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mephisto-reporting · 2 months ago

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Husband?

About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

RAFAYEL

The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didn’t want to deal with the “art-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.

One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayel’s "creative process" (whatever that was—he hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long you’d been working with him.

“Oh, it’s been a while now. It’s honestly amazing seeing him grow like this—my husb—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.

"Husband?"

The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayel’s presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?

“Husband, huh?” Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. “I didn’t realize we were making things official tonight. If I’d known, I’d have worn something even more dazzling.”

You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t want to marry someone as charming as me?"

The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. “Of course, as your loving husband,” he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, “it’s only fitting that I’m showered with even more attention now, isn’t it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. “I didn’t mean to—"

"Oh no, no,” he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. “You can’t take it back now. The word’s out, Miss Bodyguard. You’ve called me your husband. That means you’re stuck with me. Forever.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Does this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. “As if you needed a reason to cheat more!”

Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. “Well, if I’m your husband now, I think it’s only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machines—oh, and don’t forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.”

Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, playing along. “But don’t expect me to let you win at everything, ‘husband.’”

Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, “Deal.” Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. “Now, let’s go, wife. You’re required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. ”

Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re impossible.”

The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. “You two make quite the pair.”

“Oh, we do, don’t we?” Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now they’ll all expect a wedding invitation.”

Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. “Still… I can’t say I hate the sound of it,” he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. “I might just get used to hearing it.”

You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.

Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.

ZAYNE

You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. He’d taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.

"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.

"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting old’s no fun."

You offered him a sympathetic smile. “No problem at all. My husband’s a doctor, actually. I’m sure he’d tell you to take it easy on that wrist."

The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slip—husband—or the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.

You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."

You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what you’d said. You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. “I didn’t— I mean, it just—slipped out. We’re not actually—I mean, obviously, we’re not—” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.

Zayne didn’t seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. “You know,” he said, voice as calm as ever, “if this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.” His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didn’t know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Zayne, I didn’t mean to—”

But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not like I mind the idea.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, “Seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it? My parents have been asking me when I’m going to take that step with you for a while now.”

His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. “Wait, your parents…?” you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.

“Mhm,” Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’ve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was serious—calm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadn’t even realized you both wanted.

“Only if you wanted to, of course,” he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. “I wouldn’t do anything unless we both agreed.”

You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. “You’re really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?”

Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. “Well, we’re already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.” He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. “Besides, I think it’s worth discussing what our future looks like, don’t you?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. “I think it’s definitely worth talking about.”

Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. “We’ll talk more later.”

He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadn’t just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.

“And for the record,” he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, “I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘husband’ again.”

Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didn’t bother trying to hide your smile. “Guess you’ll have to earn it first, doctor.”

Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. “I’ll be sure to work on that.”

SYLUS

The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious ventures—no explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.

You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.

Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. “Excuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. I’m feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,” you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.

The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.

“Husband?” His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. “Did I miss a wedding, wife?”

Your breath caught in your throat. "Wait—no, I didn't mean—" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylus’ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Maybe this is a sign I should make it official.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. “Official?” you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “What—what are you talking about?”

Sylus’ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. “Oh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. “You seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.”

You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. “I…I was just…helping us get a table,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “But now that you’ve set the bar so high, don’t tell me you’re going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.”

“I wasn’t—” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. “You know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Don’t start getting ideas.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Ideas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.” His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. “But let’s be honest, you didn’t hate it. Calling me your husband.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. “I didn’t hate it,” you admitted, folding your arms, “but don’t go thinking you’ve won. I’m not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.”

Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll see about that, kitten” he said, the threat—or promise—hanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Please, Sylus. You couldn’t handle being married to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. You’re the one who might need to keep up.”

You shot back, “Keep up? I’d be carrying you the whole way.”

“Careful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.” He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. “Now that’s a tempting thought.”

“Tempting? Try exhausting,” you quipped.

As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.

This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.

XAVIER

The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drink—no whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasn’t going to say a word about it, but that didn’t mean you were going to let it slide.

Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. “Excuse me,” you began, with a polite smile. “My husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like there’s some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?”

The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didn’t even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.

He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion and—was that amusement? “Husband?” he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.

Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. “Oh, no, wait—! I didn’t mean—” You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “That just slipped out! I meant to say…uh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Not—well, not husband, obviously…”

Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. “I must’ve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'” he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. “I didn’t know we’d moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.”

You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. “I swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.”

But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. “So, dear wife,” he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, “do you think we’ll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?”

You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. “Very funny,” you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.

“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. “I wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you did call me your husband in public. Shouldn’t we at least play the part now?”

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t resist playing along with his ridiculousness. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “But just so you know, dear husband, you’ll be the one doing the dishes.”

Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. “As long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.”

You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavier’s newly corrected drink—this time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if she’d picked up on the playful atmosphere. “Here you go,” she said. “No whipped cream this time, sir.”

Xavier’s eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. “See? Husband perks,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But... thank you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. “For speaking up for me.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. “Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s what wives do, right?”

Xavier let out a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the café. Just the two of you, playing pretend—but maybe, just maybe, something more.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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heartswithinreach · 3 months ago

Note

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

#i think rafayel is the only one who hasn't carried us yet...? correct me if i'm wrong #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #my writing

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lass-us-slay · 6 months ago

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So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

#dp x dc #fan art #danny phantom #dc universe #Danny saw a clean un-used trash can in an alley which no one normal came into and went: Yes.#The trash can is his Haunt now B-!#Danny has fun scaring the few people who actually come into the alley #Danny is FINALLY getting some well needed rest ever since becoming a halfa #He doesn’t get why these people are nothing him #can’t they leave him alone? what he do!#Danny ain’t about to leave his trash can #HE GON FIGHT YOU TWO IF HE HAS TO #B and WW are both equally concerned #they don’t want to leave his probable alien/meta child in a FEAKING TRASH CAN #They taking him by force.#they gonna share custody of him lmao #I can totally see WW and Batman both parenting Danny with him realizing it AT ALL #Also idk what happened to Amity or anyone #maybe they all died???#idk #but Danny may or may not be scared of going back home #that’s why he’s here #feel free to add to this

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rafey-baby · 4 months ago

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c/w: bf!rafe being very persuasive, heavily suggestive, fluff

18+ mdni!

wc: 710

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

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” Rafe mumbles next to her ear with his head tucked into the crook of her neck, soothing breaths and pillowy lips tickling the sensitive skin there.

He's lying on top of her on their bed, his body pressing her into the soft mattress like a weighted blanket; warm and heavy, making her feel so safe while his fingers mindlessly play with her hair, tangling into the strands and twirling one around his index finger.

“I love you,” he hums contently before he’s pasting sloppy kisses all over her face, forcing her to let out a squeaky giggle along with a breathy ‘I love you’ when he begins to trail lower, smearing his mouth on the expanse of her neck; the flat of his tongue laving over her throat.

“Rafe…” she whimpers when she can feel him poking against her lower belly.

“Missed you,” he groans when her nails scratch over his buzzed head as he gives a lazy rut of his hips against her.

“Missed you more,” she murmurs back.

“I don’t think that’s true,” he scrunches his nose, feigning offense.

“Yes, it is!” She huffs playfully, fingers slipping under his shirt, the thermal skin of his abdomen greeting her.

“Yeah? How much?” He lifts his head up slightly, blue moonstones locking with her eyes in a challenge.

“This much,” she gives him a giddy smile, hands leaving their home from resting on his stomach and drawing apart as far as they go.

“Uh huh? Well, I missed you this much,” he momentarily gets up to sit back and widen his own arms; much bigger than hers, therefore making the distance between them far longer as well.

“That’s not fair!” Her brows crease.

“No? Neither is you leaving me for the whole day,” he grumbles, slumping down on top of her smaller frame once more.

“I can’t just drop out of uni for you, can I? And you have your business as well,” she tries to reason, but her arguments seem to fall on deaf ears.

“I know, Baby. What if you stay home tomorrow, hm? I could take the day off and we could just stay home all day, yeah?” The way he’s beginning to mouth at her left nipple through the flimsy material of her (his) worn out t-shirt is making it entirely too difficult for her to deny him of anything at the moment.

“Rafe…I have an important lecture tomorrow,” she lets out a sigh that turns into a whine when his big palm squeezes at her other tit, thumb idly rubbing against the puffy bud.

“I don’t care, you’re already so smart, don’t even need to go,” his heady tone is muffled by the shirt-covered nipple between his lips, teeth teasingly nipping at it.

“Rafe, you’re not making any sense,” she lets out a giggle, followed by a moan when she can now feel his cock nudging against her clit through the layers of fabric and all of a sudden, his jumbled words have turned crystal clear.

“Need you to just say yes, Baby,” he rasps out, coaxing her to give in with another lazy thrust of his hips.

And that’s all it takes for her resolve to crumble.

“Okay,” she's nodding, not missing the way a smug grin hangs on his face in victory.

It’s just one day, right? Unless he decides to keep her from leaving the house for 'just a few more days', (as he’s done in the past); coming up with excuses as to why she can’t go to class and then before she realizes it, she’s stayed home for the rest of the week.

However, she doesn’t mind all that much. After all, she prefers to spend time with the love of her life over anything else. In some twisted way, she gets all dizzy inside whenever Rafe turns into something so clingy to this extent.

The following morning, she wakes up with his cum leaking out of her; making her sore inner thighs sticky when she shifts into a different position. And when she turns her head to the side she's met with his serene form, deep asleep; one hand holding onto her left tit possessively and his steady breaths fanning the back of her neck.

Her foggy mind thinks she must still be dreaming.

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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

Text

Breaking the Ice

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Lando Norris x Räikkönen!Reader

Summary: a boy who never shuts up meets a girl who rarely wastes the energy to speak … it doesn’t go as expected (or in which not having much to say runs in the Räikkönen family)

Lando shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting nervously as he awaits the arrival of the other drivers for the pre-season press conference. His gaze darts around the stark concrete room, taking in the harsh lighting and the row of empty chairs on the raised platform.

This is his sixth season in Formula 1, but the thrill of the new year and the prospect of racing still sends butterflies fluttering through his stomach. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

The door opens and you stride in, Valtteri Bottas at your side. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to you, the rookie driver already capturing attention despite your quiet presence. You move with the casual confidence of someone who has grown up in this world, unbothered by the lights and cameras.

Lando finds himself staring, captivated by the way you carry yourself. The famously reserved Räikkönen genes clearly run through your veins.

