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#I just needed to pass the anatomy exam
fromgoy2joy · 2 months
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“Wow, it must be so hard to keep kosher if you didn’t grow up with it!”
And I always feel sweat on the back of my neck, nodding, even though one exam season I survived off of cupcake frosting, coffees, protein bars, and a peanut butter jar (for protein).
“Well,” i say, very seriously. “Somehow that hasn’t been the biggest roadblock.”
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nonbinaryeye · 1 year
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"Why don't I have any free time why am being crushed by cruel and demanding academia?" I ask as I put five exams in one week.
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ok i will take a break from studying in an hour to take a quick shower, and then i'll study for maybe another hour and then go to bed
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dejwrld · 3 months
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⤷‧₊˚ 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.
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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.” 
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⤷‧₊˚ 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
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rustedhearts · 8 months
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crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist
tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.
a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.
somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.
"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"
The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.
Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.
But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'
Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.
You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.
"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."
A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.
"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"
"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"
"What is the state of your love life?"
"Dead!"
You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.
"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"
Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?
"And onion rings," you added.
Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."
✶ ✶
"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."
Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"
Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.
"Okay, I'm going in."
You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.
The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.
Until—
"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.
"I'm quite surprising."
He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."
You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."
Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.
The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"
Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."
Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.
"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."
He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."
Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"
You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."
Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.
"Maybe so."
You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.
"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.
Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.
"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"
Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.
"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.
He had you.
You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."
Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."
Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.
"See you tomorrow!" he called.
You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.
And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.
✶ ✶
"I can't believe this is happening."
"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."
"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."
"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"
You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.
Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?
“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”
Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.
“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.
But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.
He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.
“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.
Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”
Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.
“Come on in, get comfy.”
You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.
“Thirsty?”
Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.
Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”
He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”
You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”
You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.
“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“
“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”
The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.
Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.
"W-what?"
Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."
Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.
The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.
You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.
“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”
“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.
Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.
"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.
"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.
Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.
"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."
Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.
"Th-thought you didn't know anything."
Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.
"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."
"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.
Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"
You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.
"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."
Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.
"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"
You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.
But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.
"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."
As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.
He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"
You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.
"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."
In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.
When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.
The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.
Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.
"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.
You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."
He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.
"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."
When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.
"Steve, please."
Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.
"Shh, shh, 've got you."
Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.
Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?
“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.
“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.
But he was just that good.
The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.
When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.
But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.
When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.
“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.
You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”
“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.
“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”
Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.
“Harrington, what the fuck?”
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starsinmylatte · 4 months
Text
How to (not) Study for an Anatomy Exam
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI
Length: 2.1k
You're in medical school with Shoko, but she's bailed on your group study session. Good thing an old friend turns up to help... Wait, what was the next chapter on, again?
Tags: Oral (m receiving), the awakening of a dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, praise
Join my taglist here!
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You pushed the eraser end of the pencil further into your brow, groaning as you forced yourself to read just one more page….. But, then again, this was also your fifth “last page” in a row. Shoko had abandoned your group study session hours ago to go out drinking, and your fatigue had finally set in. 
“Ugh, maybe if I force myself to read it out loud,” you muttered, shifting restlessly. 
“The amygdala is an integral part of the lim-” The door opened with a firm click, and you trailed off in surprise, dropping your head back against the couch pillow with an exasperated sigh. 
“Satoru, I swear to god, if you interrupt me again, I will personally shove-” 
A low chuckle interrupted your threat, “It’s just me. Please finish your sentence, though. That threat against Gojo did sound promising.” 
You groaned, draping the heavy medical textbook over your face to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the sound. “Nanami, I thought you were working tonight.” 
“I was,” he acknowledged. You could hear him walk across the room, and the couch cushion suddenly dipped with his additional weight. Nanami sighed and sat something down on the coffee table with an audible clink. You could hear the sound of a canned drink being opened, and the delicious, blessed scent of coffee filled the air. 
Overly eager for the sweet, sweet hit of caffeine, you bolted upright fast enough to launch the textbook off your face. It fell and hit your thigh, drawing a slight whine from your lips as you snatched the coffee from Nanami’s outstretched hand. You raised it to your lips greedily, instantly downing most of it. 
“I was working tonight, but I clocked out two hours ago,” he continued smoothly, “Do you know what time it is?” 
You pressed the lip of the can to your chin, your expression mildly guilty as you purposefully avoided looking at your long-time friend. “I was only going to review one more chapter.” 
Nanami simply picked his own can off the table and opened it. Your excuse had apparently fallen on deaf ears; he took a slow drink as you pouted, chuckling at the expression on your face. “Shoko texted me and asked me to come check on you. She hadn’t heard from you since she left.” 
“We have an exam next week. I don’t know how she can be so carefree when there’s so much to learn,” you muttered. “I don’t need a babysitter just because I chose to study instead of going drinking.” 
Slowly, Nanami reached out and placed his hand under your chin, tipping your head towards him. His expression was slightly cross, but you were preoccupied with much more important things. The dark suit your “long-time friend” wore fit him unfairly well, and seeing him dressed up only worsened the way you actually felt about him. You’d nursed a crush on him for years, and at this point, you were determined to take that secret to your grave. 
The other glaringly obvious thing slipped out of your mouth before you could formulate a more intelligent sentence. “I… I can see your forehead now,” you stammered. 
Nanami arched a single, golden eyebrow in mild amusement. “I got a haircut yesterday.”
You stared at him. The way his golden hair was swept back tugged at your already suffering heart; it was so mature, so achingly fitting for Nanami. It felt like a small eternity passed as your tired mind unraveled. 
Were his shoulders always this broad? His eyes are such a beautiful color. Oh shit, his hand is under my chin still…. W-were they always this big? I wonder what they would feel like-
“One more chapter!” You squealed loudly, wishing you could trade your reverse curse technique in for the ability to phase through the floor. “One more chapter, and then I’ll take a break.” 
“One more chapter, and then you’ll get some sleep,” Nanami corrected, removing his hand from your chin. You felt a small pang of disappointment at the loss of his touch, but you shrugged it off. 
“Fine,” you conceded, mentally shoving the respectable, hard-working part of your brain back in charge. 
Nanami settled back into his corner of the couch, taking another sip of his coffee. “Can I help you somehow? I have no idea how this type of studying works.” 
He gestured vaguely at the stack of medical books, and you tried to stifle a giggle. “Here, you can quiz me using the pre-chapter questions.”
Nanami nodded, turning his focus to the textbook, and you flipped it open, happy to have him there to help you finish strong… until you were brutally reminded what the next chapter was. You blankly stared at the page titled “Male Reproductive Anatomy” until you closed the cover and stood without another word. Forget phasing through the floor; you wanted to teleport directly to the North Pole and never return. 
“On second thought, I think I’ll just go to bed now,” You looked at the blank wall for moral support, face crimson red.
“I mean, I could still help you study… If you wanted..” He offered nonchalantly. 
You whipped your head back around to look at Nanami, whose cheeks were dusted with pink. For a brief moment, he was blushing like the teenage boy you had once offered to share headphones with, but as he stood, his deep brown gaze locked into yours, and you could only see the calm, capable man he had grown into.  “But I don’t think we will need the textbook.” 
You nodded slowly, and Nanami wordlessly scooped all of your textbooks and study materials into his arms. The two of you made the trip up the stairs to your room in record time. He shoved everything onto your desk haphazardly, opting to take you into his arms instead.  
“How long?” He murmured, his deep coffee-colored gaze full of warmth, a warmth you suddenly realized that Nanami had always reserved for you. “How long have we tip-toed around this?” 
You shivered despite the heat of his body as the man you’d loved for years cradled you like a precious flower. His large hands gently rubbed your back, coaxing a sigh from your lips. 
“Too long,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his. It was gentle, almost reverent at first, and Nanami sighed, deep and rumbling, as he pulled you even closer. Your lips parted briefly before meeting again, the embrace growing more passionate by the second. 
Nanami kissed you like he was trying to commit your taste to his memory like he’d simply die without your lips against his. You were no less eager, reaching up to cup his jaw and pressing your other hand against the swell of his bicep.
Growing bolder, you maneuvered him back until the back of his knees hit your desk chair. Nanami took the hint, parting from the embrace to undo his suit jacket and sit. He gazed up at you, eyes half-lidded and hazy with lust, and grinned lazily. “C’mere then.”
He reached out to pull you onto his lap, but you sidestepped with a wink. Instead, you opted to sink onto your knees, silently delighted by the way his eyes widened in surprise. Ever so slowly, you nudged his legs apart and crawled between them to rest your cheek against his knee. You hummed playfully, tilting your head up to smile at him innocently, “I thought you wanted to help me study… I think I can do that better from here.” 
Nanami dropped his head back against the chair, swearing under his breath. He looped a finger into his tie and quickly ripped it off. It fell to the side unceremoniously, and your grin grew at his usual composure beginning to crack. 
You stroked the inside of his leg with your nails, using just enough pressure for Nanami to feel the touch through his suit pants. He shuddered, and a wicked thought popped into your mind. You grinned again, “Or, if you’ve changed your mind, I could always ask Gojo. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 
It was an incredibly empty threat; you both knew that, but it still served its intended purpose. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Nanami sat up, his gaze dark and intense as he leaned down to caress your jaw. The touch would’ve been warm and affectionate at any other time, but this one was slow, controlled, and achingly possessive. 
“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking tease.” He growled, and the words shot straight to your core. Nanami slowly hooked his thumb over your kiss-swollen bottom lip, forcing them to part. You drew in a shaky breath, and it was his turn to smile. 
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was silken, dangerously quiet. Sparks of molten pleasure flooded your body, and your brain went fuzzy as you nodded. Nanami slipped the rough pad of his thumb over your tongue, slowly stroking it, toying with you as he thought for a moment. You whimpered involuntarily at the initial press of his thick finger, fighting off the urge to lave your tongue over it. He'd almost seem disinterested if you didn’t know him so well, but you could see his eyes glitter with a potent mix of approval and lust.
Nanami paused the movement of his thumb but left it in place to weigh down your tongue. He tenderly shushed your whine of protest and continued to speak, “If you’re good and finish your studying tonight, I’ll reward you….” 
More white-hot pleasure coiled in your stomach, and your pussy throbbed in response. “Mmmmmhmmm,” you managed around his thumb, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. 
He chuckled again, pulling his thumb out and smearing the leftover wetness across your lips. You eyed the obvious strain of his erection greedily, reaching forward to trace its outline. Nanami groaned, his cock twitching even with the slight pressure. “Eager for this, pretty girl?” 
“You have no idea,” you murmured, quickly undoing his belt and pulling his clothing aside just enough to free his thick cock. You bit your lip as you watched the swollen, leaking tip brush against the material of his dress shirt, leaving a tiny smear of precum on the fabric. Nanami hissed at the sensation, tangling one of his large hands in your hair, partially to hold your hair back and partially desperate for something to ground him. You moved even closer to his lap, leaning down to lap at his cockhead. 
He moaned outright at the first touch of your tongue; you began to explore every agonizingly beautiful inch of him, teasing his shaft with your fingers and plush lips. Nanami’s hand dug into your hair as you swirled your tongue around his tip and swiped it over the top to lap up his pre-cum. His hand clenched reflexively at the blinding pleasure, pulling your hair harshly without even meaning to. 
Nanami froze, about to apologize profusely, but you moaned wantonly, plush lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock. He cursed and barked out a low laugh as the vibrations shot straight through him, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to…. Did you like that?”
You nodded as vigorously as you could manage, taking his cock even further into your mouth and nestling his swollen tip snugly into the pouch of your cheek. Drool fell from your lips, trailing down your chin as your tongue laved over his shaft, but you were far too gone to care. You cupped his heavy balls through the fabric of his expensive underwear, massaging them, and Nanami almost came on the spot. 
