#jaw doctor near me

[humansofnewyork]

“My first end-of-life patient was a 97-year-old man. He had a much younger girlfriend; she was seventy-four. But they loved each other so much. Back when their spouses were still alive, the four of them had been great friends. They would double date together. And when their spouses passed away, the two of them became a thing. Every day she would come over for lunch. I’d always cook a little meal for them. I’d prepare the table; I’d lay out my little candles and my little flowers. As soon as she arrived I’d put on music and dim the lights, then I’d leave the room and go wait in the bedroom. They would cuddle and snuggle. And the beauty of it was, even though he couldn’t control his fluids at that point, she never minded the smell. Her love for him was so great that they would still kiss and all that good stuff. When the doctors said that it was time for him to go to hospice, he said he didn’t want to go. He told them that he wanted to come back home and die with me. I was with him in the end. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. One week after his passing I was hired by his girlfriend’s family. She had terminal Alzheimer’s, and I ended up staying with her for seven years. I fell in love with her. We were family, just family. She used to be a tap dancer. We’d sing together. And if she didn’t feel like singing, I’d sing. Even near the end, she always knew when something was wrong with me. When I wasn’t being the Gabby that she knew, she would always know. When the doctors said it was time for her to go to hospice, her children said: ‘We want her to die with Gabby.’ In the final days she wouldn’t eat, she’d lock her jaw. But she would always eat for me. One night I could see the fright in her eyes, and I knew it was time. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. So I climbed under the covers with her. And she passed away in my arms.”

[babygorewhore]

Home Care

Dr. Charlie Mayhew x fem reader.

Charlie Mayhew has to stay over to make sure his patient stays safe. But he’s unable to contain his desire after learning how men have treated you.

This is written for my love @cxrrodedcoffin I hope you enjoy my darling!!! Thank you so much to @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me out with this love letter!!!!

Warnings! Obsessive behavior! Slight stalking! Oral! Fem receiving! Finger sucking! Bondage! Spitting! Fingering! Spanking! Degrading! Praise! Unprotected sex! Bulge! Rough (?) sex! Incorrect medical terms because I’m not in that field lol.

“I’m not thrilled about being stuck here with you either.” Charlie told you as you examined your nails.

The Doctor leaned against the wall as he watched you. He was giving your sick grandfather overnight care. He admitted to himself that he used to be an asshole in high school. Making fun of you for going into the family inherited business. A mortician.

Charlie just wanted your attention. He always wanted your eyes on him. That’s why he posted pictures of himself at the gym despite his filled schedule. Being a Doctor gave him the opportunity to save lives. Yet, he couldn’t save himself from his obsession with you.

Your apartment had elements of the Macabre and pieces of the world you honored with work. But you still had a brightness to your smile. It wasn’t innocence, you’d had some experience in the dating world.

You always took care of others. A little angel sent above. You didn’t fully forgive him for the past and he didn’t blame you. He worried he’d scare you off if you saw the darkness in him.

Charlie sometimes followed you home. Just because he had to make sure you were safe. Coming into your bedroom while you slept was taking it a bit far a few weeks ago but he just had to see you. Charlie tried to act as if he didn’t know where anything was when he came in.

Your thighs were exposed, the pajama shorts hugging the curves of your hips and the soft shirt exposed the lower part of your stomach. Charlie swallowed, moistening his dry mouth and neared you. He removed his uniform coat. So he’d look like a normal man.

Your fingers tapped away at your screen, indicating that you were texting someone. Angrily.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned. He half expected you to ignore him but instead you sighed.

“I’m sick of this guy. He treats me like shit. I’m telling him off.”

Charlie’s hackles raised at your answer. “How’s he treating you like shit?”

“Guys only care about getting off and leaving. I put up with it too long. But I was lonely.” You rolled your eyes and he blinked rapidly.

“You mean, he just…fucked you and left?” Charlie bit out the sentence, unable to hide the jealousy and you shrugged. “Did he even make you cum?”

His bold words made you sit up straight but he didn’t take them back. You snorted and set your phone down. You crossed your ankles together.

“Nope. Men just want to stick it in and get theirs.”