Before Lando can gather his wits to introduce himself, you slide into the chair at the end of the row, Valtteri taking the seat next to you. Lando blinks, realizing he’s been caught gawking.

Smooth, Norris. Real smooth.

He clears his throat and makes his way over, mustering his most charming grin. “Hi there! Lando Norris. Welcome to the circus.”

You turn towards him, your expression unreadable. For a beat, you simply regard him in silence. Then, “Hey.”

You give a small nod of acknowledgment before turning away, effectively shutting down the conversation. Lando’s smile falters as you refocus your attention on … absolutely nothing at all.

Well, that’s a bit rude. He frowns, stung by the brush-off. So much for breaking the ice. Maybe you’re just shy around new people? Lando decides to give you the benefit of the doubt as the other drivers begin filing in.

He takes his seat a few chairs away, sneaking sidelong glances at you. You haven’t so much as glanced in his direction again, adopting the same thousand-yard stare as the Iceman.

Like father, like daughter, Lando muses with a shake of his head.

When the press conference gets underway, question after question is lobbed at the drivers. Lando fields them with his usual charismatic charm, unable to resist hamming it up for the cameras with comedic flair. In contrast, you remain stubbornly curt whenever the mic is passed your way.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I don’t know.”

Your terse responses draw titters of laughter from the audience and press corps alike. Lando watches in amazement, unable to fathom how anyone could be so … so ...

“Boring?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.

You cut your eyes towards him, holding his gaze for the first time since your noncommittal greeting. Lando feels himself flush, suddenly uncertain if he’s been too cheeky. But then the corners of your mouth tug up in an unmistakable smirk before you turn away again, leaving him to wonder if he’s imagined it.

By the time the press conference mercifully ends, Lando has decided you’re definitely an odd duck. But also … kind of fascinating? In an eccentric, robotic sort of way? He’s not sure what to make of his swirling thoughts as you all rise to make your exit.

Lando hangs back, angling to get one more shot at conversation. “Hey, uh, Y/N? I know you’re still getting your feet wet here, but if you ever need any advice or, you know, someone to show you the ropes, I’m always around.”

You pause, glancing back at him over your shoulder. For a fleeting second, Lando thinks he detects … what? Amusement? Disbelief? It’s impossible to tell with your trademark poker face firmly in place.

“Thanks,” you reply, your tone mild. “But I’m good.”

And with that, you pivot on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando to stare after you.

“Huh,” he mutters to himself. So much for breaking the ice.

As the next couple of days of testing wear on, Lando can’t seem to get a read on you. Oh, you’re perfectly courteous whenever your paths happen to cross in the paddock. You’ll return his greetings with a respectful nod or murmur of acknowledgment.

But that’s as far as it goes. You’re polite, but also totally inscrutable. Lando has no idea what you make of him, or really anything at all that might be going on inside that head of yours. All he knows is that his curiosity about you has been thoroughly piqued.

One morning, Lando spies you sitting alone, sipping from a a mug of coffee as you study a stack of data printouts. He ambles over, determined to try chatting you up again.

“Y/N! How’s it going?” His voice is cheerfully upbeat. “That coffee from the hotel? Because let me tell you, it’s rubbish. If you want a proper brew, you’ve got to venture out and find a decent cafe. I know all the best spots around here if you’d like some recommendations ...”

He trails off as you simply look up at him, silent and unblinking. Lando clears his throat, feeling oddly off-kilter beneath your steady regard.

“Anyway,” he blusters on, undeterred. “How are you finding testing so far? Not too overwhelming, I hope? If you ever want to debrief or go over data or anything, I’m happy to lend an ear. Or even an eye, I suppose, since it’s more looking at numbers than listening to-”

“Bwoah.”

The single syllable cuts through Lando’s babbling. You set down your coffee and rise to your feet in one effortless, graceful movement. Lando blinks in surprise as you turn and walk away without another word.

“Oh. Erm. Sure, just … ignore me then,” he mutters, feeling his cheeks flush hotly.

He shakes his head as you disappear around the corner, baffled by your total indifference. But then a wry chuckle escapes his lips as the truth dawns on him with crystal clarity.

You’re not rude or shy at all. That’s just … who you are. Curt, to the point, unconcerned with frivolous chitchat and social niceties. You’ve got laser-focus, and nothing is going to distract you from your pursuit of speed.

In that moment, Lando feels a swell of admiration. He gets it now — you’re carved from the same uncompromising bedrock as your old man. Refreshingly authentic without any affectations or pretense.

Most people would find your blunt aloofness off-putting. But not Lando. No, he finds the prospect of unraveling the mystery that is Y/N Räikkönen irresistibly intriguing.

He grins to himself as he ambles off to get ready for his own session out on track. Just you wait, Y/N. He’s going to get you to crack a smile yet, even if it kills him.

After all, whoever said being a woman of few words was a bad thing?

***

Lando is in the middle of his pre-race routine, trying to center his mind and get into the zone, when you appear out of nowhere and thrust something at him.

“Here,” you say brusquely.

He blinks, puzzled, as he registers the scraggly bundle of wildflowers gripped in your fist. They look like they’ve been unceremoniously ripped out of the dirt, roots, soil and all.

“Uh … what’s this?” Lando asks.

You meet his confused gaze head on, your expression typically unreadable. “Flowers. For you.”

“For me?” Lando repeats dumbly. He glances around, as if expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out at any second. “Are you … giving me these?”

“No, I’m giving them to the other idiot who won’t stop yapping at me every single day,” you deadpan.

Lando feels his cheeks grow warm at the mild rebuke. He knows you’re referring to his persistent, if extremely one-sided attempts at conversation over the past few weeks. All his friendly openings and invitations have been met with a string of indifferent brush-offs and noncommittal hums.

Can’t blame a guy for trying, right? At least he’s being polite, which is more than he can say for-

“Well?” You break into his thoughts, arching one coolly expectant brow. “Are you wooed or not?”

This time it’s Lando’s turn to stare at you blankly. “I’m … sorry, what?”

“Wooed,” you repeat flatly. “You said the girl of your dreams would woo you with flowers or some nonsense. So I got you flowers.” You give the bedraggled bouquet a little shake for emphasis. “Now you’re wooed. Happy?”

It takes a moment for the words to click into place in Lando’s brain. Then a strangled laugh bursts from his lips as he remembers the foolish, offhand comment he made in an interview a few days ago. He’d been prattling on about his imaginary ideal partner, somehow painting the ridiculous picture of himself being “wooed” like some lovestruck Victorian lady.

Leave it to you to take the whole ludicrous scenario at face value. Lando can’t decide if he’s more charmed or bewildered by the fact that you’ve actually gone to the trouble of physically wooing him with … weeds?

“You cannot be serious right now,” he sputters out between residual chuckles.

You simply stand there, utterly unfazed as you hold out the world’s saddest excuse for a bouquet expectantly. “Well? Am I doing it right or not?”

“Doing what right?” Lando shakes his head, chortling again. “This whole wooing business? Y/N, that was just me rambling on like an idiot, as usual. You didn’t actually have to-”

“But I did,” you interject, effectively cutting off his protests. “So. Are. You. Wooed?”

Lando opens his mouth, then closes it again as he searches for the right response. There’s no menace or mockery in your expression, just that same intense focus and matter-of-fact bluntness that you apply to everything. Somehow, he gets the distinct impression that you won’t be deterred until he gives you a straight answer.

“Uh … no?” He ventures at last. “N-Not really, I guess?”

You stand there for a beat, Processing his words. Then you give a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Okay. That’s a you problem.”

With that, you turn smartly on your heel and stride away, leaving Lando gaping after you in a stupor. He stares down at the shoddy little bundle of greenery still clutched in his hand, not sure whether to laugh or just shake his head in amazed disbelief.

“A ‘me’ problem?” he mutters, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Well, you’ve got me there, Y/N.”

Because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that you respecting him enough to even entertain his absurd hypothetical … that might just be his new favorite problem.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Lando brings his car across the finish line in fourth place. Not his best result, but respectable points in the bag. He allows himself a tight smile as he peels into the pit lane and kills the engine.

Until the unmistakable bright green and black livery of your Kick Sauber fills his vision, that is.

Lando does a double take, his jaw dropping as the implication sinks in. No way. There’s absolutely no way you’ve … you’ve won this race, right? In that underpowered, aerodynamically-challenged shitbox?

He can scarcely believe his eyes as you glide to a stop behind the large “1” board. The cheers and applause swelling around the track leave no doubt — somehow, against all odds, you’ve just taken the top step of the podium.

Lando scrambles out of his own car, tugging off his helmet and balaclava as he hustles across parc fermé in a daze. The first thing he notices is the sheer confusion and shock etched onto the faces of everyone else milling around. Even the marshals look gobsmacked by this upset for the ages.

In the middle of the chaos, you’re casually unfurling yourself from the cockpit with your trademark nonchalance. Like this is just another ho-hum Sunday drive for Y/N Räikkönen instead of, you know, the most spectacular overachievement in recent Formula 1 history.

Lando stands there gaping at you, unable to fully process what’s just happened. He vaguely registers the rest of the top finishers pulling in around you, their body language radiating bewilderment and disbelief as they all turn to stare, dumbstruck.

No one can quite seem to believe that an underdog backmarker has just eclipsed them all in a car that typically struggles to score points, let alone wins.

For your part, you’re projecting indifference to the chaos swirling around you. You simply grab a water bottle and take a long, unhurried pull, seemingly oblivious to the escalating frenzy.

Then, you casually turn in Lando’s direction and arch one brow ever-so-slightly. A silent question.

“I … you ...” Lando sputters uselessly, his brain still stuttering to catch up. “Did you seriously just ...”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards, hinting at a suppressed grin. “Well?” You prompt him calmly. “Are you wooed yet or what?”

It takes a moment for the light to flicker on in Lando’s mind. Any other time, he’d be delighted by the playful ribbing, eager to keep the back-and-forth banter flowing.

But right now, something else cuts through the haze of astonishment clouding his thoughts.

“Wait … is this ...” Lando squints at you searchingly. “Did you just win this race … for me?”

The words slip out before he can stop them. Because that would be such an impossibly, endearingly you thing to do, wouldn’t it? To dedicate achieving the unachievable all because of an offhand remark about wanting to be wooed?

His heart does a strange little flip-flop at the mere idea of you going to such outlandishly romantic lengths, all for the sake of who-even-knows-what is brewing between you two these days.

For a long beat, you simply stare back at him, your expression unreadable as ever. Then, “What?” You let out a faintly derisive snort. “No, of course not. Why would I do that?”