He twitched and groaned, breath heavy and uneven as you utterly destroyed the normally stoic man. Nanami ran his other hand back through his hair, his breathing heavy as he took a minute to appreciate the sight of you drunk on his cock. 
His balls tightened almost painfully, and Nanami moaned again, low and needy. “Need to stop…. Gonna cu-”
You shot him an incredibly devious, lust-filled look before pulling away and opening your mouth, sticking out your tongue to catch every drop. Nanami hissed at the sight, stroking his shaft furiously. It only took a few more seconds for him to fall apart with a strangled cry, his cum painting your mouth pearly white. His hands slowly pumped up and down, milking the remnants of his orgasm onto your pretty, pink tongue. 
“You’re perfect…. gorgeous…. a goddess… mine now.” Nanami panted. 
Your pussy fluttered as you watched him fall apart, and you ground your thighs together, desperate to find some relief from the ache in your core as you made a small show of swallowing. Nanami only took a few seconds to scoop you up from the floor and deposit you on the bed. 
“Do I get my reward now?” You teased, voice slightly hoarse. 
Nanami looked at you, his brown eyes filled with such sincerity that your heart fluttered. “I’m going to spoil you until you’re sick of me.”
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Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @belle-smith07 @orangecremepuff @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @Msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty
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cas-kingdom · 10 months
Note
For drabble requests how about something for Greys Anatomy where while Derek is busy in surgery the reader comes in injured and Amelia is there to comfort her and make the medical decisions? It doesn’t have to be anything serious really, I’d just love some reader and Amelia bonding 🥰🥰🥰
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The walk of shame along the corridors of Grey Sloan was not altogether unfamiliar to you. Many times had you trudged reluctantly along the polished floors of the surgical unit, clutching some injury or another, purposefully trying to avoid the eyes of anyone you knew--which, in such a unit, was pretty impossible.
Years ago, you would have been slightly less embarrassed. Kids always got into medical equipment, right? At least kids of surgeons who were constantly working. But now, it didn't seem quite right. You were a month away from Johns Hopkins, had aced all your exams and probably wouldn't have even needed the reference letters from half the surgical team, and here you were, head hung low in disgrace as you held your bleeding hand to your chest.
If it weren't for the fact you knew your dad would absolutely murder you if he found out you had hidden an injury from him again, you would have locked yourself away in a break room somewhere and attempted to patch yourself up best you could. Alas. Your father was Derek Shepherd. And after the broken nose you'd managed to keep from him for almost twenty-four hours a couple years ago, he'd all but held you hostage until you promised on his life you wouldn't do it again.
So, here you were. Reluctant as hell but somehow still not regretting the situation that had lead you to this moment.
"Hi, have you seen Dr. Shepherd around?" you asked a passing intern. When he made to walk over to the surgery board, finger already pointing at one row in particular, you visibly grimaced.
"Uh, no, the other one. Amelia Shepherd?" You had no intention of crying to your dad today. Your pride had been smashed to pieces enough.
The intern pointed down the hallway and you saw your aunt walking around a corner with another nurse. Pressing your lips in a thin line, you thanked the intern and followed after her. Your pace was fast enough not to lose her but slow enough that you had time to rehearse your lines before you were bombarded with judgment.
Amelia ducked into a radiology room and you steeled yourself before pushing the door open. "Amelia?"
"Y/N. Why are you holding your hand like that?"
You wouldn't have been surprised at the question, in fact you had fully expected it, if Amelia had turned around to actually see who had walked through the door. Your aunt could do powerful stuff, but mindreading was not on that list.
"I saw you earlier." Amelia turned, arms crossed, brows raised. "Well done, by the way. Meredith thought it would take you longer to find someone. I said it would take..." She glanced at her watch and shrugged. "Twenty minutes. Not bad."
Her supposed victory was short-lived when she looked up. Her eyes fell on your hand and her face dropped as she walked quickly over to you. "I'd rather you not drip blood on the floor," she said, an obvious tease behind her words, as she gently pulled you over to sit down.
You made a face, not having realised. "Oops."
"Oops is right, kiddo." Amelia knelt in front of the swivel chair and let you uncover your hand, humming under her breath when she noted the long, jagged line running down the side of your hand from the base of your wrist to the middle of your pinky finger. "How'd you manage this, huh? Don't tell me you found the electrical saw again."
You rolled your eyes. "I stabbed myself, actually," you said matter-of-factly.
"Ooh, that's a new one. With what?" When your reluctance finally kicked in, Amelia looked up. "With what, Y/N?"
Your hand began to throb and only then did you decide that answering your aunt's questions was probably the easiest way to getting relief. "A needle," you said. "I found a suture practice kit and, oh my God, Amelia, you know that's like giving me candy. I couldn't just leave it alone."
Amelia nodded along, gently probing at the red skin around your wound. "So you practiced sutures on fake skin and, what? Sewed yourself?"
"There was a noise outside and I jerked my hand," you deadpanned. Amelia glanced up, on the verge of laughter, and you looked away stiffly. "It hurts."
"Well, lesson learnt. For now," she added after as a second thought. There was a short silence after that was broken only by your hiss of pain when Amelia touched an exceptionally sensitive spot. Sucking a breath through her teeth, the surgeon sat back on her heels and looked up at you. "How were your sutures?" she asked. "Straight? Neat?"
You lit up, Derek's smug smile curving your lips not a second later. "Straightest and neatest you'll ever see."
"That's my girl." Amelia squeezed your knee before standing to her feet and taking out her phone. "Now, what do we tell your dad when he sees you later with stitches in your hand?"
You couldn't have groaned louder. If the chair didn't have a straight back, you would have fallen backwards with the force of it. When you righted yourself, a fierce look of indignation on your face, Amelia wasn't even attempting to hide her amusement.
"I need stitches?"
"Yup. Aaand, lucky for you, I think Derek should be out of surgery by now." Chipper as ever in the face of her niece's almost tangible disgust, she held open the door and nodded in its direction. "Come on, kiddo. He'll be glad to do a little needlework. Bring him back to basics."
You rolled your eyes once more as you got up, cradling your hand to your chest. "Like brother, like sister," you grumbled as you passed your aunt.
"What was that?"
"I said: like brother, like sister, you sadist."
Amelia snorted.
Grey's Masterpost
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cherrycola27 · 1 year
Text
Red, White, and Rooster
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Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger
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Chapter 17: Safe and Sound
Your leg bounced nervously as you and Bradley sat in the private room of your OBGYN office. It had been eight weeks since you had been rescued, and you were currently waiting for the doctor to come and do your anatomy scan to find out the gender of Baby Bradshaw. You had been going weekly for checkups, and each time, the doctor assured you that everything was fine, but you couldn't shake the anxiety.
You had both hands resting on your bump, which was now definitely visible. After your kidnapping, you'd taken a break from the public eye. However, the two of you were planning on announcing your pregnancy via White House social media today. Jaycee was patiently waiting for you to call her to tell her which announcement to post.
Bradley rested his hand over yours. "Everything is fine. We don't have anything to worry about. Soon, we are going to find out what our little peanut is, and then we will be on our way to a much needed vacation in Rhode Island." Bradley told you. "And a late birthday celebration for you." You reminded him.
You grimaced at the memory. It was a few days after you had gotten home from the hospital in North Carolina when you were laying in bed with Bradley, and the two of you had heard the fireworks for the 4th of July celebration. When you realized what day it was, it took the better part of an hour for Bradley to get you calmed down after you'd come to the realization that you had been missing om his birthday. Honestly, it hadn't even occurred to him.
You immediately made him agree to a getaway for the two of you once your broken arm held and your bruises had faded.
He swiped a stray hair from your face and smiled at you. He didn't miss the slight flinch in your features. You were still having nightmares, and it broke his heart that this had happened to you. He tried every day to lift your worries and make them his, but much to his chagrin, there were some battles he just couldn't fight for you.
"Alright! Who's ready to find out what the First Baby is going to be?" Dr. Park asked as she came into the room. You and Bradley both told her you were ready.
Bradley helped you onto the exam table and held your hand as Dr. Park squirted the cold jelly on your stomach before swirling it around.
"So, you're twenty weeks and two days today. Hopefully, the little peanut is turned where we can see what they are." Dr. Park smiled at the two of you.
Her eyes were locked on the screen. Suddenly, she frozen. "Oh!" She gasped.
"Oh?!" You and Bradley both said in unison. "What, 'oh'? Is that a good 'oh' or a bad 'oh'?" You asked, sitting up a little.
Dr. Park smiled. "Well, I know you want to know one gender, but would you like to know both?" She asked you with a coy grin.
"Both?" You asked her with wide eyes.
"Both." She affirmed as she turned the monitor towards the two of you. "It doesn't happen often, but it seems like Baby B has been hiding behind Baby A these past few weeks." She tells you. "Looks like it's twins." She states.
"T—twins?" Bradley sputters out. You turn to look at him. He is as white as a sheet with a cold sweat across his brow. "Twins." He repeats just above a whisper. You look at him with concern, afraid he might faint. "Bradley. You're the president. You run a country, but us having twins is what freaks you out?" You tease him.
He swallows and takes a deep breath. "Okay, everything's fine, just a little shocked is all." He states to no one in particular.
"Well, are you ready to know?" Dr. Park asks after the initial shock has passed. Both of you nod your head eagerly.
"So it looks like Baby A is a—girl." Dr. Park smiles at the two of you. "Aww, a little girl." You tear up. "And Baby B is a— ah, a boy. I guess he got tired of hiding behind his sister." Dr. Park laughs. She takes a few pictures before leaving to let you get cleaned up.
"We are having twins. Twins!" Bradley exclaims once the two of you are alone. "I swear, Jake wished this on me."
You chuckle at your husband. "Dearest, you are in charge of a nation. And before that, you flew multimillion dollar aircrafts. I'm sure you can handle being a father to twins. C'mon Daddy, you've got to toughen up." You chuckle at him. "Now be a dear and help Mommy u—oh!" You gasp.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Bradley asks as he grabs your hand. You don't respond. He continues to talk, but you shush him. He tries to protest, but you grab his hand and place it on your belly. He looks at you confused before he feels it.
"Wa—is that—are they—" He trails off as you both feel it again. "One of them is kicking." You whisper, afraid it will stop if you speak too loudly.
"Is this the first time you've felt that?" He asks you with wide eyes. "I've felt the peanut—well I guess, peanuts, move around a little, but this is the first kick I've felt.
"Hi there, you two." Bradley says before placing a gentle kiss on your tummy. "I'm your Daddy." He says. But as soon as the kicking started, it stopped.
You both sigh as he helps you off the table. "Alright, Daddy, let's go. Mommy is hungry and is eating for three, apparently. Also, I need to call Jaycee and tell her she's going to have to make another announcement." You say as you grab his hand. "And I have to call Jake and tell him that everyone technically one the bet." He sighs.
"Bet?" You ask him. "There was a small betting pool amongst some of the staff as to what the gender would be." He shrugs. "You two hear that? Uncle Jake is already causing trouble." You laugh.
Once back in the car, Bradley informs Dante that he needs to make a detour two to the nearest burger joint. You tell him that the twins said "tell Daddy we want french fries and a chocolate shake."
Bradley shutters and attempts to adjust himself. He isn't sure if it's the excitement of it all, the fact that the two of you haven't slept together in weeks or just how it sounds when it comes out of your mouth, but something about you calling him "Daddy," has him hard as a rock right now.
Dante quickly secures the food, and you thank him. Bradley attempts to steal a fry, but you smack his hand away. Dante chuckles before asking, "So, boy or girl?"