Charlie’s jaw clenched and he trembled. He adjusted the stethoscope hanging on his neck. “No. Men don’t. Little boys do.”

You rolled your eyes and applied chapstick. You moved your lips and set it back down. “What would you know about that? If you weren’t in college, you were working. Or being a dick.”

“You think I don’t care about making a girl feel good?” He breathed heavily as you positioned yourself further in the chair. Your hands providing balance in the middle and your fingers spread.

“I mean you’re good at your job. But women? Not so much.” Your blatant disregard and ignorance to his activities made him feel crazy.

“You realize I have a in depth knowledge of the human body. I know where to touch. How much pressure to use and how long.” Charlie tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he reached down. Cupping your chin. His thumb swiped your mouth and you parted them.

You sucked his digit, tongue rolling around and he snapped. Charlie hauled you off the chair, tossing you on the plush mattress.

“All those fucking weeks watching you. Trying to keep myself under control,” He groaned as you parted your legs, letting him settle between them. He felt the dampness in your center on his stomach.

“You were stalking me?” You shrieked but a small smirk curved. Charlie snarled and tapped your cheek.

“Open your mouth.” You did, instinctively letting your tongue slightly stick out and he let drool fall past his lips. “God, you’re already obeying me? Like a good little patient?”

Charlie sat up, taking off his shirt and his muscular form highlighted by the LED lights. You looked up at him with half lidded eyes as he took your hand, bringing your fingers to his mouth. Charlie sucked them softly, letting his other palm knead your chest. You arched your back as your pussy fluttered.

His thighs caged you in and he let go of your hand. Your fingers fell out of his mouth and Charlie unfastened his belt. You inhaled sharply as he tied it around your wrists, pinning them to the headboard of the bed.

“You’re gonna lay there and take it. That sweet little cunt is gonna leak from how good this will feel.”

A sinister darkness flickered in his eyes as you mewled at his words. Charlie tugged off your shorts, thick digits snapping the waistband of your panties and he peeled them off. He admired the lace of the fabric and was mesmerized by the sticky middle.

You were so turned on that it hurt. Charlie shoved his pants down, chuckling at the eager sounds you made. His cock slapped his inner thigh. He lowered himself down, his stomach hitting the bed and cupped your ass.

He smelled your scent, his nose nudging your center and groaned. “Selfish little angel. Keeping this pussy from me. Knowing I won’t be able to get enough.”

Charlie laid his tongue flat against your slit, grunting at the taste and he focused kitten licking your clit. His motions were firm and you whimpered. His hold kept you from moving too much, even laying his forearm across your pelvis. He spread your folds apart, exposing more sensitive areas and plunged his tongue inside your needy hole.

You were on fire, jerking from pleasure and Charlie’s dick throbbed. His other hand drifted to find the discarded panties and wrapped them around his shaft. Lazily pumping because he was solely focused on the pretty girl underneath him.

He sucked your clit, gently nipping it and returned to leisurely slurping like an ice cream cone. The heels of your feet dug into his shoulders and he nodded. “Mmm, needed this didn’t you, baby doll? That why you’re so tense all the time?”

You shuddered as he pressed two fingers in you, hitting an even deeper spot and you were almost hysterical. Charlie wanted to make you cum right then and there but he forced himself to hold off for now. He continued finger fucking you and lifted up. Meeting your lips in a messy kiss, making you share the wetness coating his mouth and chin.

Charlie kissed you hard, making your vision go white and ripped himself away. He growled and took hold of his dick. His red tip running against your clit, smearing the arousal and a sadistic pleasure burned him. He loved seeing you whine and cry.

“You want it? Beg.”

“Please fuck me! Please, please, please!” You cried out and he clicked his tongue in ridicule.

“Oh come on, sweetheart. You can do better. That slutty mouth can beg harder than that.” Charlie laughed as you let out chants similar to a prayer.

He slammed into balls deep and you silently went slack for a few seconds. His size was huge and overwhelming despite the prep. You panted and shook your head.

“It’s not gonna fit all the way-“ You said tightly but Charlie jerked his jaw.

“We’re not playing that game. You wanna play dumb and pretend you don’t like how much it hurts? But I’ll fucking make it fit,” He flipped you over on your knees, twisting your arms so your still tied wrists weren’t straining.