The words detonate like a slap in the face, momentarily winding Lando with their blunt force. “Oh. Well, I just thought maybe since I mentioned the whole wooing thing, and then you ...”

You shake your head impatiently, cutting him off. “You’re not the one who won this race, Lando.”

With that, you turn on your heel and stride away, dismissing him with a curt finality. Lando is left speechless, mouth agape as he watches your retreating back.

Around him, the rest of the drivers and crew are still buzzing with perplexed whispers and incredulous looks. No one can seem to wrap their minds around what they’ve just witnessed.

A sudden boom of laughter from Stake F1 Team Kick Sauber garage shatters the tension. Lando glances over to see your grizzled race engineer doubled over, tears of mirth streaming down his face as he wheezes helplessly.

“That’s my girl!” He chortles, shaking his head in amazed delight. “Leave it to a Räikkönen to blow the entire fuckin’ field away and just shrug it off like it’s no big deal!”

Lando feels the corner of his own mouth twitch upwards, the pinpricks of embarrassment fading as quickly as they flared. Of course he wasn’t on your mind out there today — you’re a laser-focused competitor brimming with the same single-minded intensity as your father. No thoughts, just pure, unbridled velocity.

You don’t crave grandstanding or glory, you’re simply out there doing what you were born to do, with ruthless, unsentimental precision. No fuss, no frills. Just inevitable, undeniable greatness through sheer force of will.

For now, that’s more than enough to leave him feeling utterly, deliriously, irrevocably … wooed.

***

Lando flops back on the hotel bed with a contented sigh, still basking in the post-race glow. P3 on the podium is a stellar result, made even sweeter by the fact that you claimed second place.

He grins lazily as you emerge from the en-suite bathroom, having shed your team wear in favor of a comfy t-shirt and shorts. Even with your hair tied up in a messy bun and your face scrubbed free of makeup, you’re still the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on.

“There’s the champion,” he rumbles affectionately, reaching out to snag your wrist and tug you down onto the bed beside him. You allow yourself to be pulled into the circle of his arms with a quiet huff of amusement.

“I didn’t win, you dork,” you point out mildly, making no move to extract yourself from his embrace. “That was Max on the first step today, not me.”

“Mmm, true.” Lando hums his agreement, nuzzling against the crown of your head. “But you’ll get there again soon enough. Then we can really celebrate.”

He punctuates the promise with a languid kiss, smiling against your lips as you melt into him with a soft sigh of contentment. These tender, unguarded moments are rapidly becoming his favorite part of any race weekend.

You allow the liplock to linger for a few long, blissful seconds before finally pulling back with a faint smirk. “Speaking of celebrating ...”

Then, without any hesitation whatsoever, you deftly roll off the mattress and sink down onto your knees in one fluid motion, effectively pitching Lando’s heart rate into a gallop.

“Whoa, hey now,” he sputters out a nervous chuckle, propping himself up on his elbows to gawk down at you in surprise. “What are you doing down there, trouble?”

Rather than answering directly, you simply arch one eloquent brow and ask, “Are you wooed yet?”

Lando blinks, needing a second to parse your meaning. Then a bark of laughter escapes before he can stop it, finally realizing where this is going. “Oh my god, you cannot be serious right now. Are we really still doing that stupid bit?”

There’s no missing the impish glint in your eye as you regard him from your knees, clearly quite pleased with yourself for managing to get the upper hand. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer here.”

Lando shakes his head in amazed disbelief, unable to smother his grin. “Y/N, love, you have got to be the most impossible woman on the planet sometimes.” He reaches down to brush an errant lock of hair out of your eyes, cradling your face tenderly. “But lucky for you, it’s impossibly charming as hell.”

You lean into the caress ever so slightly, regarding him with an impish glint. “So? Do you feel wooed yet or not?”

Something warm and gooey blossoms in Lando’s chest as he studies your features — the amused quirk of your lips, the slight flush on your cheeks, the fire dancing in your eyes. You’re such an endearing contradiction, managing to be the most formidably stoic badass on the racetrack while also being irresistibly playful when it’s just the two of you.

“Y/N ...” he starts, a bemused chuckle rumbling from his lips. He presses a kiss to your forehead, relishing your quiet hum of approval. “You do realize you don’t have to keep trying to woo me anymore, right?”

You blink up at him, your brow furrowing slightly as you process his words. “What are you talking about?”

Lando nods towards the pillow behind him, gesturing vaguely. “The flowers. The race win. All the coy banter and teasing.” He grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed at this point, love.”

You continue to stare at him with a blank look, like he’s suddenly started speaking in tongues. The lack of comprehension on your face is so unguarded and genuine that it makes Lando’s grin slowly slip.

Hold on … could it be that you actually don’t realize-

“Hey,” he asks slowly, hardly daring to breathe. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but … I thought after the whole flower thing, we kind of … you know ...”

He trails off helplessly, not sure how to broach the subject in case he’s somehow misread everything completely. Your brow remains furrowed, making him abruptly hyper aware of the fact that your lithe form is literally kneeling at his feet while wearing very little clothing.

A pregnant pause stretches between you, thick with confused tension. Then-

“Oh my god,” you blurt out, your eyes going comically wide as the pieces finally click into place. “Did you think we were … dating? All this time?”

Lando chokes on his own tongue, too stunned to respond right away. He simply gapes at you, feeling like the world’s biggest moron for somehow operating under the wrong assumption for … how long, exactly?

Now that he’s thinking back, neither of you ever explicitly defined what was brewing between you two ... you just sort of started spending more and more time together, growing more and more intimately intertwined until … well ...

Suddenly he’s laughing, helpless peals of mirth bubbling up from his core as the truth dawns on him. All this time, you two have essentially been a couple of awkward teenagers muddling through the beginning stages of a relationship, the wires of communication getting hopelessly crossed along the way.

But oh man, of course it somehow ended up going down like this between you two. Why would he have expected anything less idiotically convoluted?

You’re chuckling too, the laughter rippling through your body in delightfully unreserved waves as you sway back on your heels. And just like that, the last lingering hint of tension dissolves from the air as you surrender to the hilarity of it all.

“So … I’m just gonna go ahead and take that as a no then,” Lando finally manages to gasp out between wheezing chuckles.

“Well that would depend,” you shoot back, your eyes bright with mischief. You shift forward onto your knees, leaning in close enough for him to feel the teasing rasp of your breath against his lips. “Because according to you, I’m already spoken for.”

Lando’s laughter cuts off with a soft groan as your nose brushes teasingly against his thigh, his palms finding their way to your hips as if by muscle memory. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” He accuses without any real heat.

“Nope,” you agree matter-of-factly before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

He loses himself in the velvet glide of your mouths for endless minutes, his fingertips tracing maddening patterns across the sliver of exposed skin at your waist. When you finally break apart, you’re both panting softly, gazes locked in a heated stalemate.

“So ...” Lando murmurs at last, his lips brushing deliciously against yours with every word. “If we haven’t actually been dating this whole time, then what would you call … this?” He sweeps one hand up in a languid caress, hinting at the incredible tangle you’ve both willingly stumbled into.

“Hmm ...” You press another series of featherlight kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, leaving him shivering. “How about … badly in need of remedial communication skills?”

Lando bursts out laughing again — because really, is there any more succinct way to sum up the two of you? He tugs you up onto his lap, cupping the back of your head and crushing your lips back to his in a heated clash of teeth and tongues.

You willingly arch against him with a throaty sigh, hands roaming possessively across his chest. The two of you are a whirlwind of tangled limbs and shared laughter and scorching friction.

It’s all so achingly, impossibly right that Lando can hardly stand it. But as you meet his heated gaze, chests heaving and eyes sparking with unspoken promises, Lando finds he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when the payoff is stealing heated moments like these, all tangled up in each other with boundless laughter and blazing passion.

“Y/N ...” he murmurs reverently, tracing the curve of your smiling lips with the pad of his thumb. “I adore you. You incredible, impossible woman.”

You lean into the caress with a soft hum, covering his hand with yours to hold him there. “So what now?” You arch a playful brow. “Are you officially wooed or do you need some more convincing?”

With a low growl, he abruptly flips you both over onto the mattress in one fluid movement. You let out a startled squeak quickly swallowed by his questing mouth as he settles between your parted thighs, pinning you to the sheets.

You arch up to meet him in a slick glide of fevered skin, clutching him close. Through it all, your soft laughter never ceases — bubbling up in breathless peals of delight that Lando hungrily drinks in.

Yeah, he’s pretty damn wooed all right. But from this moment forward, he’s going to spend every second making damn sure you never have to ask again.

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 2 months ago

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Game On. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

LOLOL But imagine Touya fucking up into you bare for the first time...

Oh, you can't!? Well let me do it for you...

He finally has you naked in his bed like he's been dreaming about ever since you joined up with the League of Villains.

You'd knocked on his door and kissed him when he'd answered it - putting a fiery seal on 6 months of mutual pining and flirtation. You'd been so desperate for each other that he'd pulled you into his arms and kicked the door closed behind you. His lips were everywhere - your mouth, your cheeks, your pulse point. He'd unbuttoned your shirt and shed you of your clothes in record time. There was no time to be embarrassed about your nakedness - not when there's so much of Touya you still need to explore.

You pull at his hair, bite at his lips, run your hands down his toned, stapled body...there wasn't time to grab a condom, not when you need each other this badly. You were already so wet and desperate for him, he pressed his thick cock into you so easily. Touya slid into you smoothly like a knife into room temperature butter.

And so now here you are, riding him. Bouncing up and down on his cock like there's no tomorrow, like you won't need to have a serious conversation about what you mean to each other after this is all done.

Nope - no thinking. No planning ahead. Just you riding his emo fucking dick and cooing at him as he throws his head back and lets out the sluttiest little sounds you've ever heard.

His piercings and staples glint in the low light and his large hands move to grip at your hips, his touch almost bruising in intensity. His cock twitches and bullies its way up into your tight pussy as he searches for your G-spot. You gasp when he finds it, and he grins wickedly up at you when he feels you reflexively squeeze around him. He focuses in on repeating the motion again and again. Your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts as he speeds up, grinding into you.

"You wanna cum, babe? You want me to fill up this tight fuckin' pussy?" He speeds up and brings a calloused thumb between the two of your bodies in order to rub at your clit. Heat pools in your lower belly and your cheeks heat up as you feel yourself at the verge of release. Touya grins up at you, wicked white teeth glimmering as he fucks you, enjoying himself.