"Both." Bradley says. "Both? Twins? Wow, congratulations. Maybe everyone will get their money back, considering we were all technically right." He laughs. "You bet on the gender too?" You ask him.
"Guilty." Dante shakes his head.
You both laugh at him before your phone rings. It hit you that you hadn't called Jaycee yet. You were sure that she was chomping at the bit to hear the news.
"Hello." You said into your phone.
"Hello, madam First Lady." Jaycee says. "Hi, Jay." You chuckle.
"Well?" She prods impatiently. "Twins." You tell her simply. There is a pause on the other end of the line. You check to make sure the line is still connected, it is. You are about to say something else when she screeches "TWINS?! Babe! Did you hear that?!" She yells to whom you presume to be Jake. "I did. Holy shit!" He calls from the background.
"Wait, boys, girls, or one of each?" Jaycee asks you. "A boy and a girl." You tell her with a smile.
"Ohhhh, this is so exciting. Have fun on your vacation, I have a new post to make!" She cheers into the phone before hanging up.
.............
Soon, Dante is pulling the SUV into the air field and up to an Air Force One jet. He helps load your bags before sending you and Bradley off on your "baby-moon" as some had taken to calling it. In a few short hours, the two of you would be relaxing in a cottage in Newport, watching the sun sink into the ocean.
The two of you had been flying for about an hour when you both got the alert about the post made on the official White House social media channels. Jaycee had chosen a patriotic them, obviously. The post was simple. A letter board surrounded by red white and blue objects, two sets of baby shoes, an American flag, and a small F-18. The letter board read: "Red, White, and Due! Baby Bradshaw One and Two Coming Soon!" The photo was caption about how the two of you were excited to announce that you were expecting twins early next year.
By the time the two of you landed, it was late afternoon, and you were exhausted. Bradley settled your bags in the bedroom of the cottage the two of you would be staying in for a few days. Dante and the rest of the security team settled into the bungalow next door.
After getting unpacked, Bradley tugged you to your feet, insisting that you join him in the shower. You protested, but when he held you close and pressed feather-light kisses along your jaw, you were putty in his hands.
He undressed before carefully peeling your sundress over your head and tossing it to the side. He pulled you into the large shower, adjusting the stream of water in was gliding over the both of you. He pulled you flush against him. His toned chest pressed against your back as he held you for just a moment. Your hands rested over his as they splayed out over your rounded tummy.
You sighed and sank into him as he peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders before reaching for soap. He lathered it onto a loofah before running it over every inch of your body, giving special attention to your stomach. He loved seeing how you had grown in the past few weeks. He remembers the first time your baby bump was clearly visible to him, when it couldn't be confused for anything else.
He was in awe of the fact that you were growing a life, well now he knows, two lives inside you. Two lives that he had helped create. Ever since then, he had such a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He wanted to touch you and your belly all the time. Almost every night, he found himself falling asleep with his hand on it, and every morning, he would wake up just the same. Bradley was so lucky after everything to have you in his arms, and he thanked his lucky stars everyday.
"Where's your head at Daddy? Having a deep conversation with them?" You ask him. He snapped back to reality, realizing that his head was pressed against your stomach. You smiled at him as he stood back up and kissed your nose. He walked you backward until your back pressed against the cool tile of the shower wall.
He cupped your face and kissed you, using his tongue to split the seam of your mouth to deepen the kiss. You moaned against him as he kneaded your breasts in his hand. They were firm and soft, getting bigger now because of the pregnancy.
His mouth left yours to wrap around one of your nipples, licking and sucking until it formed a stiff peak before switching to the other. He continued his trail downward before you stopped him.
"Bradley, you don't have to." You whispered to him.
The spray of hot water cascaded over the two of you as Bradley sank to his knees in front of you. "Come on, Mommy, let Daddy take care of you." Bradley said as he draped one of your legs over his shoulder.
You were helpless when it came to resisting him. He may have been the one on his knees right now, but yours were the ones that were weak. You reached out to steady yourself. One arm braced against the wall, the other clinging to his shoulder as his skilled tongue swept through your folds.
You tossed your head back as his plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked the taught bud into his mouth.
"Fuck, Bradley!" You cried out already so close after just a few minutes of his face buried in your heat. The internet said that pregnancy sex could be some of the best sex of your life, but you really thought Comso was exaggerating.
Boy, were you wrong. Everything felt more sensitive. Each sweep of his tongue, each nip of his teeth on the inside of your thighs, each curl of his finger had you barreling head first towards a release.
"Right there, oh my God. Right there!" You screamed as an orgasm washed over you.
Bradley didn't stop, holding your thighs steady as they began to tremble around his face while pleasure washed over you. He coaxed you through your high until you tugged on his roots when it became too much. He carefully eased your leg off his shoulder and stood up to hold onto you.
You collapsed against him, boneless from your high.
He reached out and turned the water off. "Let's get out and get dried off so I can take care of you some more." He whispered hotly into your ear. You mumbled a reply into his chest as he helped you out.
"You're too good to me." You told him as he dried you off with some fluffy towels.
"On the contrary, my love, you're too good for me." Bradley smiles at you before kissing your head.
"These two are going to be so lucky to have you as their mother." He says as he strokes the top of your stomach. "They are going to be even luckier to have a Daddy like you, Bradley." You tell him. He groans before tossing his head back, sighing and stepping away from you.
You hop off the counter with a wide look in your eyes. "Bradley Bradshaw," you begin, "Do you like it when I call you Daddy?" You ask him with a smirk. A blush spreads from his chest to the tips of his ears. He looks down at the floor, not sure how to respond.
You snicker before reaching forward and grabbing him by the towel that's tucked around his waist. "How about we head into the bedroom so I can give Daddy a late birthday present?" You whisper against his lips before tugging him into the bedroom.
You usher him to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing him down by his shoulders until he is right where you want him.
You kneel down on the plush carpet in front of him, placing a hand on each of his knees and urging him to part them for you. Bradley takes in the sight of you.
The lamp in the room has you washed in a golden glow. Your hair is still slightly damp and hangs down as it wildly frames your face. One strap of your baby pink nighty has slipped off your shoulder, almost as if in purpose. The silk of the material strains against your breast as your hardened nipples peak through it. It cascades down your body, hugging the curve of your midsection before ending at your thighs. Your lips are parted lightly, and a pink blush has spread across your cheeks.
He groans as you move forward to wrap one hand around his cock. You begin to slowly stroke him before placing a wet kiss on the head. Your tongue peaks out to swipe up the few beads of precum that are leaking from the slit.
A growl leaves his chest when you stick out your tongue and tap the head of him on it a few times before wrapping your lips around him.
One of his hands leaves the bed and tangles in your hair to pull it out of your face as you suck him. You have one hand braced on his thigh, the other wrapped around the part of him that couldn't fit in your mouth. You drop that hand and take a deep breath before taking all of him. You sigh around him and hollow out your cheeks, as you pick up speed. You take your free hand and cup his balls, rolling the soft tissue in his palm. It almost sends him over the edge.
Abruptly, he pulls you off of him. You lean back on your knees and wipe the saliva from your face as you look up at him.
"Bradley, you didn't—did I do—" He cuts you off by pulling you into his lap for a hungry kiss.
"Felt so good baby, but when I cum, I want to cum in you. Please. Can I?" He begs.
"Well, I've never told you no on that matter before, have I?" You chuckle as you pat your bump. He snickers before tugging your nighty over your head and laying you down on the pillows.
He hovers over you, supporting his weight on his forearms. He leans down to press a gentle yet filthy kiss to your lips. A groan vibrates in his chest when you card your finger through his hair and scratch his scalp.
He grabs his length, pumping himself a few times before sliding into your warm, wet center.
He groans when once he is fully seated in you, grabbing on your your hips and digging his fingers into them as he withdraws and pushs back in. He keeps a steady rhythm that has you mewling under him. Your head lulls to the side as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you with his stiffness. The pleasure begins to overwhelm you, but before it can cloud your judgment, you decide to test out your little theory from earlier.
"Oh, Bradley. Shit. Feels so good—Daddy." You moan, dropping the name from your lips.
Bradley stops, stilling inside you. You're worried that maybe you had read the situation wrong. But when you meet his eyes, you see that only a thin band of their honey-brown color is visible around his blown pupil. He pulls back and slams back into you. You let out a strangled cry as your arms wrap around him.
Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as his strong hands gripped your hips. One of his hands left its perch to sweep over the taught skin of your bump, cradling it before moving to your rear. He grabbed the supple flesh there, pulling you closer to him, driving him deeper inside you. You met his dark eyes as he growled—"Say it again."
"Daddy." You breathe out. "Louder." He grits. "Daddy!" You cry out at a louder volume this time as the head of his cock attacks your g-spot, hitting it over and over again, causing you to see stars.
"Louder!" He commands as his hips drive even harder into you. He hikes your leg higher on his waist, allowing him to drive deeper into you. With each thrust, your clit meets his pelvis which only increases your pleasure.
"Fuck, Daddy— fuck me, I'm going to cum!" You shout as your nails scrape down his back. He feels your walls tighten around him as you reach your peak.
You arch up off the mattress, pressing yourself into him.
He continues to drive into you as he praises you. "That's it—Cum for Daddy—Good girl."
His praises only add to your pleasure, and you can't hold back the rush of wetness that comes out just as Bradley finished deep inside you. He guides both of you through your orgasms before gently pulling out and laying beside you.
Your eyes are closed. Your lips are parted, and your breath is coming out on shallow pants. You can feel your mixed release leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You can also feel how damp the sheets are from when you finished.
Bradley strokes your hair and pulls you close to him. "You alright, Sweetheart?" He asks you with a raspy tone.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't know I could—" You ramble as you gesture to the mess you've made.
Bradley lets out a small chuckle. "Don't apologize for that. You have no idea how much that strokes my ego. Can't wait to make you do it again." He admits.
"So a Daddy kink?" You let out a breathy laugh once you're coherent enough to turn on your side and face him.
He shrugs, unsure what to say. "I should have known. You have always had a thing for titles in bed— Mr. President." You joke with him. He laughs before tucking you under his chin. It is peaceful for a few moments before you break the silence.
"Bradley, I need to pee. And I'm hungry." You grumle against his neck. He sighs dramatically before helping you up. You grab your nightgown and slip it over your head before waltzing into the bathroom.
"What are you and the little peanuts in the mood for. I'll text Dante to send out one of the guys for it.
"Some pizza would be great right now. Oh, and some wings and some cheesy bread with some sauce, and maybe some ice cream." You say.
Bradley shakes his head as he types out the message. "Don't forget to tell Dante what you want, too." You remind him as you look for some new sheets.
"I thought we could share." He says as he grabs some off a shelf in the closet. You shoot him a skeptical look before laughing. "I guess I could let you have a slice or two and a couple wings. But the cheesy bread, that's all mine.
.....................
Hours later, the two of you have your bellies fully. You're splayed out on your back, sleeping peacefully. Bradley is curled up beside you with his head resting on your stomach. His hand runs over it as he presses wispy kisses to your growing skin. He whispers promises to his unborn children about how he is going to keep them and you safe for as long as he is alive.
He stays up half of the night telling them stories about his parents and his days in the Navy. He tells them about their aunts and uncles and their Grandpa Mav, who is so excited to meet them. He tells them about you and how much he loves you.
When he runs out of things to say, he starts softly humming "Great Balls of Fire" and tells them he'll teach it to them on the piano one day like their Grandpa Goose taught him.
Soon, his eyes finally become heavy, and sleep fills his bones. He slides up next to you. You instantly curl into him, resting your head on his chest.