Charlie shoved your chest down, slapping your ass so hard it echoed. He pressed into your pussy again, letting his big hands hold your hips as he thrusted into you.

You sounded fucking filthy. Moaning, sobbing and sweating against the pillow as he railed into you. You curled inwards as your orgasm approached you but he shook his head.

“Where you going?” Charlie spanked you harder and separated your ass. He thrusted deeper and felt your slick dripping on his cock.

“Oh god, fuck! F-fuck!” You exclaimed and wailed. He grabbed the back of your hair, yanking you back and caught your lips.

Charlie sucked your pulse point as you bounced on it, laying your head back as you creamed on his dick.

“Bouncing on my cock like the dirty whore you are. You gonna let me fill you up? You want me to cum in your greedy pussy?” He asked in your ear and you moved faster.

Charlie squeezed your tits and let his hand fall to your stomach. He felt the bulge and spilled inside you. Cum burst in your cunt and your second release hit you. You both grunted and you felt tears streaming down your face.

He saw you weren’t going to slow down and twitched from overstimulation. Charlie pulled out, feeling your fluids fall onto the sheets and brought his face back to your pussy.

“You’re gonna let me eat it out of you, huh? God you’re so disgusting.” He followed his statement with shoving his face against you. You had to bite down on your arm to keep from screaming but he wasn’t happy with that.

“No, no, you wanna scream? Then do it.” Charlie ordered. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you again?”

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @userchai @stillwjk-channie-lixie @fear-is-truth @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @oceanblvd111 @titsout4nicholas @webbluvrsugar @glossyseraphim

[shotmrmiller]

im thinking of you, who's a doctor that's been taken hostage by some bandits under the pretense of needing you for a house call for their elderly family member. they had paid for your services preemptively as well.

it's my ma, see. she's got a real bad cough and says her chest hurts somethin' fierce.

you clumsily hop on their horse and let them take you to where she supposedly is, except instead of a quaint, little home they take you to some delapilated wooden shack. before you even get to ask any sort of question, there's the barrel of a gun pressed firmly against your spine.

you heal the man inside, and if he dies, so do you.

this is the only time that you fully regret going to school for medicine, instead of marrying that sheltered rich man like how your father had originally wanted for you.

after searching your coat pockets for the money they had given you earlier, they harshly nudge you toward the roughly hewn wooden door that's barely hanging onto the frame by the hinges.

only to come face to face with a broken, bloody man. and what's worse is that you've seen him before on wanted posters. he's an infamous gunslinger, one so dangerous not even the police want him captured alive, simply dealt with. he's got a hefty $1000 bounty on his masked head. his name is said like a curse among lawmen and the general population alike and he's been evading the hand of justice for years, in and out of sight like a phantom. ghost.

he sat tied to a chair, coarse rope so tight around his body you could see it biting into his bruised skin. blood ran in rivulets down his painfully obvious broken nose, his thin split lip swollen and raw. bruises bloomed on his dirt-streaked cheeks, blonde stubble stained crimson. his breath left him in ragged, wet gasps. your purpose here is clear.

their torture has done nothing to break the man in front of you, so they want you to keep him alive until he does.

his sunken, dark eyes follow your every move— as you shrug off your coat, roll up your sleeves, and reach into your medical briefcase for gloves.

your hands tremble with fear and urgency as they reach for the blood-soaked tattered remains of his shirt and pull it up to assess the damage.

"how unfortunate for you and for me that it doesn't seem like you were hit near anything vital." he remains silent and unresistant as you get to work; breath hitching and jaw clenching only when you dabbed a wet, clean rag on his open wounds. you can feel his gaze on your sweat-slick skin, unwavering.

god only knows how long you're to be kept here, captive, just like him.

(his gang comes to save him eventually, and because you were so useful simon tells price that you're a doctor, and a damn good one. "her talents could come to use in the future." price looks at you sparingly, hardened blue eyes resembling ice. he gives him the go-ahead, and now you're taken captive. again. and what's worse, simon simply hog-ties you and stows you in the back of his horse, like a hunter does the pelts of his game.)

[globalrebrand]

SPOILERS!!!

