in a meeting while swinging your feet and you asked him, "Luci baby~ what's the investment thing you're talking about? Is that like, shopping?"

He would just chuckle and squeeze your cheek softly, "Don't think about it, little MC don't need to worry their pretty little head over something so trivial~"

MAMMON

Even though people think of him as someone who's as stupid as you

He proves them wrong when he started to act like a complete mature man around you

No funny pranks or anything, he's just taking care of you because "How can his pretty little survive in hell without him, hmm?~"

And you'll just giggle at him and continue clinging on his arm

He would walk around the academy and each time, it's either he's holding you or your stuffs

Some people would find your things on his bag and he'd just shrug it off

Though at first, he thought you as a nuisance

He started to like it how you depend on him so much

"Mams how do I use this??"

"Mams don't leave!~~"

Oh, how his heart speed up whenever you ask him for help for the smallest of things

It's alright, MC, this strong demon will protect this pretty little human.

LEVIATHAN

He hated how you used to look at him like he's some animal in a zoo

"What?? How come little Levi don't like going in parties?!"

With those pretty, glossy lips of yours and that tiny brain in your head.

He hated how you wore your uniform, can't you see how innapopriate your uniform is?!

Is the skirt supposed to be that short?!

Is that shirt supposed to have only three buttons closed?!

Why is your pants so tight?!

But once you got close to him

Oh, the contrast between the two of you made others heart flutter

Other people saw it as "Discord mod x d kitten" in the best way

But his brothers

They saw it as "the nastiest pervert x the prettiest girl"

You don't want to know why

He'll just be there sitting with his arms around your waist grumbling, "Ah, people are so noisy... Let's just stay in my room, okay?"

If that's the only thing he'll say, you might find it normal but of course, he has to say something to ruin it

"This pretty sheep won't refuse me now, will they? After all the snacks and candies I've given them, this pretty sheep will sure come with me, right?"

SATAN

As someone who values knowledge and education more than anyone among the brothers

You must've thought he'll hate you

Well, you're right

At first

Everytime your test exams will come back, he'll be the one to sigh the loudest

But after the tutoring session Lucifer planned for the two of you, to help you increase your scores

It's been different

Well, it's not like you're studying, psh, never

Satan gives you cheat sheets or tells you the answers secretly

He'll be next to you every exam and his hand will secretly on your thighs, or sometimes, even higher

Then he'll caress your skin to tell you the answer

Of course, after exams scores are released you have to give him a reward

One kiss for every correct answer, that's the reward

But since you wished for it, he'll pretend to be a good tutor and act like you really studied instead of cheating

"Ah, my baby is so smart~ look, the only thing you got wrong is the last part! Butt that's okay, it's really hard, especially for someone as innocent as my baby..."

Then he'll pepper your face with kisses

ASMODEUS

You two are a match made in heaven and hell

The moment you arrived with those leopard prints, he knew you two will have fun together

Shipping sprees and all

The internet will break everytime you two post on social media

He'll help you get in the high society of Devildom

And of course, get you a pass to the freakiest parties in hell

You two are practically beasts in parties

The most breath taking clothes and the sexiest proportions, what a combo

And the two of you will drunkly stumble inside the house, well, you will.

He's the only person who knew about you and Satan's little deal too

"Hi my prettiest baby! How's my apprentice doing?!~" He said while squeezing your cheeks

Yes, your cheeks

It doesn't matter if it's the cheeks on your face or your ass

He's squeezing them

BEELZEBUB

He wasn't annoyed or anything

In fact, he's worried for you

"It's okay, MC. I will protect you, just tell me whoever says mean things about you."

He acts like your body guard

Always beside you whenever you have to go by yourself, we'll, not by yourself anymore

Always carrying your bags

Your little make up

Holding your clothes as you shop

Paying for you

Everything, who knew who might take advantage of you if he isn't there

That's not all

He's always carrying you too

"My feet hurts so bad! Beel!"

Is how all of it started

The next day, and so on

Everytime he sees you, he's scooping you up and carrying you on his arms

BELPHEGOR

He knew you were dumb

Please, he has this sense where he can find out if someone is dumb just by hearing them form a sentence

And so far, yours is the most... You know.

He's one of the most manipulative, but also one of the most protective

He hates it when someone else use his dirty tactics on you

But that stop him from doing those dirty tactics on you again

He just loves it when you're so... Naive.

He chuckles everytime you tried to think for yourself once in a blue moon and would ruin it with a,

"Shhh... Don't think about pretty, it's better when you're dumb and dependent."

And you, who sadly didn't take that as an insult, just nodded and made him chuckle even more

Gosh, he wonders how much it will take for you to break.

[hellyeahsickaf]

The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting

The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help

I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story

They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain

But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me

She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in

And he laughed.

Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling

He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start

I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.

Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 1: The Lightning Thief

All I could think of was that the teacher's must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. oh he was one of those guys

"I believe that was question 38 on your final exam..." He [Chiron] looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question 38. once a teacher always a teacher

A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. We got a hint of dark Percy in book 1

I'd been afraid he [Luke] might resent me for getting so much attention the last few days. But here he was giving me a magic gift... It made me blush almost as much as Annabeth. tell me again this boy did not have a crush on Luke

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared - core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologise, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. I love moments of them being able to just be kids

She [Annabeth] loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. I think the fandom forgets this too

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" Percy is so smart and so good at thinking on his feet, I'm tired of the fandom treating him like he's dumb

I was feeling satisfied after the burger, and a little sleepy, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. He's so sweet. Even if the host was Medusa

"I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me [Echidna]." As someone currently living in Australia, this cracked me up.