He lets out a long sigh before giving in and letting the need to rest take over. He knows that tomorrow will bring new challenges for the two of you, but he also knows that nothing is so great that the two of you cannot over come it.
Bradley presses a final goodnight kiss to your temple before closing his eyes and dreaming of you and his children and the family that the four of you will be.
Wow, this was a long one, but worth it. Thank you always for reading!
Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky
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petrolstationflowers · 5 months
Text
Update 13 Dec 2023: Updated 13 Dec 2023 with a Portuguese translation by David Manaia as well as correcting the Level 10 metrics!
A mortician career for your sims! This was requested by Catrillion and was super interesting to research! Your sim can join it via the Hospital rabbithole and is available from Young Adult through to Elder.
If anyone would like to translate this, please feel free! The English strings are included in the download file, just drop me a message here or on MTS!
I used @missy-hissy's career tutorial to make this and a huge thanks to @zoeoe-sims for helping me with some infuriating bugs we finally got sorted out!
Details under the cut!
This career has ten levels and requires you to level Science and the hidden skill Styling, which can be improved by using the Styling Station to do makeovers at the salon. The skill won't show up in the skills panel, but the metric should change and you can track its level through MasterController.
Since there wasn't a strict progression for this job IRL, I've varied it a little bit to encompass all skills a fully qualified mortician and embalmer would need. There's long hours and extra studies included -- it's not an easy job!
There's no opportunities or books to read, but there are uniforms from the Medical career included, which should show up from Level 2. Carpool only shows up at Level 2 onwards, so don't panic if you need to manually send your sim to work.
Please note if you want to use this, you must have Nraas Careers installed for it to show up!
There's two custom tones:
Study Anatomy (increases Science) Practise Styling (increases Styling)
I've put the levels, hours, and pay under here if you'd like to take a look: Level 1 - At the Crossroads - 10:00 until 16:00, M-F, 10 simoleans p/h
Description: "You’ve always been fascinated by death, sneaking into the movie theatre to watch the horror flicks much too young and reading books your mother would have definitely taken away from you. You have a knack for biology and have followed Olive Specter’s SimTube channel since she first started uploading in the middle of the night. With the job market uncertain right now, why not look into becoming a mortician? It can’t be any worse than EverFresh Supermarket…"
Level 2 - Apprentice - 09:00 until 15:00, M-F, 30 simoleans p/h
Description: "After many days of scrolling through job listings and qualifications in the hospital cafe, you’ve finally found the guts to apply for an apprenticeship. It’s not the best paid and you’re still stuck in the classroom, but at least the coursework is interesting. Now just to pass the exams…"
Level 3 - Mortuary Admin Specialist - 09:00 until 17:00, M-F, 40 simoleans p/h
Description: "You’ve passed your course, got that diploma, and swaggered out of that classroom with a spring in your step… only for your first gig to be doing the admin work at the local mortuary. At the moment you’re spending your time booking appointments and sending emails with the occasional aside of cleaning the equipment, but show enough enthusiasm and you’ll soon be moving on up."
Level 4 - Mortuary Technician - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 60 simoleans p/h
Description: "Your first actual job is dressing and caring for the deceased, making sure they’re laid to rest in the coffin of their choosing and that their funeral is exactly what they and their family wanted. It’s delicate, gentle work, making sure death has dignity. Sometimes it’s the living that need you more; you’ll need a calm voice and be a shoulder to cry on for families who have to say goodbye."
Level 5 - Mortuary Technician Team Leader - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 75 simoleans p/h
Description: "You’ve proved to have a light touch with the makeup brush and know the right words to comfort the bereaved, so a promotion is in order and that means working with the parts that make up a human body. Your duties will include weighing organs, taking tissue samples, and reconstructing bodies so they’re ready to be buried. Make sure you study up on identifying diseases in organs if you want that promotion!"
Level 6 - Senior Mortuary Manager - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 105 simoleans p/h
Description: "Finally, proper pay! Unfortunately, it more means managing your coworkers than the corpses. You’re allowed to sign off on the higher level decisions and have more responsibility, but you didn’t get into this role to do people management. Maybe there’s another path you can take…"
Level 7 - Trainee Embalmer - 12:00 until 21:00, M-F, 50 simoleans p/h
Description: "Back to the classroom you go! Sort of. You’ve put in an application to train as an embalmer, and are splitting your time between shadowing one of your senior coworkers and attending night school. It’s long and tiring, with late study hours for not much money, but it’ll pay off in the long run (you hope)."
Level 8 - Qualified Embalmer - 09:00 until 16:00, M-F, 200 simoleans p/h
Description: "The graft has paid off, and you’ve got another diploma under your belt (as well as a bit more cash, thank the Watcher). You’ve transferred back to the hospital mortuary but this time to work as an embalmer, washing and taking care of bodies and taking all the steps to make sure they’re preserved with the right chemicals. It’ll require careful technique with not only the embalming fluid and syringes, but also your empathy; you’ll need to make sure the family, as well as their loved one, are well cared for."
Level 9 - Mobile Embalmer - 18:00 until 03:00, Mon/Tue/Fri/Sat/Sun, 220 simoleans p/h
Description: "For some reason, embalming isn’t a sought after job – which means good news for you! Work is dispatching you all across SimNation to provide your services, from vampire attacks in Bridgeport to meteor strikes in Lunar Lakes. You’re spending more time in hotels than at home, and while you’re raking in the money, maybe it’s time you struck out on your own."
Level 10 - Locum Mortuary Technician - 11:00 until 15:00, Mon/Sat/Sun, 500 simoleans p/h
Description: "You’ve had enough of the corpo grind and chucked it in; you’re freelance, baby! As a fully qualified mortuary technician and embalmer, you pick up agency shifts and choose when and where you want to work, on whatever catches your eye. If someone wants to pay you good money to preserve the corpse of Bigfoot for their collection, now you don’t have to turn them down for something more sensible. After all, if you love your job, you don’t work a day in your life!"
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shunshunrika · 9 months
Text
Things Geto Suguru would say because he's a HORnyy mf 😩
mdni, 18+ only
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"The only way to make me shut up is to ride my face :). What? Whattt? I'm being corny? I just offered you a premium throne, woman!"
"I love you. I love you so much. I love all of you but especially your bellybutton. It's so cute. Hey, don't call me a weirdo, there's nothing weird about how my tongue fits in your belly button."
"Um. Is it sexual harassment if I ask you to stop wearing clothes around the house? I mean... Studies show that being naked is- what? Do you think I'm making it up?"
"Y/N. Hey don't ignore me. Listen, Y/N. Can I please just get a quickie? I promise I'll come back and eat you out for hours. Please I need this to relieve myself since I've to deal with Satoru for the whole day."
"If you keep pulling on my hair while I eat you out. I'll bite your pussy lips. Then cry, bitch as I make a chew toy out of your pretty little coochie."
"My baby's legs are the best. Especially when they are on my shoulders and stick straight. I can see the entire anatomy of your pussy this way, you naughty baby. I love this view after all."
"D'you think if I grow a stubble it'll make you feel more sensitive down there? Huh? I can't believe you're saying a stubble will make me look hotter. Now I have to grow one for you and your tender pussy."
"We have to go to a nude beach once. No, it's not weird Y/N, please stop saying that! I just want everyone to see us bare and joined together, what's wrong in that?"
"I know the car was full and we have no choice but, if you squirm in my lap any longer, I might have to shoot my cum up into you through my pants like a cannon."
"That's it baby, don't worry the shower glass won't break. I'm holding you. Cum on my dick baby. Cum so hard that you pass out. Ahhh fuckk!"
"Can you send me a nude? Three, if you're feeling it?:) Please, I really need to jack off right now. I got a boner because I was too stressed about the exam. Y/N? Don't leave me on read??!"
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magiccath · 4 months
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Can i have a 10th doctor fic in where the reader is a nursing student and she has to i guess practice on him? Love your works so much 🥰🥰
When you ask him for help studying he literally laughs out loud 
“I’m not an actual doctor. You know that, right?”
Once you explain you just need practice he’s game, you can poke and prod at him all you want
Issue is… Time Lord bodies are different from human ones
“You- you have two hearts…?”
“Do I now?” He teases. He likes getting a rise out of you
When you go to take his pulse you have a lot of trouble. Humans have a singular heart that beats solidarily. Time Lords have two hearts thundering around completely unharmoniously 
“Doctor… your heart rate is 250 bpm. You should be in cardiac arrest right now”
“That’s actually slow!” He explains. Time Lords have different heart rate standards than humans do.
The rest of his body is mostly human, making your examination fairly easy. 
“I don’t understand how you run so much, your joints are practically audibly creaking,” you tease, poking fun at his age
In the end, it isn’t much help for your human medical knowledge
The Doctor is actually severely concerning by human health standards
Like, send this alien to the ER right now
But it’s an opportunity for you to learn more about Time Lords and their anatomy
You still pass your exams 
The Doctor helps you make notecards and study
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Text
Recon
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~4.5k
Summary: You and Wanda meet.
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for so long. Did I say I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this? Whoops. Enjoy!
Warnings: Fluff. 
When you leave the lecture hall, your mind is on the class you just finished, and when you’re going to have the chance to study for the exam that’s next week. You’re less than a year away from being done with university, and you’ve already submitted your application for veterinary school. However, as you continue to gain experience by working at a vet clinic a few times a week, and study your ass off to keep getting good grades, you realize that you are running yourself into the ground.
You’re exhausted and despite enjoying what you’re learning for the most part, physics being the exception, you need another outlet. You need something to do that’s not school or vet-related so you don’t burn yourself out. You sleep, wake up, and go to class, study between classes, and then go home and study some more. If you’re lucky, you have time to eat three meals a day and get time to decompress before going to bed. If you’re unlucky and it’s exam week, you don’t even leave the library for days except to shower and sleep.
Since you live alone and have no pets, other than a fish that you don’t pay enough attention to, you don’t have anyone to force you to relax. You promise yourself you’ll do better once this next anatomy exam is done, but all thoughts of planning a movie marathon soon leave your mind when you spot her.
You’re still moving along with the crowd of people fleeing the lecture hall when you see a beautiful brunette waiting in the lobby. You look away quickly because you don’t want to be caught staring, but you’re only about to resist for a few steps before you are looking at her again.
You’re certain that you haven’t seen her before because despite being in your own world sometimes, you tend to notice the important things. Especially, ridiculously attractive women. The first thing you notice beyond her hair because that’s always the first thing you notice, are her eyes. As she looks around for someone, probably one of your classmates, you see her bright green eyes that you’d love to get lost in. You’ve always had a weakness for them in the past. Her dark makeup only accentuates her natural beauty, and you hope as you see her gaze pass over you, that you’re not drooling.
You don’t have time to look away again before you feel someone push past you as they walk through a doorway. You; however, don’t make it and you slam into the door frame with an undignified grunt and cringe at the fact that you probably just drew a lot of attention to yourself for being so distracted.
“Fuck.”
Wanda had been on campus for over an hour already and she was getting bored. She hadn’t been around so many people close to her age before and it felt foreign to her. She’d never gone to university. After finishing high school and graduating valedictorian, she’d decided to help her parents and brother with the family business. Then they’d died and she hadn’t been given a choice about whether she wanted to keep things running. It had been a difficult time, and that was barely a year ago that she and Pietro had been orphaned. Their losses still seemed fresh on some days, but as Wanda wanders around campus looking for her target, she’s reminded of the life she could have had if her parents hadn’t chosen the paths they had.