"Don't worry about cumming too early, sweetheart. I bet I can get at least 3 orgasms out of you tonight." He flashes you a smile of bright white teeth as his cock twitches deep inside of you.

And at his inspired dirty talk, you fall over the edge and into oblivion, creaming on the cock of one of the most wanted villains in Japan. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you feel your pussy clench tightly around his dick, pulsing and fluttering in time with the pleasure of your orgasm.

Touya's icy blue eyes bore into your own. As he watches you cum, something in him falters and his eyes grow a fraction wider. It takes you a moment before you register what's going on - your orgasm is milking pleasure out of Touya's cock and the goddamn idiot is also cumming. His dick twitches once, twice, three times as he cums deep inside of you, fucking his ejaculate deeper and deeper into your tiny cunt.

Reading his body language you realize - his orgasm had taken you both by surprise. The goddamn idiot had thought he could holdout longer. But now here he is, filling you up to the brim with his thick baby batter.

"Fuuuuck!" He groans out, eyes fluttering shut as his hips work overtime to draw out his release. "Fuckin' hell." You feel his thick, hot ropes of cum filling you up and making the tail end of your own orgasm even more intense.

You groan as you both finish, crying out his name in such a pretty way that he doesn’t know what to do. His hands grab anything they can find – your hips, your breasts, your neck. He feels so good and he craves closeness – he’d climb into your goddamn skin if he could.

When you both come down from that heaven-sent high, you fall onto his chest and nuzzle into his neck. You're absolutely spent.

“Wow.” Is all you can say as you feel him gently pull out of you, cool air hitting your pussy as cum and arousal gush onto the sheets. He shifts you into a more comfortable position and you shiver as the sweat on your body cools in the AC.

“I’ll last longer next time.” He says, softness creeping into his voice. He sounds...embarrassed? You smile, savoring the rare spark of vulnerability. All sense of angry bravado has been abandoned now that he’s fucked out and breathless.

“You’d better.” You try to challenge him, but you’re too tired and too boneless to hold up your end of banter. “Hold me?”

He wraps his arms around you, strong biceps flexing against your bare skin. You feel the hard metal of staples scratch lightly across your skin as you curve into him. You shift your gaze up to his beautiful face, his mouth quirked into an unsteady smile.

His ice blue eyes search your face as he croaks out: “So…are we actually doing this?”

“Doing what?” You ask shakily, afraid of what his answer might be.

“You know damn well ‘what.’” He scowls, but his expression is softer than usual as he squeezes you to him. You can feel his heartbeat pulsing where your chests lay flush against each other. “I want you too badly. I want you to be mine.”

“Like…in a hookup-fuck-buddy kinda way? Or in an intense, deep devotion relationshipy way?” You ask, suppressing a giggle as Touya scowls at you with those endless icy eyes of his.

“Don’t make me say it.” He says gruffly, rolling his eyes as he looks past your face to stare hard into the cracking ceiling. “The latter. I need you all to myself. Idiot.”

“Touya, you’re so goddamn mushy I can’t stand it.” You say sarcastically, bringing up a hand to trace his sharp jawline. He fuckin leans into the touch. He’s so whipped for you, you practically glow with the realization. “So does that make me your girlfriend?” You tease.

He huffs, throwing you off of him and onto your back. You hit the plush mattress and sink in a bit, surprised at his sudden roughness. Seconds later he’s on top of you, kissing down your neck and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and sucking at the skin there. A bright hickey blooms quickly under his mouth and he smiles at it, content.

“If calling you my girlfriend gives me unrestricted access to this gorgeous fuckin’ body…then, yeah. I’ll let you be my girlfriend, sweetheart.” He whispers harshly, his fingers coming down to rub against your abused clit. You gasp, still over stimulated from your orgasm.

“You’re such a shithead jerk, Touya.” You moan in discomfort as he slips a finger inside of you with a squelch, pushing his cum back inside of you.

“Yeah, but doll I’m you’re ‘shithead jerk’ now. No take backs.”

You can feel him already getting hard again against your thigh, and you spread your legs to give him better access to your pussy.

Oh you are gonna have fun with boyfriend Touya. You gasp as he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot deep inside your still-shaky cunt.

You grin wickedly up at his ceiling.

Game on.

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

Woohoo a rare little one shot ficlet! Hope you enjoyed!

XOXO, RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

🔥Link to My Master List 🔥

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nanamiscocksleeve · 1 month ago

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Reading While Cockwarming Them

Warnings: MDNI, PIV, general sex, teasing, some name calling and sadism in Geto's part. A/n: Found an old WIP that I half wrote then gave up on because I couldn't find the inspiration. I'm glad I got back into it because I almost feel like my JJK writing has become rusty nowadays, and I'm thrilled to find some ideas that might still feel new.

The book is open on the bed, right under your pretty, flushed face as you kneel on all fours, Satoru’s cock nestled comfortably in your slick pussy.

Your mouth is moving, and you see the little black characters on the page, but your speech is slurred and syrupy as you try to form intelligible sounds.

“The…he-he-ro…isn…ways…to…”

“What’s that baby?” Satoru taunts as he slides out of your drooling cunt, all patience and sweet smiles. He feels how your walls clench in protest as you try to keep him in, his tip almost out of your tight, wet, hole.

“Toru please…” you whine, knowing his enticing length was right there, but he was getting off on seeing you swallow your words. Determination that had been ample in hand at the beginning of this session had now gone flying out the window. You just had to insist that Satoru couldn’t fuck you dumb with his cock, denying his claims, and now you’re forced to swallow your pride as you realize you can’t focus on a damn thing. The letters all look like squiggles to you and your tongue refuses to cooperate, only allowing you to pant and babble nonsense.

“You’re the one that said you would read me a bedtime story.” He arches his hips away from you as he feels you lift your ass, hoping to slip him back in. “And so far I can’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m hoping this helps.”

You moan in frustration and try to focus your hazed mind on the print. “The hero isn’t always right. As told in the story we’re about to embark on-” Your breath hitches as Satoru glides back into your warmth as you started to read. The hot length of his cock spreads you apart so invitingly messing with your head.

“Oh don’t feel like you have to stop on my account sweetheart. Keep going. Just testing how deep I need to go before you start going dumb again.” Not very deep based on his observations. He’s barely halfway sheathed and your speech had already become halting and incorrigible. He slips out slightly and you clear your throat trying to not to sob and admit defeat.

“Our story takes place in a time of old and ooohhh…” The sensual groan leaves you unrestrained as he pushes further in.

“Hmm so about three fourths of the way,” Satoru muses, looking at how much of him was buried inside you. “Keep reading. Trying to fine tune this pussy. I was promised a bedtime story.”

He starts to thrust slowly, letting you feel each inch of him as he withdraws before sliding back in, never bottoming out and leaving you aching with the knowledge that you're only half full. You're not even trying to focus on the words now, just moaning and knowing you'll likely have to let him win if you wanted anything tonight.

“Satoru please…” You whine as he starts to drag his fingers along your moist slit, finding your bud and circling it expertly.

“Aw. No bedtime story for me tonight?” he asks mockingly as he draws out a moan from you. You shake your head and he grins triumphantly. “Next time then. We'll train your pussy to not disconnect from your brain.”

Kento can’t stand the thought of not having physical intimacy. Cockwarming was his way of reconnecting, of being able to touch you, feel your soft skin and the warmth of your body, even if he was too tired for sex.

The bed is so inviting, and your back rests against his chest as his cock pulses with life inside you. Warm sheets are wrapped around your bodies as you sit on his thighs with a book on your lap. Kento's chin rests on your shoulder as you read, his eyes tracking the words as the story flows from your lips, his breath tickling your neck. The atmosphere in the room is almost balmy as his hands massage yours, fingers molding to the spaces in between. Your pussy occasionally clenches around his velvety cock, enjoying the way he filled and stretched the space inside.

“Are you paying attention?” You tease and pat his cheek to draw his attention back to the story. His large hands had started to wander from yours and were flirting with your ribcage, cradling your breasts in his palms and squeezing enticingly. After a long day, the massage felt more relaxing than arousing and you indulge him for a moment before asking again. “Kento…the story.”

“I am paying attention darling. It looks like our protagonist accidentally discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.” He thumbs your nipples, which had already pebbled from the squeezing, through the sheets and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, biting your lip and letting out a hushed sigh. Your juices had steadily dripped from your core and were pooling at the base of his cock, leaving a ring of wetness on his hard shaft.

“Are you sleepy?” Kento’s lips ghost the shell of your ear and you mumble a tired yes. His chuckle resonates in your ear, deep and rich, and he takes the book away and places it on the nightstand. “It’s all right,” he reassures you as he starts to lay you both down on the bed. “We can find out what happens tomorrow.” He rearranges the sheets while you settle your head down comfortably on the pillow. Sleep overtakes you quickly but you can feel Kento pressing little kisses down your neck.

“Do you mind…?” He whispers, and your half-awake brain manages to slur a yes. You knew what he was asking, and you honestly didn’t mind. His snug cock thrusts ever so sweetly inside you as he tries not to rouse you too much from sleep, breathing steadily into your hair as he tries to orgasm.

The slick heat from being inside you for so long helps in his efforts, lazily stroking your inner walls at an unhurried pace. Your languid body barely stirs as he sets up a deliciously slow pace, quiet squelches issuing from your pussy as he rocks his hips against your ass. He bites his lip as he nears his climax, letting out a muffled groan as his hot cum is released into your warm canal.

“Darling…focus…” His clever fingers which were playing with your pulsing clit halt, and his cock, snug in your pussy, remains there, barely providing any friction. You whine and look at him pleadingly but he tuts at you, waving the little study booklet in front of your face. “Can you repeat what I was saying?”

Why had you agreed to let him help you study for the bar? Your lawyer boyfriend, so sinfully handsome and smart, was obviously worried about your progress. He accused you of getting too distracted, and the solution was to force you to study with nothing but distractions, hoping to improve your recall abilities.

What he hadn’t specified was that it would involve sitting on your bed with his cock stuffed in your pussy while you straddled him, repeating little vocabulary definitions and basic terms of law. Your poor, sloppy, pussy couldn’t stop dribbling, spilling all over him, as you tried to recall the words.

He smirks at your hazy expression, seeing your mind trying to gather itself back into a cohesive state. “Well?” he prompts you again. “Can you explain the concept of intent for this?”

“Ah…” your mind is fuzzy as your walls clench around his cock, still hard inside you. How long had he been doing this? “Mmm…intent…matters because…” Because why? Why did it matter? All that mattered was fucking. Fucking him, riding him, getting filled to the brim with his seed.