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you." I love Grover and Percy and their friendship, very under appreciated

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes you are. he's hilarious

A steely look of anger flared in my mother's eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own. I also love Sally Jackson

that's all, I'll be back for sea of monsters :)

[kc5rings]

Saw some discussion about it so I’ve been thinking about Arknights designs and what sets it apart for me/why it got me in the first place and I think it really comes down to the designs on the 3 star units, Beagle, Kroos, and Fang in particular. (Hibiscus too but to a lesser extent for reasons I’ll get to in a sec)

The low star units are gonna be most peoples first exposure to the games designs, especially when I first started at launch and the pool of units was just way smaller in general. I remember thinking it was cool that they all had company logo’s/ID’s etc to group them together, even if out the gate I didn’t what RI really was or did yet, they clearly belonged to the same group

Getting several three stars out the gate I appreciated seeing that Hibiscus, my first medic, was wearing the same kind of blue exam gloves that I’d used in my previous career in the medical field. It felt like a good bit of attention to detail, the medic wearing realistic gloves despite the otherwise tacticool designs, neat!

But I then remember noticing it on Fang first, and then on Kroos and Beagle as well as I gathered my starting roster, they all wore those same nitrile exam gloves I was familiar with. Now it made sense for the medic but why was my frontline Lancer wearing medic equipment?

Of course shortly after that early confusion I continued the story and learned more about what Rhodes is, a medical company first and foremost. It was very cool to me to realize that the groundwork for what kind of place RI is was laid in my mind by that small practical character detail

Rhodes Island is a pharmaceutical company, so it’s basic rank and file are reminiscent of medical first responders. Those gloves aren’t practical for wielding a spear or firing a crossbow, but they are evocative of what Rhodes is here to do so the feeling comes across and circles back around to seeming practical

A friend of mine who works in game dev occasionally says “people don’t want realism as often as they say they do, they want believable.” and I think this is a good example of that for me. Those gloves make me believe the person wearing them is here to do medical relief or give aid despite wielding a spear, shield or crossbow

They say to me “I’m here to help”

There’s been some highs and lows of designs since then, but I think that detail of the three star designs is what really sold me on the practicool vibes Arknights uses a lot and why I’ve come to enjoy it in some of their other looks

[shanastoryteller]

happy winter time! naruto, dealer's choice. thank you!

a continuation of 1

Sakura is terrified that she’s going to mess this up.

Naruto’s never been mean to her, and has complimented her hair several times, but they’re not really friends. Back when she was friends with Ino, she’d see her at the Yamanaka compound sometimes and they’d play together, but she doubts Naruto remembers that.

Sakura doesn’t think she and Sasuke have ever had an actual conversation. He used to be the center of all their competitive crushes, to his hilarious dismay, but then he got betrothed to Naruto and no one was willing to piss off the hokage’s daughter by flirting with her fiance.

Well, besides Ino, but everyone knows she does it just because Sasuke hates it and Naruto feels duty bound to defend him.

Also because Shikamaru ended up taking Sasuke’s place as Cutest (and Available) Boy and Ino would rather stab herself in the eye than bat her eyelashes at Shikamaru, even if that means there’s a social game she can’t win.

Sakura's on a team with son of the Uchiha clan head and the hokage’s daughter, Rookie of the Year and Top Kunoichi, and their sensei isn’t even some normal jounin, but the Inuzuka clan head.

Tsume-sensei seems dismayed when they pass, although Sakura thinks she should have expected this. Naruto and Sasuke have been working as a team for even longer than they’ve been engaged.

Maybe she’s just surprised that they folded Sakura in with them instead of leaving her behind. Honestly, she’s pretty surprised by that too.

“Does this mean we get a dog?” Naruto asks brightly as Sasuke picks twigs out of her hair. “Mom says I only get one pet and doesn’t believe me that the frog doesn’t count.”

“No,” Tsume-sensei snaps, then, “Maybe, I don’t know. I hadn’t actually expected that I’d have to train you, fuck.”

Sakura can’t see this going well.

~

Naruto walks home with Sasuke, because her mother is working late to avoid her father and her father is working late to avoid the fact that her mother is working late to avoid him.

She wishes they’d just get a divorce. Maybe they will now that she’s legally an adult. Maybe she’ll move out and take herself out of the equation.

She won’t. But she thinks about it a lot.

“Maybe it’s good that it’s Tsume,” she says. “Sakura’s biggest weakness is her conditioning and you know that Tsume will train us into the dirt.”

Sasuke hums. “Maybe we should introduce her to Gai.”

She stares. “Do you hate Sakura?”

“She’s fine,” he says dismissively. “It’s too bad we didn’t get Hinata, but both my father and hers would have thrown a fit and gone to complain to yours. He’s the best at taijutsu, if she joins Team Nine’s morning workouts then she’ll be up to par in no time.”

“If it doesn’t kill her,” Naruto says dryly. “Why don’t we see what Tsume cooks up first, yeah? The first chunin exam is months away. She has time.”

“How do you know Tsume will sign us up for that one?” he asks, although by the glint in his eye he already knows.

Naruto answers anyway. “Tsume is going to take the first opportunity to get rid of us that she can, which would be the chunin exams. She’ll be praying for us to either pass or die.”

He laughs, a breathy sound that wouldn’t qualify coming from anyone else.