Wanda had always loved history in school, and through tutoring a lot of her classmates, she’d realized that she loved teaching. She’d humored becoming a history teacher for a few months before her future with the mob became less of a possibility and more of an indisputable fact after her parents lost their lives in an attack. She remembers receiving the news of her parents’ deaths on her darkest nights that usually involved copious amounts of alcohol. She hadn’t been there. Ironically, she’d just been leaving her graduation party when her brother called her to tell her to come home now. She’d been confused by how frantic he was, and annoyed by the lack of information he’d offered.
 It wasn’t until she’d arrived home and seen it swarming with her parents’ employees, she’d called them minions, she’d been enlightened by her brother about what happened.
Revenge had immediately become her priority. Despite being devastated by her loss, she’d thrown herself into a role that she could barely comprehend and tried to keep the business afloat while finding those responsible. Wanda looks back on these early days of chaos and is glad to have them behind her. Well, her days are still chaotic sometimes, but in the months since she’s taken over, she’s learned to be efficient. She spends her days delegating and overseeing an empire that brings in millions of dollars a year.
Today, she’s looking for a replacement computer scientist to help run her convoluted security network. She’d just promoted the man who’s previously held the position, but he’d recommended someone that Wanda was hard-pressed to believe would be a good replacement. She had expected someone with comparable experience which in this case was nearly a decade, but here she was at a university where most people here were in elementary school that long ago.
She has everything she needs to know about this kid, he’s a year younger than she is, but she gets a little sidetracked before she can find him. He’s supposedly in the building she’s standing outside of now, but she’s not sure what the best way to approach him would be. She could say who she was, but that usually freaked people out pretty quickly, so maybe she’d just mention Frank first.
Wanda checks her watch to see that the class that he’s in should have just gotten out and she sighs before heading toward the doors. She still feels out of her element as she walks into the building with her old high school backpack slung over her shoulder. She just needs to find who she came for, and then she can get back to familiar territory.
The class lets out a few minutes late, and Wanda can see on the faces of several students that this is a common occurrence. She scans the sudden swarm of students that start to flow through the sets of double doors leading out of the lecture hall and into the lobby where she waits. She figures she could have been slightly less conspicuous if she’d sat down at one of the available tables and pretended to study, but she didn’t have the patience to do much to keep up her ruse. She’d had an exhausting week and was mostly doing this as a favor to her brother. She’d asked him to do this, but he’d gotten home late from a deal last night and was still hungover.
Wanda’s thinking of how to get her brother to repay her when she sees you walk out with a distracted look. You’re not who she’s looking for at all, but you’ve caught her attention immediately, and she briefly forgets what she’s here for when she catches your gaze. You’re beautiful and clearly stressed as you probably mull over the lecture you just left. You’re frowning and as you walk closer, Wanda can see you show characteristic signs of an overworked student. There are dark circles under your eyes that aren’t as bright as Wanda expects they usually are, from hours of studying or listening to lecturers drone on and on.
She watches as you stifle a yawn before running a hand through your slightly unkempt hair. She’ll learn later that this is a nervous tick of yours, something you tend to do as you stress about anything and everything. Wanda only has a couple of seconds to wonder what your name is when someone bumps into you and sends you falling into the door. She cringes at the loud sound and the clearly pained look on your face as you smash your arm against the metal door frame not two feet from her.
“Fuck.”
Wanda frowns despite wanting to smile at the sound of your voice. It’s rough from pain or fatigue but Wanda can’t help but imagine other scenarios in which it might sound lower than usual as she speaks without her brain’s permission.
“Are you okay?”
You’re a little thrown off by a ridiculously attractive, total stranger talking to you, but you offer her a smile before nodding in answer. You’re fine honestly, just a little miffed and embarrassed by your inattentiveness. You take a moment to admire the brunette in front of you now that you’re actually allowed to look at her, and you have to remind yourself not to be weird.
You haven’t dated in a long time. If you can count going on two first dates as ‘dating’. You’ve used being busy with school and work as an excuse to not doing a better job of trying to meet women. You know that if you really wanted to, you would put in a little more effort, but you are too worried about being distracted from school to give it much of a shot.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just distracted.”
You offer a smile and Wanda just smiles back before glancing over your shoulder briefly for someone. You don’t get a chance to ask before she speaks up and you almost groan in response. Fucking physics.
“Class was that boring?”
You start to drift toward Wanda mostly to get out of the way of traffic, but as you find yourself standing across from her you realize you should have just risked getting sideswiped again. She’s even prettier up close and you try to ignore how good she smells as you blush slightly.
“Oh physics is my least favorite, but it’s a necessary evil unfortunately.”
Wanda has given up looking for Frank’s protégé at this point, and she leans against the wall behind her. She’d rather talk to you than try to persuade someone who she doesn’t quite need yet to work for her. She has a feeling you’re much more interesting than a conversation about firewalls and VPNs.
“Necessary for…?”
Wanda can’t help but smile a little wider as she watches you fidget nervously with your backpack straps with a nervous chuckle. You’re always reluctant to tell people about your plans to go to vet school because given the school you’re at, and the state you’re in, it’s almost as if everyone’s trying to do it. You’re just one of hundreds who have the same goal.
“Vet school applications.”
Wanda smiles at the thought of this before she considers what type of vet you want to be. She figures the best way to find out is to ask, but she can’t help but imagine you wrangling pigs or cows in addition to the cats or dogs she figures most people are more interested in.
"That’s impressive.”
Wanda revels in the darker blush she sees on your cheeks as you shake your head in disagreement. She is quickly realizing that you don’t accept praise or compliments well, you’re too modest or perhaps something else to just smile and let yourself bask in them. She wonders which it is as she watches you practically wave her off with a vaguely uncomfortable look.
“Maybe once I get in, but right now I feel like I’m just doing the same as everyone else.”
Wanda’s not sure how to respond to this immediately, but you don’t give her a chance as you turn the attention on her. You can’t help but wonder what she studies. More specifically why this is the first time you’ve seen her here.
“What about you?”
Wanda freezes and you notice her stiffen imperceptibly as she considers her answer. You take the prolonged moment of silence to study the brunette a little more carefully. You can’t really guess what she studies just by looking at her. If not for the fact that she’s in a building where multiple disciplines are taught, you don’t see much of anything in or on her backpack. You at least have a dog and cat button on yours.
“Um, history. World history.”
You take a second to think about this and realize that it doesn’t make a lot of sense. History is not taught in this building, but then again, she could just be visiting for another reason. You don’t say this or even ask because it’s not your business. Instead, you smile and nod in understanding as you think about your lack of luck in all of your history classes.
“That is impressive. I could never follow anything in history class.”
Wanda’s still reeling from her Freudian slip when your phone starts vibrating in your pocket. She frowns slightly when she watches you take it out and look at it with a sigh. She has a feeling that you’re going to leave soon, and she can’t help but want to keep talking to you.
She honestly hasn’t had a conversation with someone her age, about normal things like school in a very long time. She realizes this might be the true reason for why she feels her mood drop precipitously as you leave a few seconds later, but she doesn’t allow herself to think about it for long.
“Ugh, I need to go to my next class. It was nice meeting you…”
You trail off purposely and Wanda smiles as she tells you her name that you can’t help but smile at.
“Wanda.”
You nod before offering your own name as you silence your phone for a second time.
“Wanda. I’m Y/n. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
It’s not a question but Wanda nods without thinking. She doesn’t think she will see you again, but she can’t bring herself to say that. You wonder if you will as you leave to your next class that you’re going to have to run to in order to be on time. You can’t bring yourself to care though as you smile stupidly all the way there.
Maybe you will see her again.
Two weeks later
Pietro Maximoff was at a loss. He couldn’t figure out what was going on with his sister. She was never home, which honestly in itself wasn’t odd, but she had been going MIA more these past two weeks than she had since taking over things here. Wanda always did a good job of keeping in touch with him during the day, at the very least once a day to check in. Since their parents had died, they’d realized how important it was to stay in touch and watch each other’s backs.
This was for both of their safety, and despite the bodyguard that he was still trying to get his sister to allow follow her around, it never hurt to let someone know where she were. Steve had been running around a lot trying to follow Wanda who seemed to disappear early in the morning and not return until late at night.
He has no idea where she’s going and despite her saying that she was just busy with work, he was suspicious. His twin instincts were telling him something was wrong, and he planned to track her down today and try to figure out what was going on.
He had a few things to wrap up first, but as soon as he was done, he was going to find Wanda.
World History.
Wanda was still beating herself up over her stupid answer two weeks later. She couldn’t have managed to narrow it down at all in the moment, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. As soon as she’d managed to recruit her technician, she left campus and immediately started looking into you. She figured out your full name, where you’d grown up and a little about your family, but she hadn’t wanted to look any further. Sure, she could have easily figured out where you lived, but she’d already crossed a line by being too curious for her own good.
The next day she’d tried to focus back on work and forget about her run in with you. It had worked for about 48 hours before she’d cracked and found herself back at the university. Wanda had ignored her usual routine for a day and camped out for a chance to spot you again. She’d worked outside the building where she’d met you since it was a nice day and she only had to make phone calls and check in on people.
As she laid out in the grass, she ignored her brother’s texts asking where she was, but she had a feeling she could only do this for so long. She’d managed to go back every day and still not see you for the rest of the week, and she was frustrated. She returned to the compound around 8pm and was on her way to the kitchen to get something to eat when someone practically shouts at her.
“Wanda! Long time no see.”
Wanda turns around to see her brother rounding the corner and hurrying over to her. She offers him a sheepish look before she just nods and continues on her way, just a bit slower so her brother can follow.
“Hey, Piet. How’s it going?”
Wanda is thinking about what to eat for dinner when her brother shoots her a look that she misses. He frowns before deciding to just get right to it. He’d taken a lot of time to figure out how to approach his sister about her uncharacteristic behavior. Steve had told him that he’d finally been able to follow her today, and she’d just gone to the nearby university to sit outside and supposedly work all day. He was still very confused and hoped that Wanda could offer an explanation.
“The usual mostly, just without you. Where’ve you been recently?”
Because she knew her brother well, she had prepared an answer to this question that he’d hopefully buy. That said, she hadn’t counted on him sending anyone to follow her. She’d be annoyed about that once she got over the embarrassment at being found out.
“I’ve been trying to get out of the compound during the day. Needed a change of scenery.”
Wanda notices as she opens the fridge that her brother is shooting her a look that she doesn’t like at all. She grabs some leftovers from a dinner she’d made a couple of nights ago, and pretends to be too focused on it to notice her brother’s suspicion. She almost drops the dish in response to his question, and she curses under her breath before shaking her head vehemently.
“Steve says you’ve been going to the same place on campus this week.”
This was a lie, but he mostly wanted to see how Wanda reacted, and she didn’t disappoint. She disagrees unconvincingly before glaring at him for his next question.
“I’m just trying to get out, Pietro. You don’t need to send Steve to stalk me.”
She realizes that she sounds a little hypocritical calling someone else a stalker, but she disregards this quickly at her brother’s accusation.
“Are you seeing someone there? Is that why you’ve been MIA?”
Wanda shakes her head with a frown because she honestly wishes she could say she’d seen you since. She was going to give it one more day, but she couldn’t keep hanging around campus with nothing to show for it. She also had to get back to work at some point. She hoped to see you again, but if she didn’t catch sight of you on Monday, she was just going to have to let this go.
 “No, Piet. I’m just getting out some, okay?”
He isn’t convinced, but Wanda is fine with this for now given that she doesn’t have anything to hide. Nothing’s happened, and despite secretly hoping that this will change, she isn’t going to get him worked up over nothing.
Although Wanda is very different from her brother, they are both known for their paranoia. It’s hard not to be paranoid given their experiences and their lifestyle, but the twins are always overly cautious and when making any potentially risky decisions, they typically consult each other.