“Tsk. Oh honey. You're never going to pass the bar at this rate.” His hands firmly hook themselves underneath your fleshy thighs. “Now repeat after me.”

He begins to pick up your frame, easing you off his cock before loosening his hands and letting you fall back into his throbbing erection with force, your ass cheeks slapping his thighs as you slide down all the way to his base.

"It. matters. because. The. Mental. state. Of. a. client. Affects. Our. Ability. To. Prove their. Innocence.”

Each word is punctuated with his hands picking you up and letting you slide, the sound of your ass pounding back into his lap echoing through the room. Each time, the bulbous, mushroom head of his cock kisses your cervix and you swear you're seeing stars each time. You sob each time, your cunt squelching as it takes him all the way in, desperate for an orgasm that wasn't likely to happen.

“Hiro… Please… Need to cum… study later…”

“You'll never improve if you can't study through the distractions.” His eyes are hooded and dark, barely able to restrain himself from wanting to fuck your brains out until you're spilling all over his thighs. Oh the sight of you, struggling to remember basic words, thoughts too occupied with his cock to remember even the most basic concepts relating to your job.

“Tell ya what. I'll give you a scenario. If you can explain intent based on that I'll give you an orgasm. How's that?”

You look at him hopefully, still shivering from the intensity of his last movements, and nod.

“Explain the intent behind a young woman who invites her boyfriend over to help her study for the bar but decides to answer the door in just her underwear.”

Oh the bastard. Feeling your patience snap you admit your motive.

“Clearly she wanted to get fucked nice and good but her boyfriend is a naive moron who really thought she wanted to go over flashcards.”

“You’ve got the flash part down spectacularly darling.” Hiromi fondles your nipples and you whine, your cunt clenching around him like a vice.

“Hiro please…”

“I suppose I could count that as an acceptable answer. Nice work.” He spanks your ass in appreciation. “Admission of guilt always helps. Now show me how you plan to alleviate it.”

Your boyfriend was mean. You hadn’t really noticed it until just now. He was more of the type to tease you than anything else. Until you had suggested reading to him while sitting on his cock.

For some reason, you had assumed he was going to be sweet about it. You hadn’t anticipated how hard he would make this for you. Your lips tremble and you’re a quivering mess as you hold up the book with shaky hands. Tears streak your cheeks as you try again, feeling Suguru’s thumb relentlessly playing with your clit, depriving you of just enough stimulation to keep you focused.

“T-t-t-the for-forest i-is the…” You wet your lips trying to concentrate. “The fas-test way to the…hi-hi-hidden-”

“Too slow.” You squeal as Geto spanks your already swollen clit, the sting bringing back clarity to your senses. “I thought you were better than this. Are you so fucked out on my cock that you’re taking an hour to read a sentence?” The harsh slap of his hand on your wet folds makes them pulse and you squirm, and you close your legs to avoid the reprimand.

“Tsk. You really are a dumb whore right now.” A cry leaves your lips as he harshly pinches your nipple, twisting it cruelly. “Who told you to close your legs? You seemed pretty confident when spreading them open for me earlier.” Sniffing, you reluctantly part your legs and then let out a noise of discomfort as he slaps the little bud again.

“Suguru…” you whimper pathetically only to have him roughly rub your clit again.

“Suguru.” He mimics in a high-pitched mocking tone. “What, you thought I would sit here all night while you take your sweet time? You haven’t even finished a page yet. Your cunt is going to be as empty as your brain if you don’t get it together.”

You whine and try again. “The solder…wanted to raid the amry… to get a sard- OUCH!” Suguru gave you a truly hard whack that sent you reeling, a confusing haze of pain and pleasure running through your body like an electric shock.

“What was that? Are you sure that’s even a word?” Slap. “Solder?” Slap. “Amry?” Slap. “Sard?” Slap. “The words are soldier, armory, and sword you stupid slut.” Each spank to your clit is punctuated with a yelp of pain from you.

“Suguru! I’m sorry please-!”

He pulls the book from your grip and tosses it aside. “This is why little whores shouldn’t try to brag about talents they don’t possess. Now why don’t you showcase the only real skill you have and cum on my cock like the desperate little cocksleeve you know you are?”

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna

@theimmortalbuns @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh

@marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

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madamechrissy · 1 month ago

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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, crazy sexual tension, lots of cussing, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, the hospital is lowkey slutty lol. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 7.5k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Comment to get added to the tag list ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part One =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Two ♡

“Doctor, you should call it. The time of death.” Comes Miwa’s voice, soft and sweet, as you’re pumping your hands tirelessly over this woman’s chest.

The woman had a damn baby right in the hospital nursery, having had a placental abruption, they had gotten the baby out in time on the maternity ward, but then she lost too much blood, and they’d brought her here. You've pumped countless times, your elbows are locked, your arms are aching, there are tears sticking to your cheeks that you don’t know where they came from.

You’re counting, one, two, three… to thirty, then scowl up at the nurse assistant now. “She’s not dead yet, now do the breaths!”

The assistant squeezes the blue bottle, frowning at you in concern. “It’s been three minutes, the patient is likely gone.”

“Don’t tell me to just give up on her. I won’t. Charge em up.” You turn and say to Miwa now, and she sighs. “I said…” You’re pumping so hard you feel her ribcage just barely crack, but you can’t stop, she’s flat lined and she has a damn baby. “I said charge them. Thirty joules! C’mon, Yula…”

The patient’s name was Yula, her name was Yula.

You keep repeating it to yourself as you work over her, hopelessly staring at the screen, praying to see a blip, to see anything. You’ve already had to call time of death for patients, but something in this got you, in knowing that the baby wouldn’t even know her own mother. In knowing that she got here just in time to save her baby, only to fall unconscious.

You’re nearing four minutes, you realize with a panic, and you notice Miwa has not charged the paddles. “Doctor, you should-”

“Are you telling your doctor what to do?” You demand, breathless, and she pouts then, thin brows drawing together.

“If she says charge them, fucking charge them. Thirty joules, now.” Comes Doctor Gojo’s voice, deep and stern, as he steps into the room, glaring over at Miwa, who now suddenly decides that she will charge the paddles. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t compressing over and over on Yula, exhaustion already setting in.

“Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You manage, trembling with your effort, and he gently pushes you out of the way, you shake out your numb arms.

“You get the paddles, intern, okay. How long?” He asks.

“Almost four minutes, Gojo, she's crazy!” Miwa says. Your jaw clenches.

“Did I ask you anything?” He demands then, and the room goes silent, Gojo looks right at you, seriously, when you get the paddles and then he moves his hands, as you shock Yula’s chest now.

A blip.

“Please, please…” You whisper, choking up, and then the blip dies off. “She just had two blood transfusions, we need to-”

“Doctor, she’s been at it too long.” Miwa says. “She’s going to have no brain function if we go one more minute.”

“So we give her one more minute!” You shout at her, you never shout, you never break this composure you try to have, but you’re exhausted, weak, thank god Gojo’s pumping over her, his strong arms working faster than even you could.

“Hey, intern, look at me.” You look at Gojo then, at his pretty face as he’s working over her, his white hair falling over his forehead, he nods at the paddles. “Just breathe, yeah? Charge them to forty five.”

“Yes, Sir.” You manage, taking a breath, then you open your eyes, and look at the screen one more time, taking the defibrillator paddles, and shocking her chest, her entire body jolts. The room is dead silent, then you hear it, a heartbeat, a pulse on that machine, a steady beep… beep… beep…

You start sobbing in relief, uncaring what anyone thought at that moment. Doctor Gojo checks for signs of brain activity, rubbing her throat then, feeling her pulse. He grins at you, brightening that room with those glinting white teeth. He gestures for you to come over now, as Yula barely opens her eyes, gasping for breath then, leaning up on her elbows.

“What… where’s my baby?” She whispers, her lips are blue, but she’s talking, cognizant, aware. You feel chills through your body, goosebumps you rub gingerly with sore arms.

The first thing she asks, her baby. She’s gonna be a damn good mom, and she gets to be a mom. You push back thoughts of your own mom, taking a breath to finally speak.

“Your baby is nice and healthy, she’s strong. Like her mom.” You say softly, holding her hand delicately in your own, the nurses are unhooking her from the plugs in the wall, wrapping tubes and wires now, so that they can take her to get checked on Doctor Gojo’s orders.

“Oh thank goodness, oh…” She’s blinking tears now, and she looks to Doctor Gojo, who is smiling softly at her.

“She saved your life.” Gojo says, and you shake your head.

“He did, truly.”

“Well, a little, but mostly her.” He nudges you a bit playfully, and she’s smiling, holding her hands out to both of you.

“Thank you both so, so much. Thank you.” The nurses who all were not listening are quiet now, but you don’t blame them, many of them have done this for years, and you were new.

But something feels so good knowing she is okay, that she will live to see her baby, a fucking rush knowing you saved her, that Doctor Gojo had helped you, despite you going against certain protocol. You look up at him now, and his lips part as he studies you, seriously.

“We will get you to some tests, then you can hold your baby. How’s that sound, Miss Yula?” Satoru says, turning his attention to her, and she nods, grinning so big. She’s pale, she looks weak, but she’s strong and she’s alive.

“Thank you both so much. I can’t wait to meet my baby! Was it a…” Your heart pounds now, realizing she didn’t even see the baby yet.

“It’s a boy. You will see him very soon.” They wheel her away, Miwa is about to leave when Gojo pauses her.

“You will not do that again, I don’t care if she’s new, she is your doctor. Do you understand?” He asks, he’s quiet, so no one hears, and she is blinking back tears now, lip trembling.

“You’re being mean to me.” You try not to scoff, acting like you can’t hear a thing she says, Satoru doesn’t hide his scoff.

“Mean? It’s lives we’re talking about, not personal things.” He says, dropping his voice even quieter, as you work on putting in orders for medicines for Yula, you pretend you don’t hear, but something in you is curious.

“She’s insane.”

Ouch.

“She’s my best intern, and I like insane.” You can’t lie about how elated you are when you hear him. Doctor Gojo might come off as silly, or goofy, but he was the best, and the praise meant so much, even if insane may not be a compliment, from him it seemed like one. “How many times have I pulled a stunt like that?”

“You’re Doctor Gojo.”

“She went through the same schooling, she earned her place here. I am disappointed. I’ll have to assign you elsewhere if you keep on with it, you’ve repeatedly not listened to her. Understood?”