They arrive at the Uchiha compound and she stares at it wistfully. After helping uncover the almost betrayal, every Uchiha is nice to her now. The compound is so warm and bright and everyone is happy to see her and there’s always somewhere she can go.

“You can join me,” Sasuke says. “Mom always makes extra.”

Just in case she shows up.

“They’ll be expecting me to be home after the test,” she says, trying not to sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sasuke nods, a pinched look on his face that she pretends not to notice.

When they get married, she hopes they live in the compound.

[i314flix]

— PART ONE, PART TWO.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 3k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!

Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.

As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.

They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.

When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.

But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.

“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”

“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”

You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”

“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”

He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”

“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”

“Wow. I never knew.”

“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”

You both laughed.

You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.

Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.

So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.

“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.

Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”

“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”

“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.

“Hm?”

“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.

“Oh, I really don’t.”

“Sirius…”

“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.

There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.

“It was nice.” You told him finally.

“Just nice?”

“Wonderful,” you corrected.

He nodded solemnly, waiting.

“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”

He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”

He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”

Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.

For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.

You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.

Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.

Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.

The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.

You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.

You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.

It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”

“I do.”

“Which means you really have to go to bed.”

“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”

“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”

“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”

You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”

“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”

Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”

“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”

“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”

In your silence, he got the answer he needed.

“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”

“Sometimes they have a point, though.”

“Such as?”

“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”

He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”

“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”

 “Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”

You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”

“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”

“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”

“What?”

“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”

“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”

Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.

So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.

Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.

“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”

He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”

You both laughed at his statement.

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.

“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”

“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”

Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”

“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”

Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.

“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.

You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.

He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“But—”

“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”

“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.

You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”

He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”

“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”

“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”

He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“Sirius.”

“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.

You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.

Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.

For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[impactedfates]

L Bozo Ratio!! - Dr Ratio x GN!Reader

★ Notes: I couldn't think of a better name haha, finally got to finishing and posting this!! This is slightly in a scenario format. They’ll be mini time stamps ^^ It's a kind weird format but it's one that made sense at the time of writing it

☆ Characters Included: Dr Ratio (Romantic) + Aventurine (Supporting)

★ Genre/Trope: (one-sided) Rivals to Lovers (but no one gets together yet) + Fluff + Crack(?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Dr Ratio may be OOC // I'm not actually sure if the Intelligentsia Guild has a school but just pretend for the fic // Not fully proof-read // First half may be slightly dialogue heavy

“And you’re sure you don’t know when this started?”

The blonde asked as he shuffled some cards, peering at you through his heart shaped glasses

“Positive!! He was decently kind to me when I first joined the Guild. I don’t know what happened!!”

Aventurine chuckled, dealing out the cards between the two of you.

“If I know the doctor, I know he wouldn’t dislike someone for a reason-”

“He dislikes me?? Why! I didn’t-”

“Let me finish [Name]. He’s not someone who dislikes another for no reason, and I do believe you haven’t done anything wrong. So perhaps there’s a different reason why he acts this why”

He slowly places the remaining cards down, looking at you with a small smile that almost hinted he already had an idea.

“Now tell me the whole story, how you met and how it started. And the things that happened afterwards, just tell me everything from the start to now”

"Huh- Uh okay?"

.

.

.

HOW YOU TWO MET

You had just joined the Intelligentsia Guild. Setting up your classroom and preparing for future lessons with the students who had already signed up for your course when you heard a knock on the door.

You went and opened it and were met with the eyes of a purple haired man who stared at you.

"You must be the one everyone's talking about. I am Veritas Ratio, but many here just call me Dr Ratio"

He speaks before you could welcome him or even utter a greeting. You only smiled before responding yourself.

"People are already talking about me? That makes me a bit nervous...but yes, I'm the new teacher here. You can call me [Name]"

"No ones talking ill about you, don't fret. I just came by to introduce myself. If you ever need anything, my room is just down the hall. Just don't interrupt too much, especially if I'm teaching"

"Oh! Thank you Dr Ratio. I appreciate the help"

He peered inside the room, taking a small look around at the decorating you had down so far.

"Perhaps call an interior designer before you start your lessons, you may need it"

"WHA- Hey! I'm not even do-"

But he was already off walking down the hall before you could finish. With a sigh escaping your lips, you closed your classroom door again to continue decorating

WHEN IT STARTED

You weren't sure on the exact date, I mean who could name the exact date someone randomly seemed to despise you when you thought you had a good relationship?

Sure you weren't close with Dr Ratio, but you weren't exactly not friends with him either. You two would chat, especially when the two of you had free time, but one day he just ignored you?

You weren't sure why, until some of the yearly exam results came out and he proudly showed how well his students did. You were confused at the sudden appearance but it wasn't unwelcomed as you happily showed your classes results as well.

"Our students are pretty smart!! All our classes passed with flying colours"

You happily said as you slid over the total marks your classes did. You expected him to congratulate you or...something? You weren't sure what to expect from his reaction, but not for him to glare at the score, throwing his paper carelessly and walking out, turning to face you. He said in a determined voice. "I'll beat you next time Mx. [Name]"

"...Beat me in wha-"

He slammed your classroom door...

You grabbed the paper from the ground and double checked the two scores, there must be a big difference if he suddenly challenged you or well...vowed? To get a higher score than your class? Even if it was out of character for him to care-

.

.

.

A 1% difference...?

DURING THE "RIVALRY"

You tried to talk to him, tried to pinpoint why he suddenly cared so much about "beating" your class in test and exam scores. Sure you didn't know him that well, but at the same time? You knew it wasn't in his nature to care about this kind of thing.