This included trusting anyone who wasn’t directly involved with their work, and given how her last short-lived relationship ended, she didn’t want to have a similar conversation with Pietro anytime soon.
So she decided to visit one last time Monday to see if she caught sight of you. If not, things would go back to the way they were, and Wanda would stick to one night stands that scratched that itch, but did very little else for her at this point.
Once she leaves her brother after they’ve finished eating and catching up, Wanda returns to her room to sleep. It’s been a long week despite not being as busy as usual. She knows she has some things to catch up on this weekend, but she’ll worry about that later. She lies down before turning on a show that she ends up ignoring. She falls asleep by the middle of the episode, and she can’t help as her mind wanders to your beautiful smile and adorable blush.
You’re almost certain that you failed that exam just now. You’d spent the last week, and especially this weekend, studying for your physics exam during any free moment. Physics was not your strong suit, and you honestly were just trying to pass this class with a C or higher at this point. Given that you’d failed the first test spectacularly, you needed to do much better on this and the last one to pass the class.
Leaving the lecture hall though, you’re not convinced that you will accomplish this. You scowl on your way out of the building and can’t help but be annoyed with yourself. You just don’t know how to study for this class, and the damn assignments don’t seem to help you. You’re frustrated, but unfortunately there’s nothing you can do about it now. You just need to forget it and just do better next time.
You’re hurrying down the stairs when you spot her again. You’d thought about your run-in with Wanda for a couple of days until you got too distracted by your test. You’d concluded that Wanda was probably not a student, but you’d never been able to figure out why she was on campus that day. You figured that it was useless to overthink it because you weren’t going to see her again.
That said, as she looks up just as you’re walking down the stairs you hope that she happens to remember you too. She’s sitting on a brick wall not directly in your path to your next class, but you have no qualms against making a detour. Hell, you’ll be late for you next class, something that’s never happened, if it meant being able to talk to Wanda again.
“Hey.”
Wanda’s standing up as you walk closer to her and she smiles at your poorly concealed glee. She doesn’t dare let herself be too hopeful and consider that you actually wanted to see her again too.
“Hey…”
You slow to a stop beside her, not minding the people walking by you as you focus solely on Wanda. She’s not carrying a backpack today and you briefly wonder if she’s here just for you before disregarding that unlikelihood.
“Wanda.”
You smile wider at her before offering her a nod. You decide that it wouldn’t hurt to be upfront with the brunette, and you laugh as you nod in the direction of your next class.
“Wanda, I know. I was just surprised to see you here again. Walk with me?”
Wanda nods before following your lead with a smile. She’s grateful that she finally caught sight of you, and she was determined to not let this opportunity go to waste. She’s not sure where they’re headed, but she doesn’t worry about this as she responds.
“Surprised? Why’s that?”
Wanda has a feeling that she wasn’t as subtle as she’d wanted to be last time you met. She just isn’t sure if you’d picked up on it, and if so, how much you’d been able to gleam from your short interaction. When she sees you smile widely and shoot her a knowing look out of the corner of her eye, she realizes you were smarter than she expected. You also weren’t afraid to speak your mind which she admired given how most of the company she kept on a daily basis held back out of fear of angering her.
“Well, you’re clearly not a student here, and I can’t imagine why anyone would come spend time here of their own free will. Unless of course she has ulterior motive.”
Wanda can’t help but blush slightly at the fact that she’s caught. She’s honestly surprised that she’d spent the past 2 weeks hanging out on campus just for a chance to see you again. She doesn’t say this because that would undoubtedly sound creepy, so she settles on asking another question.
“What ulterior motive is that?”
You don’t respond immediately as you walk up the steps towards the lecture hall that you have to spend the next 75 minutes in. You stop short of walking in and you turn to Wanda with a pensive look. You’re not sure what she wants from you so you just say this in hopes of her clarifying her intentions.
“I’m not really sure, but either way I’m glad to see you again.”
Wanda can’t stop herself from smiling at this and she nods to herself before taking a moment to find her courage. It’s now or never, or rather, now or just at a later, more awkward time. Wanda leans back against the railing behind her with a sigh before meeting your curious gaze.
“You too, Y/n. I actually wanted to see if you’d be interested in going out sometime? We could go out for  drinks.”
You beam in response and Wanda feels her heart start to race in anticipation. Then you shake your head.
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
Wanda’s face falls and she silently berates herself for a few seconds before you speak up again.
“But I love food, if that’s something you’d be interested in?”
Wanda smiles again as she immediately nods in response. You take this as your cue to grab your phone and you fiddle with it for a few seconds before handing it to her.
“Great. Well, I need to go to class now, but if you put your number in there, we can figure out the details soon.”
Wanda’s already thinking about the places she could take you for dinner as she takes your phone from you. She texts herself before handing it back to you with a relieved smile. She feels like the weight she’s been carrying around since she met you has been lifted from her shoulders.
“Can’t wait.”
Masterlist
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crushedsweets · 2 months
Note
I know this shit is long as hell and you probably won't answer since you have so many asks but I just wanted to say I found a backstory for Cody(X-Virus) for your AU!!!
It's not as creative as your ideas but I tried to do something original and meaningful for him. He deserves more love and recognation.
I'm so so sorry for bothering you and I apologize for my mistakes.
Hope you like it and can't wait to hear your opinions about it!!!!
▼・ᴥ・▼
Cody never got adopted by a scientist, instead, he lived in an orphanage where he constantly got bullied. The reason for this situation was just straightly absurd. He just couldn't understand peoples and their emotions like other kids because of his lack of emphaty.
That's why he focused on academic knowledge rather than human relationships. Because mathmetical problems were easier for him compared to comforting a crying person.
Cody always was a succesful and smart kid so he could easily pass his exams in middle and high school. Because of that, in high school, he didn't bother to focus over boring topics like his daily lessons anymore.
No, he focused on more complicated science fields such as quantum physics, anatomy and organic chemistry.
Of course Cody couldn't understand everything he read easily, that's why he spend hours and hours on studying and having countless nights without any sleep. He read articles and textbooks, he watched professors' lectures on youtube, he tried to solve problems on his own and more.
Overworking on university lessons was not a good way for socialising, he got more and more isolated and the bullying was increased.
In last year of high school, he was worried because of the fact that he needed to win a success scholarship for all the cool topics he worked over, moreover, for a diploma. He could easily go to a college, however, he wanted the best of them. Because only the best could satisfy his hunger for research and true knowledge.
Cody was also confused about choosing which major to pick and he was stressing about this topic all the time. So many good fields were lying ahead him but he could only choose one of them and he wasn't sure which one is the one he wanted to dedicate his entire life. What if he would made a mistake and regret for his lost years for the rest of his living?
So yes, this was a very overwhelming decision for Cody. Since he was anxious all the time and he was going through a serious depressive episode, he decided to give a shot to the Chernobyl school trip in his school.
Obviously it was not like they really went inside of the nuclear powerplant since most of them weren't even over 18 years old. More like they wandered around the places in Ukraine which were close to the powerplant(Chernobyl City) and they visited some important museums.
But this was not enough for Cody.
He wanted to see the inside of the powerplant. He wanted to learn more details about behind the scenes. He wanted to see the deformed bodies. He to carry out experiments on dead humans who got affected by the radiation.
That's why he stole a gas mask and sneak out to the powerplant while everyone else was sleeping in a hotel.
He was truly breathless because of what he witnessed.
That's when he decided to became a chemistry engineer.
Of course he they got him and he took a huge punishment which caused to screw his school life.
Even though he got a really high score in his university acceptance exam, his applys were rejected by all the big schools he dreamed about. He got so, so upset about this that he even wanted to kill himself rather than living as a worthless piece of shit.
While he was rolling in thoughts of negativity, a teacher who respected Cody's success wrote a reference letter for him to an school.
The school decided to accept Cody with a few conditions. This school was not as big and as fancy as other schools he wanted but it was still better than what he could aford without that reference later. So he immediatly accepted this offer and thanked his teacher.
He did not became a chemistry engineer.
He majored in psychology which provided him the chance to do some different kind of experiments on mental health hospital residents.
He did a double major in chemistry, not in chemistry engineering.
But he's mostly using all his time for psychlogical experiments over chemical experiments. Sometimes he uses chemistry too for topics like neurotransmitter matters and the structure of hormones.
He's mostly a psychologist who you not want to cross and he works in mental health hospitals. He mostly manipulates his patients for doing something morally grey or hurtful for them either mentally or physically.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS AND PLSSS DONT BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF ITS WRITTEN BEAUTIFULLY AND I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SHARE THINGS WITH ME. I PROMSIE UR NOT BOTHERING ME AND ITS SO GOOD.
OK IMMA CHAT A LITTLE WITH IT UNDER THE CUT CUZ I LIKE IT
"That's why he focused on academic knowledge rather than human relationships. Because mathmetical problems were easier for him compared to comforting a crying person." I ABSOLUTELY LOOOOVE characters like this. who lean into math and science because they just cant grasp all of the wishy washy of emotion and that kinda stuff. characters who like clear, linear paths with rules and whatnot. i think its really interesting way to try to define a character
which is why i love "No, he focused on more complicated science fields such as quantum physics, anatomy and organic chemistry."
i love how much you focus on his desire for knowledge. i think its cool when someone CRAVES for intelligence, they want to learn, they wanna know everything they possibly can - and i think its especially interesting when that turns into scary, morbid curiosity
and i fucking love how scary it is that he decided to go snooping around during his Chernobyl trip. it just sounds like a really unsettling turn of events and i think is such a creative, yet creepy, take on what made such a big shift. going from a kinda awkward, focused, troubled kid to someone who is willing to hurt and sacrifice people for his own morbid curiosity. SUPER SCARY
and i like that he still couldnt get what he wanted. i like that he still got stuck doing smth that didnt truly appease any scary urges he had, and that he has to do his freaky killer stuff in a roundabout way by manipulating his patients
would be interesting to see if any other creeps could perhaps be his patient . . .
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literatecowboy · 8 months
Text
Dr. Feelgood
3. Physical Exams
Part 4
Start at part 1 here!
Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley.  Warnings: Gunshot wounds, medical terminology and procedures, finger up the butt, touching, allusions to NSFW
-----
Ghost lay alone in the medical bay, thoughts racing through his foggy mind. For once, he’d gotten Feelgood to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. After his flirtation you’d squeaked, snarky reply dead on your lips, and made an excuse to leave before bustling out, the door slamming behind you. 
You were infuriating. The way you bossed his colleagues around as if you had some sort of authority over them, the ways you tried to control him by cornering him and forcing him into bed, allegedly “for his own good.” The softness of your skin against his as you held him while he collapsed during his panic attack. The way he wished he could shut your smart mouth up with your plush lips wrapped around his–
The door to the med bay swung open and pulled him from his thoughts. Gaz poked his head in and glanced around, raising an eyebrow at Ghost.
“Where’s Feelgood?” he asked, wandering into the room with Soap trailing behind him. 
“Left.” Ghost grunted, shrugging his shoulders and scowling under his balaclava. 
“Where to? Price was asking after her and I think she has some questions for him too,” he said, peering into the office through the window in the door. 
“Didn’t ask.” the masked man grumbled. 
“How you feelin’ L.T. - seems like the lass is doin’ a lovely job,” Soap remarked, plopping down in a chair at his lieutenant’s side. 
“She’s competent.” Ghost said. What he wanted to say was ‘She’s a feisty little thing. I quite like her.’
“She’s scarier than you, mate. If I ever get shot, promise you’ll protect my arsehole?” Soap asked, snickering. Ghost fixed him with a glare. 
“Bring that up ever again, sergeant, and you’re a dead man,” he growled lowly. 