I will say that Capitano rotting is questionable imo lore-wise considering that Pierro is a literal khaenrian mage who looks mostly normal and is probably older, and that Dottore does what he does being a doctor and all, that literally no one was able to prevent the physical degradation of the strongest harbinger. But all of it did give me an idea a kind of reverse Eros and Psyche myth.

Now that we know Capitano is a decaying beneath his armor imagine that you are a prodigious healer, and whether the fatui has kidnapped you to help him, or a member the house of the hearth who Arlecchino offers to tend to him, you become his dedicated healer who he falls in love with. You tend to him daily and in your healing sessions you've managed to slow and even regenerate some of his cells. You talk endlessly with each other as you treat him, learning all about his past. You don't even flinch when he exposes parts of necrotic tissue. From the first session you smile at him as if he is any other man, not a rotting abomination. Still he refuses to show you his face, but he checks the incredibly slow progress of his regeneration daily, waiting for the day when he can reveal himself to you. It's silly he thinks, he has no fears, but the thought of your rejection terrifies him.

You have been his diligent nurse for years, and there has always been an attraction on your end, but Capitano keeps a boundary up when you try to become closer to him. Physically at least, emotionally he's shared all, and you are his most trusted confidant. He's become so comfortable with you that he'll even let you tend to him in his sleep.

However, as your love for Capitano grows you can't resist the urge to unmask him during one of your night sessions. You can't really figure out how to get the mask off so instead, you carefully bring a nearby candle close to his face to illuminate the near magic darkness that enshrouds his features.

The first thought was that it wasn't that bad. The skin on his face his is blackened with corruption, warping the muscle tissue. But the 'rot' that you had seen on his body was far more advanced in its decay when you had started treatment.

You admire the features that remain, unfazed by the molted and peeling flesh. You become so lost in seeing him, that you don't notice as a drip of wax falls onto his gaunt cheek bone.

Capitano startles awake. It takes him only a second to realize what you'd done, he bats the candle out of your hand now leaving the tent in total darkness.

"How could you!?" He growls, ashamed. He rises to his feet and in his clambering his mask falls off entirely.

Calmly, you place your hands on his chest, you feel his heart beating wildly under you palm while the other snakes up to his jaw. Wordlessly you rise on your toes and place a chaste his on his lips.

You can't see the confusion on his face, but you smile regardless. Only saying, "I've waited so long to do that."

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ 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

[tofiqbohra11]

https://speakerdeck.com/urbanphulkari06/maxillofacial-surgery-for-accident-recovery-what-you-need-to-know

[httpsdana]

heyyyyy, i love your work, please can you do where you’re pau cubarsi’s girlfriend and your a med student and take care of him after your injury xxxxx

Healing Touches~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

Pau laid on y/n's couch, his head resting on the armrest with a slight grimace, trying to act casual despite the fresh stitches along his jawline. The injury had happened during his last match, an unfortunate clash that had left him with ten stitches and y/n with a heart full of worry. He’d been patched up by the team doctors, but that didn’t stop her from fretting over him.

y/n sat beside him, brushing a careful hand along his uninjured cheek, studying the stitches with a concerned frown. “Does it hurt a lot, Pau?” she asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He gave her a lopsided smile, clearly trying to look unfazed. “cariño, it’s just a few stitches. Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied, attempting to shrug off her worry.

She shot him a gentle but stern look. “Pau, it’s ten stitches across your jaw. Don’t act like this is just a scratch,” she murmured, running her fingers lightly through his hair. “You need to rest, and I’ll make sure you do.”

Pau let out a small sigh, reaching up to take her hand in his. “I know you’re studying to be a doctor and all, but I’m pretty sure the team patched me up well enough,” he teased, giving her hand a light squeeze.

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Well, maybe they did, but I still want to take care of you. You got hurt, Pau, and that’s not something I’m just going to brush off.”

He shifted slightly, pulling her closer so she was leaning over him, a playful look glimmering in his eyes. “Fine, but only because you’re so cute when you’re in ‘doctor mode,’” he teased, his voice soft.

She rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a small smile. “Pau, I’m serious. Now, have you had any water? You need to stay hydrated for healing,” she scolded gently, reaching for the glass she'd brought him earlier.