Honestly you didn't know anyone who would actually care...

It was just test scores, just showing how well the two of you taught a class...he wasn't trying to show he was a better teacher right...?

Sure the students praised you more but that was merely cuz he was stricter with his teachers. Apparently he threw someone out the window?? At least that's what you heard in passing...

In any case, you couldn't think of a logical conclusion as to why he suddenly wanted to have this sudden rivalry. But you wanted to find out.

You tried to talk to him, knock on his door a few times a month to talk to him, giving him his favourite food. Heck you even gave back the chalk you accidentally on purpose forgot to give back to him.

But he was dry with his response, looking away when you tried to talk to him or heck even smiled at him.

YOUR SMILE WAS NOT THAT BAD.

This became such a habit the other teachers noticed. They already noticed how kindly Dr Ratio already treated you compared to the others when you first joined, and when he became more cold and dry to you they noticed more.

You could see their lingering stares as the scholar once again shut his book with one hand and walked off without another word to you. You tried asking the other scholars but they weren't sure what was going on either. None of them have dealt with this so-called rivalry.

You knocked on his door once again, to which he slowly opened. Being accustomed to the soft knocks that came from your hand.

"Ratio!! I brought you some Stargazer cake!!"

"....many thanks [Name]"

He muttered, taking the plate from your hands.

"So I just wanted to-"

He shut the door in your face...again. Does he have a thing for not letting people finish or are you the lucky one?

CURRENT

"And that kinda brings us to here? But yeah, I'm not sure why he started the rivalry"

"Perhaps it's to hide something~ Something he doesn't want to tell a certain someone yet"

"What? Hiding something...what could he be hiding"

"That he lo-"

"That's enough Aventurine."

You snapped your head up to the source of the voice, as the gambler leaned his head back to look at the new addition to the room."

"Doctor~ Funny to see you here again, good to know your interrupting habits and not letting someone finish their sentence doesn't only apply to your cru-"

"...Shut it gambler...I need to have a word with you"

Aventurine chuckled, as he stood up and placed the cards down on the middle of the table. Telling you he'd be right back as the two of them went into another room.

You sat there, for maybe a minute or two. Until curiosity hit you like a brick. You knew they were talking about you. Or at least, that was most likely, and if you were right. Then that means the duo were chatting about Ratios behaviour...surely a small listen wouldn't hurt?

You slowly walked over to the room, careful to be quiet as you listened to the conversation.

"And what makes it so hard, Doctor? Just tell them. You can't keep using this whole rivalry thing to buy you time"

"You don't understand...it's easier said than done...besides, I'd rather make it more special. I can't just go out there and tell them in this situation"

"What would flowers and a more romantic setting do?"

"Make them feel special...make them hopefully feel the exact same way I felt when I realised I loved them"

FINALLY FINISHED IT!! I got my computer fixed a bit ago but still struggled to find the words to continue but here I am >:D Hopefully this was worth the wait sipadgpsirp

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is used to feeling comfortable around you, so when he arrives home and things feel strained, he wants to understand why. The more you tell him about what has you so upset, the more he wants to try to fix everything. But you don't know if he can do anything to mend your confidence.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Nat called and texted the next day to check in with you and Noah. It didn't matter how many times you lied and told her that you were just fine, she said she wanted to be sure. But you knew you were barely holding on, and the next two days without Bradley were going to be really hard. 

Because now it wasn't just the USB drive. It was also your hand. And the broken glass. And the way Noah cried. You were currently curled up in Bradley's bed with Noah sound asleep in your arms, and you didn't even want to go to work tomorrow. Your hand was aching, and the gash looked terrible. Even though you had done your best with it, you knew you should have gone for stitches. But you also knew it was too late for that now.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to keep Noah in bed with you for the night. You opened up your email one more time with the arrival instructions from Bradley even though you had them memorized. But you didn't want to mess this up. 

When you got to work the next morning, while you were still trying to decide if you should report the break in, another layer of embarrassment was added. Dr. Kelly pulled you aside and glanced down at your hand as she said, "Would you like me to take a look at that?" 

You'd done a pretty terrible job of bandaging it up on your own. "Sure," you said softly, and she unwrapped it and winced.

"This didn't happen at work, did it?"

"No," you replied quickly. "At home."

She met your eyes with startled ones. "This is a nasty, irregular cut. You live with your boyfriend, correct?" When you nodded, she added, "If there's any sort of issue with... violence at home, please know that you can always come to me."

Your jaw dropped open, and you gasped. "No! He's not even here, he's deployed! It was an accident!"

"Okay," she said right away. "I believe you. Let me get it cleaned up. It's looking angry, and you should have probably gone somewhere for stitches over the weekend."

Instead of responding, you silently followed her to one of the exam rooms where she carefully disinfected your palm and applied an adhesive that would work on your skin. "I can reapply it later this week for you."

"Thanks." As you got back to work, you were starting to think you should have reported the incident with the police. Panic rose inside you as you were instructed to prepare some vaccination syringes for the ten year old in exam room five. 

Should you wait until Bradley got home on Wednesday? Should you call the police after work today? Your cut up hand was bad enough, but Noah could have been the one who got hurt. And you'd honestly never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to him. You had protected him from Meredith in the park, so why was this any different?

You rushed back to Bradley's house after work and ran inside, completely exasperated by his old man tendencies. You had to search for the list of phone numbers he gave you which would have been much better if he just saved them to your contacts in your phone.