She looks at you, then looks down, nodding. “I get it, fine… but, can I see you later?” Her voice drops another octave, just a breath really.

“I’m busy today, but just know I’m not mad at you, okay? Just you need to trust her judgment, I only brought the best here.” He has his hands on her shoulders gently, she nods, then walks by you.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just seen… a lot of situations where that doesn’t work.” She says, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, I am kind of batshit crazy to keep going so long. I think I really… because of the baby…”

“I understand. I’ll trust you next time.” She whispers, giving you a little hug now, surprising you. “You saved her.”

“Thank you, Miwa.” You give her a little smile as she leaves, and it’s just you and Satoru now, as the heavy hospital door slams shut. Satoru has his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, leaning against the counter of the hospital room, looking at you. “I know, I know… I was reckless.”

“Completely reckless, and honestly she’s right. You’re insane.” He says, you flush then, looking down.

“Is this going to fuck up my chance to scrub in? I’m so sorry-”

“Why did you go so hard?” He’s suddenly right in front of you, the pounding of adrenaline racing through your body makes you overheated, lightheaded, to the point you feel a little dizzy.

“She just had that baby, Satoru. Fuck… Gojo. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, it’s fallen out of its bun. “You want me to fix your hair?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I asked if you wanted me to.” You nod then, turning, and Satoru is taking your hair out of your bun now, gathering it gently. “So you wanted to try insane shit because she had a baby?”

“Yes. Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“You just gave four hundred compressions, you should be a mess. Now, is it just because you love babies so much?” He asks, long fingers massaging your scalp, you can’t help but shut your eyes. It feels so good.

“I do love babies, but no. My mother died having me, from the same thing, placental abruption. I was in the NICU for a long, long time. My dad had to care for me alone, poor guy had no clue what to do. I snapped, honestly, it wasn’t professional in any way, Gojo.”

He’s quiet, as he fixes your hair back up, now his big, sure hands are massaging your sore arms, you exhale, tilting your neck side to side. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I never knew her. All I have are stories, I never even got held in her arms, just like Yula’s baby would have been.” Your voice is hoarse, your body is tired, you feel his gentle touch and crave more of it.

“You call your patients their names, not ‘patient’.”

“Yes. They have names, we should use them. Don’t you?”

“I do. But… you know that you are letting your emotions guide you, rather than your brain.”

“I’m so sorry-”

“I like that.”

“What now!?” You turn to look at him in shock, and he’s very serious, more serious than you’re used to seeing him. Even in surgery, his confidence carried over, and he could crack jokes as you would watch him through the glass. You were always amazed by that, the confidence, the skill, the ability to laugh even.

“I like that you said fuck protocol and tried your best to save someone, shit that’s why I’m as good at what I do as I am. I said fuck all these rules. Sometimes saving someone means trusting your gut.” He’s tilting your chin up, and for some insane moment you want to kiss him, is it the adrenaline, is it his praise, is it your heart racing so much you’re stupid?

You eye his plush lips, barely registering his words.

“You like that I’m too emotional? Isn’t that the opposite of what I’m supposed to be as a doctor?” You whisper, and he shakes his head then, leaning close.

“You’re unique, special. I find you intriguing actually, and exactly what I want in an intern. I’ll have to cover for your ass though with Yaga.”

“Ugh, I know.” You sigh now. “You’re about to take over as chief of surgery, aren’t you? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”

“Nah, no worries there, I have been getting away with shit for eight years. I’m the best so they do whatever the fuck I want to keep me.” He smirks, and you smile up at him, enjoying the close proximity far too much. “You owe me.”

“Anything! Oh, nothing pervy.”

His lips quirk up. “How dare you assume.”

��Well, Miwa is probably upset, you may not get a bj.” He snorts then, dropping your chin and rolling his pretty blue eyes.

“She absolutely was in the wrong to question you, and she knows. As for… well we don’t have a relationship, I don’t really date.”

You raise a brow curiously. “You just fuck?”

“Lots of fucking.” You snort, shaking your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You should try it, you’re too stiff, you should loosen up.”

“Bet you- actually, you know what, no. I’m too happy to argue. Maybe I should go relieve some stress, shit.” Gojo laughs again, and you giggle now. “I’m losing my mind at this career.”

“That’s what good doctors do.” He taps your nose.

“Why do you do that?” You ask curiously.

“You’re cute when it scrunches up. Now, I want you to go out to eat with me sometime, that’s all I ask.” You sigh, tilting your head.

“Why, you’re Dr. Hojo, you can have anyone go out to eat with you, and do much more than I would, I’m sure.”

“Maybe I just wanna know what makes you tick, intern. Especially now that I saw you in action like that.” You nervously bite your lip, as you think of just being around him outside of this hospital, what would that even be like?

“Sure, we can go out to eat some time. Are you going to the party tomorrow?” You ask, and he nods.

“I’ll be there to make it fun. Now, you go put in your notes, I’ll go mitigate this with Yaga before it blows up.” He gently rubs your shoulder, walking past you now towards the door.

“Doctor Gojo?” He turns then. “Thank you, so much.”

Satoru smiles at you, nodding his head a bit. “You’re welcome intern, you owe me though, I’ll be annoying you about it.”

“Can’t wait.” You tease, he chuckles as he walks by, you nearly collapse, so overwhelmed, plopping down into the rolling chair and covering your face.

You saved someone. That eclipses it all, this is what you wanted to do, always, to save people, like your mom that day. No, not everyone is going to get saved, but if you can just do your fucking best, you feel good. You look at your watch, only one hour left of this insane day.

The night of the party

You’re rushing to get out of the hospital, to hurry and get to the party Maki, Yuta and Toge have started without you. You brought party clothes with you, so you quickly change into the outfit, a slinky little red dress that glitters even under the icky fluorescent lights above. You run over to the mirror, slathering on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.

You then dig through your bag, retrieving a brush, running it through your hair and attempting to look human, to look…

“Damn, intern, you look hot.” Gojo’s voice comes behind you, you gasp, jerking and dropping the brush, it clatters to the floor. He smirks at you.

“You scared me, shit!” He bends down, grabbing your brush, and for a moment his breath hits your bare thighs, you tremble as he looks up at your bare legs, taking his time to stand.

“Nice stems.” He says, you roll your eyes, snatching up the brush.

“Oh hush.” You turn, running it through your hair once more, peering at Gojo’s reflection, feeling how small you are compared to him in that mirror. “You bringing Miwa to the party?”

“She’ll be there I’m sure, but I told you, we aren’t dating. One blow job doesn’t make a girlfriend.”

“Only one, hmm? You have more stones to collect.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, slinging your bag over your shoulder, far too close to him. “God, you always smell good.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” You panic, shoving past him, and he is grinning far too big now, taking off his white lab coat, revealing those strong muscles, veins popping out under the pale skin, and since when are veins attractive!?

Everything about him is.

Be immune to the charm.

“I wanna show you something before you go, can you wait just a second? Or so eager to get to the party?” He asks, going to his locker, sliding off his shirt, your throat goes dry, you look quickly away.

“Just eager to make sure they don’t destroy my house.”

“Are you giving me a tour of your room?”

“No infinity stones to be found here.” He snorts, you look back and see him in his boxers, looking away again.

“All right, I’m decent. You’re cute when you blush.”

“I’m just… overheated.”

“Uh huh.” You look to see him now, as he shuts his locker and he’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, black slacks and boots, he runs a brush through his hair, you’re entranced as his silky strands slide through so effortlessly. “There, all done, how do I look?”

“You look good, Gojo. You always do though.”

“Sure do.” You can’t help but laugh, he’s ridiculous. He grabs his wallet, shoving it in his pocket, holding out a hand. You look at it. “Come on.”

“Oh, fine. It better be good I’m already running late.” You put your hand in his, and he drags you down several halls, until you’re both in an elevator, still holding hands, you pull yours away, glaring at him. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Gojo.”

“Ouch, you wound me, mean little intern.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I’m so offended, I didn’t say that to you!”

“You fuck whoever, and that’s cool, I get it. You’re hot, and this job is stressful as shit.”

“You think I’m hot, hmm?” He leans close, far too close, you glare at him again, pushing on his chest, ignoring how good his muscles feel under your palms.

“You know you are.”

“Yeah, I do. And of course I wanna fuck you, look at you. But I also just want to… get to know you.” He cups your face, and your eyes shut for just a moment. “I know you’re a goodie goodie.”

“Am not.”

“So you’re freaky?”

“You won’t find out.”

“Oh no?”

“Nope.” He leans closer, and your chin tilts up, lips just a breath from him, so close you taste his sweet breath.

“Then why do you look like you wanna kiss me so bad, intern?” He murmurs, you lean even closer, before the elevator stops, and you step back, struggling to compose yourself, turning away. “Aw, you okay?”

“Fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”

He laughs once more. “Come on, I’ll stop teasing.”

“You’re such an ass.” You huff, stomping out, then pausing when you realize where you are. “The maternity ward?”

He smiles, hand now gently holding your inner arm, you ignore how good his hand feels on your bare skin. “I think you should see something.”

Soon he’s led you to a room, then you see them.

Yula holding her little baby.

“Oh my god.” You smile up at him, he studies you carefully, nodding over to where they’re sitting in the hospital bed.

“Go say hi, you deserve it.” His hand is at the small of your back, as you walk inside the room, Gojo stays at the doorway, watching you. Yula lights up when she sees you, grinning so big.

“You downplayed what you did, everyone is calling you a miracle worker, Doctor.” She says to you, you shake your head, stopping in front of them, looking at the beautiful baby boy, his cherubic little cheeks hollowing as he sucks on a bright blue binkie, then you look back at Yula.

“It was nothing, just my job.”

“No, it wasn’t nothing. If not for you… I…” She blinks back tears now, and you barely hold in your own.

“Don’t upset yourself, please. You have been through a lot, mama.”

“You should hold him!” Yula says.

“Me? I…”

“Here.” She sits up carefully, and you pick up the little boy, Yula smiles at Gojo and waves him in. “His name is Gojo.”

“What?” Gojo blinks a bit himself, coming to stand beside you and looking down at him, Gojo carefully brushes the baby’s cheek, his hands bigger than the little baby almost. You smile up at him, and for a moment, your eyes lock, then you both flush, looking away. “After me?”

“Yes, you were amazing. I’d have named it after you if it was a girl!”

“Oh, goodness. He is handsome, huh Gojo?” You coo to the baby, Gojo’s hand again comes to the small of your back, he is leaning over your shoulder, looking down at the bundle in your arms.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing you did a good thing here.” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod then, smiling back at him.