“Bring what up again?” you called out as you strode back into the med bay, a tray piled high with food in your arms. 
“Got you something to eat from the mess, Lieutenant,” you said with a smile, setting the tray by his bedside. 
“Hey, Feelgood, Price was askin’ after you earlier. Said you should head down to the office when you get a minute.” Gaz said, coming out of your office and offering you a smile. You returned it. 
“Thanks! I need to ask him about hiring medical support staff for this place. I’m sure you guys would be happy with more than just me poking at you all the time.”
“Hey lass, what does Feelgood mean? Where’d you get the callsign?” Soap asked, leaning back in his seat. 
“Oh, it’s stupid. Do you like classic rock?” you asked with a laugh, sitting down and sweeping your hair back into a ponytail. 
“I know enough to know Dr. Feelgood is the title of a song - Motley Crue, right?” Gaz asked, sitting next to you. 
“Yeah! I got it when I was still doing fieldwork and running missions with soldiers on the ground as a medic in the marines. One day three of us are headed into some little village and we get hit by an IED and the Humvee we’re in flips. So I crawl out, and my guys are still alive but they’re fucked up pretty bad. 
“My buddy Marston’s lost an arm so I tourniquet it and pump him full of drugs and he starts feeling good again before he passes the fuck out. And I figured fuck, why stop there? We’re all fucked up and bloody and we might die here in the sand so why not go out feeling better than just comfortable? So I offered some to Duncan after I’ve finished bandaging him up and he was like, ‘Sure, why the fuck not?’
“Then I patch myself up and put the needle in my thigh. Next thing I know I’m waking up driving a little donkey cart down the road and there are evac vehicles coming towards us. Marston’s passed out in the back and Duncan’s singing something made up - I think pretending to be the radio. 
“Anyway, I got into a metric fuckton of trouble even though we all made it out alive. I fucked my shoulder badly in the wreck, too bad to keep doing fieldwork, so they shipped me off to work in the base hospital’s emergency department. I got my shit together and went to medical school after that. 
“But the name - when my buddies came around enough to joke about it with me, they started calling me Dr. Feelgood after the song. See, it’s about a drug dealer called Jimmy who manages to evade trouble for a long time, but at the end of the song, he finally goes down on charges. They kinda reckoned my story mirrored Jimmy’s, but instead of going to prison, I got reprimanded and put in a more boring environment.” You finished. 
“Steamin’ Jesus lass, that’s–”
“I wasn’t aware you did field missions.” Ghost’s voice cut through Soap’s, silencing him. You smiled thinly. 
“Used to. Now the closest I get is coming with evac to stabilize wounded soldiers before they reach a proper hospital,” you admitted. 
“Sorry, Feelgood, but that’s pretty funny,” Gaz said with a grin, patting your knee before standing. 
“I just feel bad for whoever’s cart that was,” you admitted with a laugh, making Gaz shake his head. 
You went to see Price not long after the conversation died down under the assurances that Gaz and Soap would watch over Ghost. The door to his office was shut so you knocked softly. 
“Come in!” he called. You stepped in, taking in framed pictures and documents lining the back wall. A little plant sat atop the sill of the little window on the left wall and a couch was leaned against the right wall. 
“You wanted to see me?” you asked, slipping inside, the door shutting behind you.
“Yes! I wanted to let you know that I’ll be going on a mission with Soap and Gaz in a few days. It won’t last more than a week, but I wanted to check in with you and ask your professional opinion about Ghost’s condition before we leave. How’s he healing?” he asked, closing the laptop on his desk and fixing his gaze on you as you sat down. 
“Ghost is healing remarkably quickly and I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery provided he follows my instructions. Whether or not he does that is a matter of question,” you admitted with a smile. 
“Ah, I understand. I also wanted to ask - do you have any other concerns about the medical bay? Are there any supplies you’d like me to request for you, are we running low on anything?” Price asked. 
“What I need the most right now is support staff. Nurses, care assistants, other doctors? I know that those positions might be difficult to fill, but I’m one woman. I’m also not an anesthesiologist, an orthopedic surgeon, or a psychiatrist - my scope is very limited. 
“I also looked back at old records and I’ve noticed that none of you have ever provided medical history or undergone a physical. Before you leave for your mission, I’d like to do that for each one of you to get a baseline to compare later records to,” you said, counting each thing off on your fingers. Price nodded. 
“I can get the boys to get looked at for sure, but extra staff will take time to find. If there’s ever an emergency that you can’t tackle, we go to the general base hospital, but that’s discouraged due to the secretive nature of the work the task force does,” he explained. 
“Sir, I’d like you to undergo a physical too. Not just the boys. Do you have any reservations about seeing me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“I don’t doubt your competency, Feelgood, and I mean no offense, but I…dislike the idea of being prodded at.” Price admitted. You nodded sympathetically. 
“What if I gave you a questionnaire and you wrote things down? I’d settle for that and a check of your vitals - that’s really what I want from you guys anyway.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, come on, you’re telling me you aren’t appreciating being pampered and doted on by a cute girl while you’re laid up in bed?” Gaz asked teasingly. Ghost grunted. 
“I’d rather not have been shot, Sargent,” he said dryly, poking at the buttons on the side of the hospital bed. The bed alarm was blaring, signaling that he had gotten up, but you were too far away in Price’s office to hear. 
“But you think she’s cute, right? Come on, how could you not? And she’s got fire, too, I like her.” Gaz teased, making Ghost roll his eyes - but he didn’t respond. He finally figured out how to silence the bed alarm and the room went quiet again.
“Oh my god, you do think she’s cute! Come on mate, at least ask if she’s seeing anyone!” Soap almost shouted, laughing in disbelief. 
“If anything, I’d like to see less of her. She’s fuckin’ everywhere, buzzing around me. Won’t shut the fuck up.” Ghost said. This was a lie - he just didn’t want his teammates to see how you got under his skin. Soap and Gaz groaned in unison. 
“You should see if she’ll come out with us before we leave. I wonder if she likes bars?” Gaz wondered aloud. Ghost stiffened where he stood. 
“You’re leaving? All of you?” he asked.
“Less than a week, it’s a quick one this time. It’ll just be you and the–” Soap’s eyes widened in realization.
“Steamin’ Jesus it’ll just be him and the doc!” he exclaimed, turning wide-eyed to Gaz. 
“If anything happens–”
“Watch your mouth before you end up with me here in the med bay.”
“--you’ll tell us, right?”
“It’s perfect, you’ve got a whole week to flirt with her without him bothering you,” Gaz said, jabbing his thumb back at Soap.
Gaz was your first physical patient. You’d offered to take him back into your office for privacy but he said he didn’t mind Ghost sitting in. Ghost was on his phone on the couch in the corner with a cup of tea and hardly paying attention to the world - it was a compromise you’d come to once you found out he’d broken the bed alarm and he’d threatened to go back to his room permanently. 
“I didn’t know your name was Kyle. I like it, it suits you,” you remarked as you took his blood pressure. 
“Thanks, Feelgood.”
“Makes you sound like an American frat boy.” Ghost quipped from the corner. 
“Hey, be nice. Is HIPAA a thing over here?” you asked. Gaz laughed and shrugged and you went forward with the exam.
Overall he seemed to be in exceptional health and you were satisfied with your findings. Gaz seemed oddly relieved when you told him so, almost as if he was worried he’d fail the health exam. You sent him outside and called Soap in. 
“Hey, lass, no finger up the arse today right?” he asked nervously, sitting down on the gurney you’d set up as you took his temperature. 
“Not unless you’re into it,” you said dryly, earning a surprised cough from Ghost and a laugh from Soap. 
Soap’s exam went as well as Gaz’s had and he walked out with an inflated ego when you informed him that he was in excellent physical shape. You decided to approach Ghost next. 
“Your turn big guy,” you said, gesturing for him to raise his arm so you could attach the blood pressure cuff.
“I’ve been in this fuckin’ bay for days, don’t you have enough?” he grumbled but reluctantly obeyed - only so he could feel your warm hands against his skin as you secured the cuff. 
“I’ve been managing your wound and making sure you don’t get infected, not doing full physicals every day,” you said with a laugh. “Give me your hand?” 
He held it out to you and you took it, gently attaching the clip. His hand dwarfed yours and your face warmed slightly as you lowered the hand back to his thigh. Ghost watched you attentively, doing his best to read your expressions. You cleared your throat. 
“So, got anything cool you like to do on leave?” you asked, doing your best to strike up a conversation. 
“No.” Ghost grunted, a little too harshly. He winced and immediately felt bad. You took the equipment off of him when it had finished reading his vitals and tucked it away in the corner again, a little hurt. 
“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute as you fiddled with your stethoscope. “I didn’t mean to say that so aggressively.”
“It’s alright. Can I listen to your heart or would you rather me not touch you?” you asked briskly, watching him. 
“S’alright,” he grumbled, sitting forward and tugging his shirt off. 
“Oh, you didn’t have to– that’s okay, I can check your bandages afterward,” you said, your face hot as you took the sight of him in. Scars and old wounds crisscrossed his chest and a large bruise extended from beneath the bandages near his side. 
You put a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned forward, carefully listening to his heart through your stethoscope. His skin was warm and it made butterflies take flight in your stomach. 
“Can I hear from your back?” you asked softly after a moment. Ghost grunted his assent and bent forward. You leaned over his shoulder slowly, pressing your stethoscope to his back. 
Ghost couldn’t help himself as you leaned over him. Your soft skin practically burned him where you touched him and his heart rate picked up quickly. He took a deep breath and gently wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying his hand on your lower back. 
You looked at him in surprise but didn’t pull away. He met your gaze for a moment before pulling away and sitting forward again. 
“M’ sorry. Should go get something to eat.” he grumbled, picking his shirt up and moving to put it back on. 
“It’s - uh…it’s okay! Can I…change your bandages first?” you asked softly, your voice coming out as almost a squeak. Ghost nodded and waited patiently as you gathered the supplies you needed. The feeling of your touch against him made him shiver when you returned. 
How he wished he could reach out and sweep you up in his arms, press a kiss to your lips, whisk you back to his room, and never leave. As you changed his bandages, he watched and imagined you trailing those delicate fingers up his chest to ruck his mask up and pull him down into a kiss. 
“Thanks,” he uttered as you finished, and that’s all he did. He tugged his shirt on and was almost to the door when he turned around. 
“Soap and Gaz wanted me to ask you if you’d come out with the lot of us before they leave,” he said. You didn’t have to think about it. 
“Of course!”
-----
taglist: @iamaliceinwonderland, @itsmeamysworld, @ghostlythots, @oranoyaora, @keiva1000
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thescrumblingmidwife · 7 months
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Hi! I know other people have sent similar asks before but I thought I'd send my own just to be sure. I can't fit more than a finger... up there. And even then its a tight fit. That's enough for me but I'm worried about if I go for a pap smear (I think that's what its called, I have a bad memory): something has to go up there right? Will it fit? What happens if it doesn't? Is it going to be a hassle to request a woman? How much do I need to "clean up"? No pressure to respond right away, I get that you're busy. I just wanna know what to expect. Thank you! 😊❤
Hi Anon!
How old are you? You don't need a pap smear until 21, and you don't need a pelvic exam at all before then unless you've got some kind of complaint or you want to get fitted for an IUD. If you are 21+ and have had zero sexual contact, you can discuss a modified schedule with your provider.
PELVIC EXAMS
Reminder - pelvic exam is when the doctor/midwife examines your pelvic area and vagina. This can include the use of a speculum or not, and be done for a number of reasons. Pap smear is a screening test where we take a cell sample (like a cheek swab) from your cervix to check for HPV/precancerous lesions. A pap smear is usually conducted in conjunction with a pelvic exam, but not all pelvic exams include a pap smear, as you don't usually need one every year.