Noah needed to be picked up in the next forty minutes, and you didn't know how long she would be in her office, but you tried to reach Tracy anyway. When you gave your name to her receptionist, you were shocked that he put you right through to Bradley's lawyer.

"I hope Bradley thanked you for me. The Red Bulls were very sweet of you."

You laughed at Tracy in spite of the fact that you felt like crying. "It's the least I could do." Then you took a deep breath and said, "I was wondering if there is any way you can help me? I don't want to end up with Bradley having to pay you if you give me advice over the phone or anything like that. But I think I need some help right now even though he should be back on Wednesday."

"Your boyfriend basically has me on retainer for you. What do you need?" Tracy asked.

"Retainer?" you asked. No, that couldn't be right.

"I was given explicit instructions to help you with anything you might call about. We're not going to worry about any billing, because he certainly wasn't worried, okay? What can I do for you?"

You sucked in a deep breath as you paced around the kitchen. You felt defeated. That damn USB drive was on top of the refrigerator. The coffee machine you could barely figure out how to use was on the counter. The list of phone numbers in Bradley's handwriting was on the table. So you walked out back and forced yourself to say, "I think Meredith broke into my rental which I had already moved out of. And I saw her at a gas station before that."

There was a long enough pause that you were about to repeat yourself, but then she said, "I think that if she did break into your rental, it was purely out of spite. Because I actually have some news about Meredith that I was waiting to tell Bradley. But I think you and I should have a conversation first, and then you should decide if you want to call the police."

---------------------------

Bradley just wanted to get off this aircraft carrier. He had one night left in this fucking bunk with Carl, and then he could go home to his cozy house and sweet son and your warm, welcoming body. Maybe you'd let him snuggle with you and Noah on the couch, and then after Noah's bedtime, he could take you to bed. He couldn't stop thinking about every single way he wanted to have you. And then he could fall asleep with you wrapped up in his arms and your soft breath on his skin.

He was almost getting hard just thinking about it. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to, someone who was waiting just for him. He felt like he wanted to reward you for it. God, he wanted to give you everything. He had to tuck his hands up behind his head in his bunk and force himself to try to go to sleep. But he dreamed about your voice and your fingertips on his face.

The following day went quickly as they docked in the afternoon. Once he was able to text you, Bradley was pleased to see that you were more responsive.

I'm docked, Princess. We got in a little early, but I haven't deboarded yet. I know you're at work, but I can't wait to see you whenever you can come pick me up.

My Princess: I'll be there by four with Noah. We missed you so much!

When he was able to finally collect his things and start down the ramp, Bradley's heart was thudding in his ears. It wasn't four o'clock yet, and he knew he might have to wait for you to get there, but then he was pleasantly surprised. As he started walking along the fence to the parking lot, he spotted his Bronco in the last aisle. You had parked it away from everything and everything else, and that brought a smile to his face. 

And then he saw you, carrying Noah and hurrying toward him in your new work scrubs that he hadn't even seen yet. A smile broke out on his face as he rushed to close the distance. "Noah! Princess!"

"Daddy!" Noah squealed with delight, practically jumping from your arms to his. Bradley wrapped Noah up in his right arm and kissed him all over his face, reaching for you at the same time with his free hand. "I love you, Bub. Did you have fun with Princess?"

But you hesitated. And when Bradley met your eyes, he was still reaching for you, but you were only very slowly stepping toward him. "Come here," he rasped, slipping his arm around your waist until you were snug at his side. "I love you." Those words seemed to do the trick as you melted against him, and your chin tipped up as you looked at him.

"I missed you so much," you told him, your voice soft and maybe a little sad? And Bradley kissed you hard and heady in front of everyone including Noah, letting his hand rest on the swell of your butt. He didn't care. You belonged with him. He wanted you there forever. 

But even though you were clinging to his uniform shirt now and returning his kisses with a soft moan, he could tell you were holding back. He trailed a few kisses along your jaw back toward your ear and whispered, "I love you, Baby," and you shivered for him. But when he reached for your hand, he found it was bandaged up. And you looked at him with barely concealed frustration. He could just tell something was wrong. 

"What happened?" he asked, repositioning Noah in his arm and letting his son's cheek rest on his shoulder. He kissed your fingers and ran his thumb along the bandage. "What's wrong with your hand?"

You tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "Can we talk about it later? Tonight?"

"Yeah," he agreed, suddenly even more apprehensive. "We can."

"Great," you replied, leading the way to the Bronco with your fingers loosely tangled with his. And while Bradley walked with his lips pressed to his son's forehead and his duffle bag on his back, he was worried about you. 

You were still quiet when the three of you pulled into the driveway and headed inside. "I have a lasagna ready to go in the oven," you told Bradley when he followed you into the kitchen. "Should we start doing your laundry?"

He laughed softly as he put Noah down in one of the chairs and dropped his bag to the floor. "Princess," he whispered, reaching for your soft cheek. "Baby, I don't care about my laundry. I don't even really care about dinner, but I love that you have something ready to go. I just want you to tell me what's bothering you."

He watched you swallow hard, and he thought he saw your eyes dart toward the top of the refrigerator. "Bradley," you muttered.

"You know I thought about you nonstop, right?" he whispered, remembering how it felt to have his fist connect with Carl's face as he made sure he got his polaroid back. "On repeat. I just wanted to be home." He kissed your lips over and over again, stroking your soft skin with his thumb. "So I'll take care of whatever has you upset. You know I will."