“Thank you for this, Gojo. And thank you, Yula.”

“Thank you both, you're getting Christmas gifts from me.” You both laugh softly, saying your goodbyes, and when the elevator closes again, you let the little tears fall. Satoru swipes at them, and you sigh.

“Fuck it.” You yank him down by his shirt, kissing his lips, expecting it to feel nice, or good… but instead, it’s electrifying, as if little shocks are radiating throughout your entire body. Satoru exhales, deepening the kiss, pressing you against the wall, hands at your waist, peering back to look down at you, to take a breath.

“Fuck…” He murmurs softly, brushing your cheek with his long fingers, running a thumb over your lower lip. “What did I do to earn something that sweet?”

“You did a lot for me. Thank you.” He kisses your lips again, but now his tongue slips in, and you feel desire pooling in your core, especially when his hands are trailing up your sides, and his tongue is dancing with yours. You pull back, gasping. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t fucking apologize. Please.” He kisses you deeper now, and you lose yourself for that moment, his teeth on your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around his neck as he bends low. Your hands entwine in that silky hair, the hair you have wondered how good would feel under your fingers, his thigh coming between your thighs. “Oh my god…”

“Mmm.” You whine out, pathetic, hips arching up, and you feel him, his hard thigh, those hands overtaking you, tasting him, a hand enwrapping in your hair.

“You’re so hot there…” He murmurs, a hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, and you are questioning everything, until the elevator dings, and you both pull away quickly, but Satoru looks completely affected, eyes dilated, his breaths heavy as they come out, mirroring you.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah you should have.”

“No… but thank you. Really.” You touch his shoulder gently. “I will not be an infinity stone.”

“Think you’d be the whole gauntlet.”

“Oh whatever. Forget that, please.”

“No way.”

You both are walking out to your cars then, you’re fucking insane, you kissed Satoru Gojo, your boss! You kissed him. He’s walking you to your car now, opening your door, and you can barely meet his pretty eyes, so embarrassed. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“You were feeling something, emotions, gratitude… attraction.” He practically says the word like a caress, you feel it physically. “More probably. What’s wrong with feeling things?” He asks then, and you sigh.

“Feeling things for someone who you can’t be with, that sounds like torture.”

“Is it all that?”

“Yes. You should… forget it.”

“I’m not forgetting it. I’ll see you there?” You nod, shy as fuck now, surprised at yourself, touching your lips when you shut the car door, his kiss is lingering on your lips, like some drug you crave.

You gasp when he’s still standing there, grinning at you through your window. You roll it down, scowling. “Go on!”

“You were thinking about it.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“Was not!”

“Mmm, naughty intern-”

You rev up your loud ass car. “Can’t hear you!” He’s grinning far too big when you drive off, heart pounding.

You kissed your boss, and now you’re going to a party with him?

You have lost your mind?

“Bitch, you look so hot.” Maki runs over to you, shoving a questionable red solo cup in your hands, making you wince.

“Bad memories. You look hot too!” You kiss her cheek now, as there are people all over your house, dancing, laughing, most of whom you have no clue who they are. Some loud bass music is blaring, and it’s giving you a bit of a headache, but the energy is good, and you can see your roommates enjoying themselves.

Yuta is taking shots with Toge, you both walk over as Maki takes a sip from her own cup, her eyes sparkling. “Drink it!”

“Oh fine.” You take a sip, feeling the sweet, fruity drink. At first it’s fine, but then you can feel the burn of the alcohol. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, yeah, chug it bitch.”

“No!”

“Then take shots, pretty.” Yuta says, and you giggle, shaking your head. “What, you look pretty? Both of you do.”

“Pretty.” Toge says, blush on his cheeks when you kiss one, then Yuta’s.

“Aww thank you all.” Toge runs off then, leaving you confused, staring at Yuta and Maki who are whispering to each other. “What’d I do!?”

“He’s got it bad.” Maki says, seriously.

“What? No.”

“He does, poor guy. No chance.” Yuta says, you sigh.

“You all are silly, he does not. I would know, I live with him. He’s just a little… shy sometimes.”

“Exactly. You’re so evil to men.” You stick your tongue out at Yuta.

“Whatever! Am not.” You sip your drink, it starts tasting less biting as the alcohol warms your tummy.

“You’re mean as shit to Gojo. He’s got puppy dog eyes for you.” Maki says, as Satoru now walks in, Suguru right next to him.

“He has eyes for everyone.” You flush then, remembering the elevator vividly, as Satoru’s eyes catch yours across the room. “He’s my boss. Our boss.”

“The entire hospital is fucking.” Maki says, earning your look at her and Yuta, your eyes narrowing, assessing how close they are. “Not us!”

“Oh, you two so are. Since when!?” They both flush and look away, you cross your arms now, leaning forward. “In my house, terrible children.”

“Fuck off, you’re not our mom.” Maki sticks her tongue out.

“How long!”

“Like two weeks, chill.” Yuta clears his throat.

“I see something… over there.” Is all he says, then he leaves, and you scooch closer to Maki now.

“I tell you something, you tell me.”

You lean close, looking back at Satoru, Miwa is bouncing over to him, but for some reason he keeps looking at you, eyes shouldn’t be so intense you see them across the whole living room and dining room!? You have a pretty big house, but it seems small with this many people, overheating the area.

“Fine, we’ve had sex a lot, but only for a couple weeks, we’re not labeling it anything.”

“Oh…” You struggle to understand how your best friends are… hooking up. It doesn’t surprise you completely, though. “Not dating?”

Maki rolls her green eyes. “It doesn’t always have to be a relationship, you’re so old school.”

“Am not. I just… have a five date rule or so.”

“Bet Doctor Hojo breaks it.”

“Maki!”

“Time for your secret, and a shot.” She pours you both tequila, you shiver as you remember college with Maki, the amount of nights you’d both held each other’s hair as you got sick. “Don’t wuss out, you’re the hero doctor now.”

“Am not at all. Fine, bottoms up.” You both take shots down your throat, biting on your lemons now. “Blegh.”

“Baby.”

“I won’t tell you then!” You hiss, and she yanks you to her.

“You will!”

“Oh fine. I kissed him, there I said it.” You whisper, looking around fervently, as if someone can hear you whisper over booming music, Maki barely hears you, but she sees your gaze darts to Satoru, and his gaze hits you.

“Oh fuck… that’s so messy, you gonna hit it?” You shush her as he starts to walk toward you all, luckily he keeps getting stopped, everyone loves Doctor Gojo and him and Doctor Geto are getting swarmed by nurses and interns.

“No, no… it was a kiss. Maki he was so great to me yesterday, I think I really like him, but I can’t.”

“You can, just gotta be careful babes.”

“No, he’s… Maki he’s a slut.”

“Rude.” Sartoru says then, and you nearly spit out your drink, coughing then, Maki’s grin is huge, she pushes her glasses up, eyeing Gojo then.

“Hey Dr. Hunk.”

“It’s Dr. Hojo.” You glare at her, and Satoru slings an arm around your shoulders, lanky limbs overtaking you.

“She’s mean as hell, your bestie.” He says to Maki.

“She is, that's why I love her. Hmm, you should have shots with us!”

“Sounds good-”

“What, no!”

“Why? Scared I’ll out drink you?” He asks.”

“You absolutely could, I suck at drinking.”

“Even better, loosen you up-”

“Shots!” Maki hands you both shot glasses now, and you both down them, Satoru then bites a lemon and it’s far too sexy how he does, you feel your tummy clench just watching him suck one. “Hmm, I see… something over there.”

Maki dips now, leaving you alone with Satoru, and you don’t even know what to say, so nervous next to him. You keep looking at his lips, then down, and he surely notices, as they curl into a smirk. “You gonna give me the tour, pretty?”

“Pretty, thought I was just ‘intern’ to you.”

“You’re pretty, very pretty, little intern.” Satoru bars you against the counter now, and your hips shift side to side. “Aw, excited?”

“Shush. People can see!”

“Everyone’s fucking in this hospital.”

“No kidding.” You pout as you look at Yuta and Maki. “Some right in my own damn house.”

“You’re like an angry mom.”

“Hey!” You shove at him now, and then you see him sip a drink, watch that adam’s apple bob, and fuck…

Gojo’s gorgeous, and you haven’t had any in forever.

Usually you’re good, a nice smut story and a vibrator, but he does something to you, that makes you forget who you are, where you are. You still ease out of his trap now, sighing and shaking your head. “Not here.”

“Oh, not here? Are you planning on seducing me, intern?”

“Psh, you wish. I mean… we can talk somewhere else.”

“Talk, huh. That’s what the twenty somethings call it.”

“You’re so ridiculous, ugh… I mean… talk. Will Miwa get mad?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes.

“You really seem to think a blow job equals dating.”

“Yeah, well she’s already not a fan of me.” You take his hand now, walking him down the hall, where there are indeed people making out, including Miwa. You blink a bit then, and Satoru leans in close.

“Told you. The hospital is slutty.”

“Not me.”

“You’re so different.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh softly though, continuing through the hall, pointing at a room now. “Down there is the basement, where I hide my bodies.”

“Called it, serial killers have those steady hands.” You stick your tongue out, enjoying holding his hand far too much, he seems just as enamored as you, following you through each hall.

“There is Maki’s room, Yuta’s is there, and Toge’s is across from mine.”

“He’s in love with you, you know that yeah?”

“Why do people think that? He’s just a sweetie. And this… well this was my parents room, I just leave it be.” You murmur then, taking another sip of your drink, and Gojo frowns now.

“Can I see it?”

“Um… it’s all covered in sheets since forever, dusty and abandoned unfortunately so… nothing to see.”

“Curious if you look like your mom or dad.”

“Are you?” He nods a bit, and you bite your lip, shaking your head. “I can show you a picture of them, I have one in my room.”

“Dad’s gone too?” He asks, and you sigh, nodding, walking into your room, feeling the intimacy suddenly of such an action. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. My grandparents raised me. They’re good, they just moved out to Florida, retired.”

“You’re alone here?”

“No, I have my friends. Here, this was them.” You show him a little picture then, it’s frayed at the edges, of your mom and dad holding each other at prom. “They were really young here.”

“She was beautiful, you do look like her.” You get misty eyed at that, touching the picture, before shaking your head.

“Fuck you’re supposed to be here for fun, not me crying. What’s with me today?” Satoru turns you to him then, after you put the picture down, and you exhale, desire killing you, it’s like something is pulling you to him.

“Nothing is wrong with feeling things. I didn’t come here for a party, I came here to get to know you.”