Let's go through your questions one by one. But first I want to start by saying that medical consent is the same as regular consent - you have a right to refuse or defer any procedure or examination, or to stop one at any time. You have the right to fully understand everything you're consenting to, and ask as many questions as you need to feel comfortable. If you make an initial appointment with an OBGYN or midwife, and she doesn't pass the vibe check, you are not obligated to go through with the exam. It can be scary to stand up to someone who seems like they're in a position of power, but you should know that you can.
"Something has to go up there, right?"
At your first GYN appointment, nothing has to go anywhere. You'll meet with a provider, she'll take your full medical history, your menstrual and sexual history, your family history, ask if there are any concerns you want to discuss. At this point, you should talk to her about your issues with insertion and your anxiety about it. She may want to have a look (literally just eyeballs) to ensure there's nothing going on, but she will ask permission before doing any touching, and explain everything she's doing. If she thinks it's worth attempting a pelvic exam, she would start very slowly and only with your full buy-in. It may be necessary to try to figure out if you've got an underlying problem.
When a pelvic exam is warranted (like when you need a pap), the provider may first insert fingers while pressing on your belly (called a bimanual exam) to assess your anatomy, and then use a device called a speculum, which allows us to actually see the inside of the vagina (speculum exam). The speculum will be lubricated, and the provider will coach you through the insertion process. You can also ask about inserting it yourself. Usually, you lie back and put your legs up in stirrups, and are coached to let your knees fall out and give a deep breath out, so as to relax your pelvic floor muscles, while the speculum is inserted down and back (towards your tailbone) in a smooth motion. You'll then feel a bit of pressure as the blades of the speculum are slowly opened so the provider can peek through. It shouldn't hurt, but it can be uncomfortable. I don't know anyone who actively enjoys speculum exams, but most people would say they're not too bad. The whole thing is over in a matter of seconds.
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"Will it fit?"
Speculums come in a wide range of sizes, in plastic or metal (if metal, it will be warmed). You can ask for the smallest speculum they have (they make pediatric-sized speculums, so there are definitely small ones - see middle device in the image below, about the size of a finger). The provider will use one that should fit based on your history, anxiety/preferences, and her visual inspection of you - but don't be afraid to speak up.
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"What happens if it doesn't?"
If you have an anatomical variation that means even a pediatric speculum could not fit, the provider will likely catch this before you get to the speculum stage. If you've got something going on like vaginismus, this will help her diagnose you. The most likely scenario is that you just need a competent and compassionate provider you trust and some good coaching. But what will NOT happen is the provider trying to jam something into you that doesn't fit!
"Is it going to be a hassle to request a woman?"
Absolutely not. It's very normal to have gender preferences with medical providers, especially for something so sensitive. Just ask for a female provider when you're requesting your appointment. You can also ask to see a midwife -- we're something like 96-99% female-identified, with most of the rest being AFAB trans/GNC/NB. (There ARE a few male midwives, but they're really rare).
"How much do I need to 'clean up'?"
If you've got time and it would make you feel better, take a shower before you come, wash with soap and water like normal. But if you can only get in on your lunch break or something, that's fine. Otherwise, you don't need to do anything! I promise your pubic hair is not so forest-like that we will not be able to examine you. Don't douche, or use any fragrances or lotions unless you would like some patient education about how you should not use "feminine products."
Okay Anon, that's an initial GYN visit in a nutshell!
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raina-at · 1 year
Text
Clues
“And where are you off to?” John asks, looking up from his textbook. He’s sitting in the kitchen, studying for his anatomy exam and eating chips.
Sherlock passes by the table and takes a chip from the paper plate John is holding out in an unspoken invitation. “Molly needs help with organic chemistry.”
John smiles at him fondly. “That’s awfully nice of you, sacrificing your Friday night to help her.”
Sherlock rolls his eyes. “She’s going to be Anderson’s TA next semester, meaning she’ll have access to the lab after hours. It’s a simple exchange.”
“Yes, yes, you keep telling yourself that, much easier to pretend you couldn’t just break into the lab like you’ve done all of last year, instead of admitting that Molly’s your friend and that’s why you’re helping her.”
Sherlock helps himself to another chip. “Shut up,” he says, then pops the chip into his mouth, making John laugh. 
The sound shivers down Sherlock’s spine like a warm caress, making him feel warm all over. He’s long since stopped asking himself why making John laugh is the best feeling in the world, he’s just accepted that it is. 
“Fine, go share your big genius brain with the girl who isn’t your friend at all, of course,” John answers. He gets up and nudges Sherlock with his shoulder as he passes to the sofa. “Text me if you’re going to spend the night, okay?”
“Yes, mother,” Sherlock says with mock annoyance. 
John flips Sherlock off absently, already engrossed in his textbook again. “Finish off the chips, will you,” he says absently.
Sherlock shrugs into his coat and grabs the chips from the table to have on his way. “Don’t wait up,” he says in lieu of goodbye and closes the door behind him.
*-*
“So, if you look at the molecular structure of- Molly, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”
Molly looks up from her textbook and blushes scarlet. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I’m just-”
“Just what? Ungrateful? Inattentive? Wasting my time?” Sherlock ticks the points off his fingers. “Uninterested in passing this course? Willing to throw your future away?”
Molly drops her head, her forehead meeting her textbook with a painful-sounding thud. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”
Sherlock sighs. “Let me guess. This is about a boy.”
“Yes,” Molly all but wails. “I’m being so stupid! But I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s so handsome” She lifts her head a bit, looking at Sherlock with a pleading expression. “You know Greg? From the rugby team?”
Sherlock nods, his anger abating somewhat. Greg apparently has a debilitating effect on girls. He’s noticed it on several occasions where John dragged him to social gatherings. The effect is entirely lost on Sherlock himself, though he acknowledges that Greg is good looking. Maybe it’s because Greg is so unquestioningly straight, but then again, so is John, and John’s mere presence both enhances Sherlock’s intellect and has the ability to derail it completely. So he sympathises with Molly. To an extent.
“What would it take for you to be able to actually concentrate on what we’re doing?” he asks, checking his watch. It’s only nine, maybe they can save some of this study session.
“If I knew for sure that he’s not interested, I could put it out of my mind. I know he likes me, but I’m not sure if we’re just mates, or if he wants to take it further.” She pulls out what looks like a battered women’s magazine. “There’s a list of clues here. Whether someone likes you. Maybe we could….” she trails off, giving Sherlock a hopeful smile.
Sherlock sighs. “Let’s have it then.”
“Okay, clue one: He’s looking for excuses to touch you.”
“Sounds a bit fishy,” Sherlock says, waggling his hand in a ‘not sure about that’ gesture, thinking of how John constantly bumps against him, puts a hand on his shoulder, or his arm. “Friends touch quite often as well.”
“He did touch my arm this afternoon,” Molly says, musing aloud. “I’m going to mark it down as a yes.”
Sherlock decides he needs a control group. He’ll compare the clues on the list to things normal friends — like he and John — do all the time.
“Go on.”
“Clue two: Shares food. Greg gave me half of his muffin last week.”
John sharing his chips without even a second thought. “Meaningless. Next.”
“Compliments you. Greg told me I’m really smart the other day, does that count?”
John calls him brilliant and amazing all the time. “No. Friends like each other, that’s not an indicator for romantic attraction.”
“One or two of these are normal among friends, it says here. If you get seven or eight out of ten, he’s interested in more,” Molly muses, but continues reading the clues out when Sherlock makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture. “Four: Shows concern for your wellbeing.”
Text me when you stay over. Finish my chips. Do you want some tea? “Friends do that. Next.”
“Five: Goes fishing for information about your romantic life. Greg did ask me if I have plans for the weekend, do you think he might- Sherlock, are you listening to me?”
Do you have a girlfriend? 
Not really my area.
Do you have a boyfriend, then?
Their first conversation over dinner the evening John moved in, after Mike introduced them as potential flatmates. 
“Read the next clue.”
Molly looks down at the paper. “Shows interest in your hobbies.”
John leaning over him and looking at crime scene pictures, John listening to him go on about the chemistry of tobacco ash and the infinite varieties of London soil, John’s enthusiasm for his violin…
Sherlock swallows. “Next.”
“Initiates contact, makes plans.”
He takes out his phone and looks at his last ten text alerts. They’re all from John.
“Next.”
“Wants to meet your family.”
Well, nobody wants to meet Mycroft, but John usually offers him tea when he comes over, and John’s shown a certain amount of — morbid — curiosity about their parents. 
“Next.”
“Blows off people and plans to spend time with you.”
“And the last one?” Sherlock asks, unsure if what he feels is hope or dread. 
“Lots of eye contact.”
“Molly,” Sherlock croaks, unsteadily. “I have to go.”
*-*
The way home takes thirty minutes and that’s time enough for Sherlock to do some serious thinking on the subject of John Watson, and what Sherlock wants from him.
Facts: John is intelligent, smart, funny, good company, he smells good, his eyes are extraordinary, he’s the only person Sherlock could envision living with and his laugh makes Sherlock shiver.
He comes to the following conclusions:  a) He’s in love with John, and has been since they met. b) He’s a massive idiot. 
*-*
Sherlock bursts into John’s bedroom without knocking. “Do you like me?”
John, who was fast asleep face down on his textbook, sits up, blinking against the light. “What?”
“You know how much I hate repeating myself,” Sherlock says, running a hand through his hair, gesturing in agitation. “Do you like me?” he asks, gesturing between the two of them.
John blinks, obviously still half asleep. “Um…”
“Answer the question!” Sherlock snaps, irritated.
“I’m not even sure I know what the question is,” John says, frowning at Sherlock, confused. “You storm in here in the middle of the night and yell incoherent nonsense at me, and you’re irritated at me?”
“We got ten out of ten, John! Ten out of ten!” Sherlock yells, dimly aware that this doesn’t exactly help John with anything, but too agitated to care. “You touch me all the time, you care about me, you let me rant at you, you feed me, you’re polite to my brother, you haven’t been on a date for months,” Sherlock enumerates the points, checking them off with his fingers. “I forget the rest, but you see the point, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure I do,” John says, rubbing a tired hand over his forehead. “You asked if I like you. Of course I do, we’re friends.”
“Yes, obviously, but do you like me? Like me, like me? Have sexual and/or romantic interest in me? The clues say you do, and the clues never lie!”
John looks distinctly uncomfortable, and he’s even blushing a bit, which Sherlock rates as a very good sign. “Um…” he rubs the back of his neck, a classic nervous tell, then he looks up at Sherlock, and there’s that eye contact the article was talking about. “Would that be a problem?”
Sherlock releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Of course not, you absolute idiot. Why do you think I endure your dreadfully slow typing, your inability to pick up your dirty socks from the bathroom floor and your horrid taste in music? I’m obviously completely besotted with you and have been for a while now. Granted, I only realised right now but-”
He doesn’t get any further because John pulls him down to the bed, rolls on top of him and starts kissing him like there’s nothing better to do in the whole entire world, a sentiment Sherlock is in complete agreement with.
“I think we’re done talking for now,” John says with a wicked grin as he pulls back a bit to look at Sherlock.
Sherlock quite agrees and pulls John down for another round of snogging.
He makes a mental note to thank Molly in the morning. Then he dismisses everything that’s not John from his mind. It’s surprisingly easy. 
Have a bit of fluffy Unilock with awkward boys today. This got long, that's why I cut it.
Thanks for the prompt and the tag, @calaisreno
Tagging a few people to join the fun: @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @jrow @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @totallysilvergirl @khorazir @catlock-holmes @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk
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