You just nodded and let your eyes flutter closed. And all you offered him was one word. "Later."

After dinner was eaten and cleaned up, Bradley spent some extra time giving Noah a bath. The tub was absolutely filled with toys, and Bradley ended up removing his soaking wet undershirt, kneeling on the floor in just his underwear and service khakis. "I missed you so much," he said, kissing his son over and over again. "But I know you had fun with Princess."

Noah held out a green duckie for Bradley to take before he said, "I want Princess to be my mommy." 

Bradley met brown eyes that matched his, and he easily said, "I do too, Bub. She would be really good at it." You already were good at it. But something was wrong, and he needed to figure it out. The two of you weren't acting the way he had hoped you would after being apart for weeks. And now he was questioning whether or not you'd actually want to marry him someday.

It was late. Definitely after Noah's usual bedtime. He was yawning now, but Bradley had been so excited to see him, he let him stay up. With one more big yawn, Bradley scooped his son out of the tub with a towel and drained the water. Then he stopped in the living room where you were sitting on the couch, and he let Noah give you a goodnight kiss. And he leaned down and kissed your cheek as well. "I'll be back out in a minute. We'll talk."

"Okay," you said softly, and then Bradley was thankful that Noah was already falling asleep as soon as he was in bed. On his way back out to the living room, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of merlot and a bag of Skittles he had stashed away. 

After he opened the bottle and took a sip, he met you in the living room. Your gaze took in his naked torso as you bit your lip, and when he handed you the wine with no glass, you took a sip from the bottle as well. 

"Let's talk?" he asked, settling down next to you. He opened the bag of candy and patted his thigh. "And snuggle? I've been saving the wine and Skittles for our reunion, but you'll have to remind me which color goes best with merlot."

He could tell you were trying not to smile as you scooted across the couch and onto his lap while you sipped the wine. "Red, Daddy. Red Skittles pair with merlot."

"Yes," he rasped, kissing the side of your neck. "That's right. Now that I'm all yours again, just like I'm supposed to be, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

You handed him the bottle in favor of the candy, and you crunched on a few pieces before you said, "I moved all of my stuff in. And I used your address for my new hire paperwork."

Bradley had to hold back a moan. That sounded so fucking perfect to him, he wanted to take you on the floor right now, right in the middle of the area rug. But instead he just tightened his arm around your waist. "Mmhmm, you know just want to say to make me happy. And you did so great with Noah. I knew you would be perfect, Princess."

But then you met his eyes and held up your bandaged hand. "I had to call Tracy on Monday," you said, and Bradley's heart dropped. 

"Why?"

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the bottle of wine before taking it from his hand and drinking some more. "I saw Meredith at the gas station near Noah's daycare," you whispered, your voice soft and harsh. 

"She broke the restraining order?" he growled. "What the fuck?"

"It was just a gas station," you replied quietly. "And I think she was already there when I pulled in." Bradley was about to rage, but then you kept going. "But then someone broke into my rental, and I cut my hand when Noah was with me. And it must have been Meredith, so I called Tracy, because you weren't here, and I wasn't sure what to do." When you took a deep breath there was a little sob with it that made Bradley clench with the need to protect you. 

"Shit! I wish you didn't have to do this by yourself," he replied, heart skipping faster. "But I'm proud of you. What did Tracy say about Meredith?"

"She helped me file a police report, and they said they are looking for evidence, but my landlord is pissed off that the window is broken. He was supposed to have a new renter move in this week, and he's threatening me about paying for another month. He told me to fix the glass, but the police won't even let me. And you and I are supposed to go meet up with Tracy tomorrow." You hiccupped when you finished talking. 

"Shh," Bradley said, setting the bottle down on the end table and pulling you to his body so your cheek came to rest on his chest. "Baby, I'll take care of it. But back up, and go slow. Did Meredith threaten you or Noah?"

You shrugged against his body, and Bradley focused on every single word you had to say about the gas station and your broken windowpane and the note that was left. And how the police and Tracy both agreed that there's probably not enough evidence to prove anything one way or the other. And then you seemed wrung out as a tear slid down your cheek when you said, "Tracy did tell me that Meredith was on trial for the fraud charges I brought up against her during the custody hearing. When I saw her at the gas station, she told me I ruined her life. And then my window was smashed, probably just because she's such a horrible bitch."

"Make sense," he mumbled against your hair. No wonder he had several unread emails from Tracy that he knew he still needed to go through. Shit. You'd dealt with an awful lot in his absence. He wondered if that meant Meredith was being sentenced. "And we have an appointment with Tracy tomorrow?"

"Yes," you whispered, curling up tighter against his body. "During my lunch break."

"Okay." He kissed your forehead and ran his hands up and down your back. "I'm still off tomorrow. I'll drop you off at work in the morning, and then I'll come back for you whenever you want. And we'll go talk to Tracy, and I promise you, I will take care of everything." You were practically shaking as he added, "Because you take care of us."

You were nodding as you finally looked up at him, and as angry as Bradley was about more bullshit from Meredith, you and Noah were safe. And Tracy would probably have more information for him tomorrow. But right now, you needed someone to take care of you for a minute. "I love you," he promised, considering how exhausted you looked. "Let's take a shower and get in bed?"

Whether you were nodding in agreement or because you were still shaky, Bradley wasn't sure. But he carried you into the bathroom and set you down gently as he turned the shower on. Once you were undressed he helped you in and carefully unwrapped the bandage on your hand. There was a jagged cut on your palm that made his heart lurch. "I'll clean it and rebandage it, Princess," he said, trying to hide the anger in his voice. You didn't deserve any of the shit you'd repeatedly gone through since you met him.