“Why do you want to? Maybe I’m boring.”

“I doubt all that. So you tell me, intern, what do you want to do? Talk, look at pictures, give me a blow job?”

“As if!” He laughs then, and you realize it then... “You’re cheering me up, aren’t you Gojo?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You do that. A lot.”

“I’m glad.”

“You also annoy me.” Satoru’s pressing your back against your dresser, and you’re all too aware how hard his body is, how he’s muddling your mind. “What you wanna like… just fuck as friends or something?”

“I didn’t say that. You assume. Maybe I want to kiss you all night.” Your head falls back, Satoru is kissing you again, this time you let yourself go, feeling every bit of him, the kiss is more messy, more desperate than the elevator. Your teeth are nipping at his lower lip, earning a soft moan, as he grips your hips tightly, thumbs pressing into your pelvis.

“Mnh, we shouldn’t…”

“We shouldn’t. But… you’re really ready.”

“Ugh.” You’re a blushing mess now. “It’s been a while and… you’re really hot and…”

He chuckles. “You’re adorable. Let me make you cum, then, hmm?”

“Wh-what now?” You gasp when he’s picking you up, hoisting you on the dresser, spreading your thighs. “Gojo…”

“Satoru.”

“Doctor Hojo.”

He smirks, hands trailing up your thighs, your head falls back just so, hair cascading down your back, sighing at how good it feels. “You’re a brat.”

“You’re the bratty one. What do you mean just… get me off.”

“Stress relief. Why not let me help? I am a doctor.” You blush furiously, and he smiles. “Cute.”

“I’m not your patient…”

“Roleplay.”

“You kinky little- ah!” Satoru slides his hand between your thighs, cupping you where your panties are, and he pauses, mouth open slightly, snowy lashes lowering over dark blue eyes in the dim room.

“You’re that wet from kissing?” He whispers, you shut your eyes, taking his hand, with every intention of pulling it off, but you just keep it there, around his strong wrist, feeling his pulse flutter under your thumb.

“I don’t do this.”

“I’ll just finger you.”

“You gonna get me off with your fingers?” His smirk is now a wicked grin, his fingers slipping under your panties, finding you slick and hot. He exhales.

“I know anatomy extremely well. And no, it doesn’t have to change things, I can still be professional.” He slips a finger inside your pussy now, you’re clenching around him, moaning, covering your mouth then. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Pro-profes… you!? Not… mmm… fuck it, yes, there!” You’re arching your hips up, he is watching your every move intensely, analyzing you like you’re a medical case for him to solve, every breath you take, every movement of your hips, the way your brows draw together. He’s crooking his finger just so, and you see stars, gushing all around his long finger that’s too fucking deep.

“There’s that spot.” He leans close, sliding two fingers inside now, your pussy greedily sucks it up, your hands clinging to his expensive dress shirt, his lips just an inch away. “It’s not on any anatomy, is it, this spot? But yours is easy to find, pretty, right there.” He hits it again, and you’re getting closer and closer, whining out, pulling him closer.

“Mpfh.” You can’t manage a syllable, it’s too good, the stretch, his nearness, you crave him so bad you can’t think.

“Want me to make you cum?” He asks, sultry voice as much of a caress as his soppy fingers.

You nod eagerly, then he kisses you, pulling your hips down, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting the spot over and over. “Satoru…”

“Fuck that sounds good from your mouth.” He kisses down your neck, before whispering in your ear. “So this is a place on the human anatomy, your clitoris. There it is, it’s a tiny little thing.”

“Fuck!” You’re clinging to him desperate, pathetic, as his other hand reaches down, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes lock then, his pupils are so big there’s just a ring of blue, his eyes almost look black, his cheeks flushed.

“When I use both, it can overstimulate you, can’t it?” You mindlessly nod, tears in your eyes as he’s working you. “Hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm…” You’re done with words, his long fingers are too good, and you can hear how wet you are in your room, the squishing sound as he pumps inside your little walls, and you’re soaking his hands.

“I feel it, there, your pussy is tightening up, your nipples are rock hard, you’re biting that lip. You’re about to cum for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs, studying you still, and then you shatter, earning his moan along with your cries, as you feel your orgasm hit so hard you can’t see, just clinging to his dress shirt wordlessly. “Fuck you’re pretty, look at you.”

“Satoru!” You barely manage to focus, when he’s rubbing your pussy up and down between your lips, you jerk you’re so sensitive, you damn near could come again. “Fuck, fuck…”

“Sensitive?” You weakly nod, and now he is sliding his two fingers inside his mouth, sucking, and your jaw drops, breasts heaving. “You’re so yummy.”

“I am?” You whisper, he nods, and takes his other hand that was on your clit, rubbing your own arousal on your lower lip.

“Taste yourself and see.”

You lick your lower lip tentatively, pussy still pulsing around nothing, then he growls, grabbing you, kissing you over and over. You’re a fucking mess, so weak now, you want to say fuck it, suck him, touch him, do anything to make him feel good, you want him inside you.

Your legs are wrapping around his narrow hips now, hands shaking when you’re unbuttoning his shirt, fuck you’re so ready you can’t even remember anything you said you would or wouldn’t do.

“Want you.” You whisper weakly, he exhales, big hands cupping your face.

“Yeah?” You nod again, and he’s kissing down your throat now, pulling you flush against him, your throbbing cunt right against where you feel him, his hard cock under his pants, you weakly grind, mind fuzzy from him. “You feel so good, shit I thought you didn’t-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Shit…” You hop up now, adjusting yourself, looking in the mirror to see your fucked out, dilated eyes, all glittery, your cheeks flushed, your hair a mess from his hands. “I look like I got fucked, dammit.”

“You didn’t yet, imagine how you’d look when I got done with you.” He’s kissing down your neck now, images flying in your mind, as the door keeps knocking, then you hear Maki’s words.

“Someone passed out! We need you, please!” Maki’s words are like cold water, you and Satoru both rush out without a second thought. “Fuck… I’m sorry-”

“No, what’s wrong?” You and Gojo ask at the same time, she looks between you both for a moment.

“It’s embarrassing…” She admits.

“What is?” You ask, as she leads you to Yuta’s room, confusing you further.

“I may have been riding him and…”

Yuta is passed out, half naked on the bed. “Maki, did you kill him with your pussy!?”

“No! Maybe.”

Satoru chuckles, going up to him then, and peeking at his neck. “Did you all get freaky?”

“No!”

“Maki.” You glare at her, shutting the door now. She flushes, tilting her head back and sighing.

“I choked him, he likes it!”

“I think he’s just zonked from it. He’s responding fine. Hmm…” He says your name then, the man that just had you cumming on his fingers…

Fuck…

“Grab some ice.” You run down stairs, come right back up with a cup of ice, handing it to Satoru confusedly. “Watch and learn, interns.”

Satoru now throws the entire cup of ice on Yuta’s face, and he sputters, waking up and gasping. Satoru’s evilly chuckling, Maki is damn near in tears, and you’re watching with ongoing confusion, alcohol setting in, post bliss orgasm, thrown off that you just found Satoru throwing ice attractive.

“Thank you, shit!” Maki hugs Gojo tightly, as Yuta flushes, looking around at the three of you.

“Maki! I was fine.”

“You scared me!” She’s kissing him then, deeply, and Satoru and you gently walk back, you close their door with a quiet click, sighing and looking up at him.

“What made you think to do that?”

“I’ve had freaky sex.” He teases. “I’m kidding, I just saw the marks from her fingers on his throat, put two and two together.”

“You’re like Sherlock Holmes.” He shrugs then, and his phone starts buzzing, he frowns as he looks at it. “What’s wrong?”

“I gotta head out, nothing big.” He leans close, and you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows under your eyes.

“Then good night, and be safe?” You say, he nods, running a finger over your swollen lower lip then. “Satoru…”

“You still owe me a date, I’m no hussy. Can’t have that and not go out with me.” You feel far too good now, as he’s asking you out.

“But we shouldn’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have been insane yesterday, but it worked. Be a little crazy, just… a date.” You nod then, and he leans his forehead on yours. “Also, your anatomy? Perfect.”

Your pulse thrums in your neck, chest tightening as he says it. “No, certainly not perfect…”

“Mmm, it is, and I would know. An expert on female anatomy.”

“Well thank you, slutty doctor.” He snorts, pecking a kiss on your lips, one that you would never be able to get out of your head.

“I expect a better tour sometime.”

“Keep dreaming. But… lunch, I agreed.”

“Sunday work?”

“Yeah.”

“Text you then.” Satoru leaves then, and leaves you leaning on the hall, suddenly the door opens, and Maki and Yuta peek their heads out.

“A date!?”

“You should be passed out, freaky asses.” You shove them back in their room, running off to yours as they try to bombard you with questions, you lay on your back, staring up at your ceiling, the glow sticker stars from your childhood still decorating the ceiling, you never did take them off.

You like him, you really like him. But you need your career, it’s just beginning, and would this just fuck it all up? Could you keep this shit separated? You can’t do this, you can’t…

Your eyes shut, flitting images of Doctor Gojo enjoying your anatomy filling your mind, keeping you up half the damn night, as you hear it get quieter, assuming the party has died off. You lay on your side, looking out at the window, seeing the moonlight shining through just so.

Your phone goes off, and it’s your stupid ex, earning your scowl, as you delete it, but then a new message pops up.

Doctor Gojo: Let me know if you need anatomy lessons again, intern.

You snort, shaking your head.

You: You wish!

Doctor Gojo: Hmm, still taste you.

You: Oh my god, good night Doctor Hojo!!!

You hate that your heart hammers in your chest as he hearts your message.

You’re so fucked.

Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt

Part Three

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dreamesamu · 5 months ago

Text

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario

warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading

author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.

truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.

here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library.

“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.

“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.

“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.

“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.

“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.

"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.

your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.

"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.

"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."

"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.

"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.

you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.

"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.

you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.

but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.

"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.

"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.

you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.

and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.

"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.

"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.

you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.

the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.

on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.

"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"

excuse me?

"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.

but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.

maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...

---

"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.

"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.

"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.

"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.

your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.

then he fumbles. something is missing...

oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.

"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"

you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.

"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"

lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.

"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"

there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.

so his question remained unanswered.

akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.

he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.

and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.

you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.

but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.

"please. can we talk?" he pleads.

---

you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.

"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."

your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?

akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.

"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.

you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.

"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."

"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."

he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.

"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."

---

"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."

akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.

"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.

"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"

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