"Okay," you whispered, and as soon as he was out of his khakis and underwear, you were pulling him in with you. Bradley was helpless in his feelings for you. Very carefully, he took his time and washed you so you didn't irritate your cut further. And he let himself just enjoy the feel of your body against his as he gently held your hand.

When he turned the shower off, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to the bedroom. Everything looked exactly as it should: your purple crown was on his bedpost, everything was tidy, and the bed looked inviting. But you still didn't look relaxed as he helped you into his gray sweatpants and a soft undershirt before bandaging your hand again.

"What will make you feel better?" he asked, pulling on clean underwear as you climbed into bed. "Tell me, and I'll do it. I just want you to know how much I missed you and how happy I am that you moved all your stuff in while I was away."

You peeled the blanket back on his side of the bed and whispered, "Snuggle with me?" 

You looked so perfect and innocent, and Bradley slid in bed with you and collected you in his arms. "Come here, Baby. Let me tell you how much I love you."

----------------------------

You started to fall asleep in Bradley's arms while he rubbed small circles on your back through his undershirt which you were wearing. You had been on the brink of erupting into tears all night, and you hadn't even mentioned the USB drive. And now that he was home, you didn't know if you were strong enough to bring it up at all. 

If he knew it was in that box in the attic, then you were going to make a fool of yourself. And if he forgot about its existence, he was going to think you were snooping through his things even though he gave you permission to use the attic. Either way, you weren't going to mention it, at least not yet. 

There were too many other things to think about anyway. Like whether or not the police found anything in your rental. And how you were going to fix the window. And if Meredith was actually going to attempt something with you or Noah, or if she was just bitter that she might be facing jail time. 

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley's arm tightened around you as he kissed the top of your head.

"Just sleep, Baby. I'll be right here."

As you dozed off, you realized you didn't have to be on full alert at the moment. For the first night in so long, you could just sleep and know he was with you and Noah. And then you were out. 

Next thing you knew, it was light inside the bedroom, and Bradley was waking you up with gentle kisses on your face. You reached for him, and then his body weight was on top of you as he chuckled. "Baby, we'll be late."

"Good, I want to stay in bed all day," you whined, but soon you were dressed in your scrubs and making breakfast while Bradley got Noah ready for daycare. You hated the way you felt like you were holding back being as physical as you wanted to be with your boyfriend. 

And then a flash of panic shot through you. He must have been expecting you to have sex with him last night, when instead you fell asleep as a bundle of nerves. You were still a bundle of nerves, but now you felt like crying as well. But he was acting so normal when he brought Noah into the kitchen to eat pancakes. "Just leave the mess in the sink, and I'll take care of it later," he said casually, reaching for your good hand to give you another kiss. 

But you were thinking about the USB drive, and your meeting with Tracy and your job. And you barely kissed him back this time. "Okay," you agreed before picking at your breakfast. 

Bradley looked concerned now, and he continued to look concerned a little later as he pulled into Noah's daycare parking lot. "I can take him in," you muttered, but he had already turned off the Bronco's engine. 

"Let's go together," he replied, eyeing you skeptically as he climbed out to get Noah. And when you were walking in, side by side, Bradley asked, "Will you tell me what else is on your mind?"

You just shook your head, because you didn't want to get into this right now. But he took your hand anyway.  And of course the same girl was working at the front desk with her clipboard. 

"Lieutenant Bradshaw! Good morning!"

"Hi, Casey," he replied smoothly, his fingers laced with yours. 

"How was your deployment? We really missed you here." She gave you some serious side eye, and you just knew she wished you weren't even around.

"It was fine," he replied, setting Noah down and kissing him. And then Noah turned to you for a hug before he walked back to the playroom. Then Bradley tugged you a little closer to him and wrapped his arm around you before signing the clipboard with the back of your body snug up against the front of his. He kissed your neck while Casey watched. "Let's go before you're late for work, Princess," he whispered next to your ear. 

He handed the clipboard to Casey without even looking at her, and you were so mixed up inside, you wanted to scream. Five minutes ago, you were dreading the idea of being intimate with Bradley without showing him the USB drive first, and now you wanted to fuck him in the front seat of the Bronco.

"Listen," he said, voice stern as he pulled out into traffic and headed toward your medical complex. "Something is bugging you. I want you to be honest with me. After we talk to Tracy together, you and I are having a conversation later today. And by the end of that conversation, I want you and I to feel the way we are supposed to feel again. Because you moved all your stuff into the house, which I think is us officially taking the next step in our relationship. And I'm used to feeling comfortable when I'm with you. Okay?"

You pressed your lips together. There was no getting around it now. "Yes."

-----------------------------

"I really like Tracy and all, but I was hoping I'd never have to come here again," Bradley said as you and he rode the elevator up to her office. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, running your hands down the front of your now wrinkly scrubs. "It's probably my fault."

Bradley did a double take. "Your fault? How would this possibly be your fault, Baby?"

You sighed and exited the elevator, and Bradley just wanted you to look happy again. "Because I'm the one who mentioned all of Meredith's insider trading and shady deals in the first place."

"Hey," he said, leading you down the hallway with his hand at your back. "This is one hundred percent Meredith's fault. And the fraud charges were probably coming whether or not we said anything about it during the custody hearing."

Then Tracy's receptionist was waving the two of you past his desk without question, and Bradley thought that was either a very good or a very bad sign.

"Meredith is in custody," Tracy announced as soon as her office door was closed behind Bradley. 

You gasped and said, "She's in prison."

"Yes. Now have a seat," she replied, pointing to the small conference table. "Because we have some things to discuss. Welcome home, Bradley." Then she set down a copy of Meredith's mugshot and arrest information.

"What a warm welcome," he muttered, skimming the paperwork. "She turned herself in?"

"She did," Tracy told him, taking the empty seat across the table and cracking open a Red Bull. "Probably broke the window at your place for fun as her last hurrah before turning herself in."

"Did the police find anything?" you asked her. "My landlord is so mad about the window."

Tracy just kind of shrugged. "Like I told you before, it's probably a lost cause. Nobody picked anything up on a doorbell camera, and it's impossible to tell exactly when it happened since you haven't actually been living there for a few months." You nodded, and then Tracy asked, "But if they do find evidence, would you like to press charges?"

"No," you replied immediately, and Bradley leaned in a little closer.

"Are you sure? We can absolutely press charges if you want to."

"Come on, Bradley," you said quietly, even though Tracy could still hear. "I don't want to cost you any more money. And I can't afford Tracy on my own." 

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he leaned in even closer to you. How many times had the two of you had this fucking conversation? Too many for him to keep track of, and it annoyed him every single time. "Look at me," he whispered when you started to turn away. As soon as you met his eyes again, he kissed you softly. But his voice was rough around the edges as he said, "I would defend you with my life. Why would my money be any different? Why is that the thing that is always too much for you?"

With a soft gasp, you gaped at him. "Your life?"

"Yes, of course," he said, brow furrowed. "So I really need you to stop making a fuss about everything else. Because it doesn't matter compared to you. Or compared to Noah. Or compared to us. And I'm getting pretty fucking sick of having this conversation over and over again with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chanced a glance at Tracy, but she was simply scrolling on her phone now. And he could hear tears in your voice as you said, "Money isn't as important as you either."

"Exactly," he growled, holding you tight. "Fuck, Princess... don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry. But if you want to press charges, if there's even a reason to press charges, I will gladly pay for Tracy. She's expensive as hell, because she's very good."

"That's right," Tracy murmured, still scrolling.

You pulled away from him and kissed his scarred cheek a few times before you said, "Can I think about it? I mean, Meredith was probably just acting like a petty bitch because she could."

"We can wait for a police report," Tracy supplied, setting down her phone. "And I can get more information about Meredith as well."

You nodded and looked up at Bradley. "That's what I want to do."

"Then that's what we'll do," he agreed right away. 

"Tracy, do you know when I'll be able to replace the window? My landlord is threatening me with another month of rent."

She just snorted. "Send me a copy of your lease agreement. I'll make him cry."

When the three of you stood, Bradley could tell you seemed more relaxed, and he kissed the now dry tears from your cheek. "How much do I owe you for today?" Bradley asked Tracy as he took your bandaged hand in his.

"No worries. I'll bill you."

"Worth every cent," Bradley told you once again as you rode the elevator back down. 

You had your head resting on his chest as you pulled out your phone, and he could see your screen as you said, "Dr. Kelly texted me. She told me to just take the rest of the afternoon for myself."

"Do you want to head home?" he asked as you tucked your phone away again.

"Yeah, I'll make us lunch."

"Perfect," he replied. "And then we can talk."

And you seemed fine on the way home, changing radio stations in the Bonco and talking about how you hoped Meredith would have to serve the full fifteen years she was being threatened with. Bradley didn't really give much of a fuck about Meredith as long as you felt safe and happy. As long as things went back to normal for the three of you. 

But as soon as you walked into the kitchen, you seemed apprehensive once again. He watched you carefully get some butter and cheese out of the refrigerator, claiming you were in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich. But then you tossed everything onto the counter and spun to face him. 

"I can't take it any more, okay?" You were nearly shouting at him, fists clenched at your sides. Your pretty face was all pinched like you were in pain. 

"What?" Bradley asked, rushing to you. "What's wrong?" And then he saw one rogue tear streak down your cheek. Something was making you cry again, and he needed to know what it was. 

"She's so many things that I know are horrible, but she's also so many things that I wish I could be... but I'm just not." You took a deep breath and reached up on your tiptoes to take something down from the top of the refrigerator. "I just want to know why it's here, okay?" you asked him, your hands shaking as you reached out with a blue USB drive on your bandaged palm. "Just don't lie to me about why you have this, Bradley. I know it's a few years old, but I just don't understand why you had it in the attic with Noah's baby clothes."

He took it in his own hand, and it seemed familiar. When he looked up and met your eyes, you were crying and trying to swipe the tears away. "I'm confused..." 

You pointed at his laptop which was charging on the table, and said, "Just tell me the truth," as you sobbed. 

Bradley opened the computer and tried to keep a wary eye on you at the same time. But as soon as he inserted the USB drive and the folder automatically opened up, he heard you softly say, "I can't," before you rushed out of the room. 

He was still baffled as he tapped on the video thumbnail. And then he wanted to throw the computer across the room. His blood ran cold as he remembered making this video. The details were hazy, but when he heard himself tell Meredith that he loved her, he wrenched the drive back out of the laptop and heard it clatter across the floor as he ran after you.

"Princess!"

----------------------------

Fix it now, Daddy!! You better fix it! I hope you enjoy your babysitter story @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you @mak-32

PART 33

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