He chuckled softly, the sound a little muffled by the stitches, and took the glass from her hand, making a show of drinking. “Happy?” he asked, giving her a little wink as he set the glass down.

“Not yet,” she replied, brushing her thumb lightly over the edge of his jaw, careful to avoid the stitches. “But we’ll get there.”

His hand reached up to cup hers, holding it against his cheek as he gazed up at her. “Thank you for taking care of me, amor. I know you’re busy with your studies and all…”

She shushed him softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss near the corner of his mouth. “You’re more important. Now, let me fuss over you, and stop trying to act like you don’t need it,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes despite his injury. “Guess I have no choice but to let my very cute, very smart med student girlfriend look after me,” he said, pulling her down into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

She relaxed into his embrace, careful to avoid his jaw but grateful to feel his warmth, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. It always amazed her how Pau could be so calm and lighthearted, even with stitches on his face. But she knew he was doing it mostly for her, to keep her from worrying too much.

Pau’s fingers traced gentle circles on her back, and he tilted his head slightly, looking at her with that same adoring expression. “You know, amor,” he started, a teasing tone slipping in, “if I knew getting hurt would get me this much attention from you, I’d have gotten injured ages ago.”

She pulled back slightly, playfully swatting his arm. “Pau Cubarsi, don’t you dare joke about that! You better not even think about getting hurt again. I was so worried when I saw you all bloody and in pain ” she scolded, but her voice softened as she met his gaze, the affection in his eyes making her heart flutter.

He chuckled, bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a feather-light kiss to your fingers. “I promise, I’m kidding,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her hand. “But I have to admit… I love this side of you, so caring and worried.”

“You make it sound like I’m never caring,” she replied, pouting slightly.

“No, no,” he laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “You’re always caring. But right now, it’s like you’re my personal nurse. I kind of like it.”

She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Just let me take care of you, okay?” she whispered, feeling her voice soften. “I want you to be all healed and safe. now do you need me to get you something?”

Pau pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice tender. “I’m already feeling better just being with you, cariño, I don't need a thing” he murmured. “It’s like you’re my medicine.”

She felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“For you? Always,” he grinned, his hand moving to stroke her cheek. “Now, doctor, what’s my next treatment? I think it might involve lots of cuddles.”

y/n rolled her eyes, laughing as she pulled him close again. “Fine, but only because you need it.” she shifted carefully, lying beside him on the couch so he could rest his head on her shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

“See? This is the best medicine,” he murmured, his lips pressing light kisses along her collarbone.

y/n giggled, feeling his warm breath against her skin. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around,” she reminded him, trying to keep a serious tone but failing as she felt herself melt into his embrace.

“Then just let me hold you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’ve done enough, cariño. I’m okay now, really.”

She let out a sigh, relaxing in his arms, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her fingertips. “I love you, Pau,” she whispered, voice barely audible.

He tilted his head, his eyes meeting hers with a soft, heartfelt gaze. “I love you too, amor. And thank you… for always being here. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

His words made her heart swell, and she reached up to cup his face, bringing him close enough for a gentle, lingering kiss. His lips were soft against hers, the familiar warmth filling her with a comforting peace.

When she finally pulled back, Pau’s eyes were still closed, a content smile playing on his lips. “Now, that’s what I call the perfect remedy,” he murmured, his voice a sleepy whisper.

y/n chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Then get some rest, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

He opened one eye, giving her a playful smirk. “Only if you stay here with me, nurse.”

“Fine,” she whispered, settling into his arms and pressing one last kiss to his forehead.

She stayed close, feeling his breathing slow as he drifted into sleep, holding her tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

[billybutcherrtrash]

Dress

I suppose it’s my destiny to write about inanimate objects. First a chair, now a dress.

CW: sexy times. MDNI. (18+)

As usual, I didn’t proofread it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

You and Spencer attend a wedding and your dress is quite a distraction.

You’d been Reid’s ride or die since day one. You’d both been young when you joined the BAU and instantly became the tamer version of Morgan and Garcia. You’d bonded over your mutual nerdy interests. The two of you watched Doctor Who and Star Wars. Your brilliance nearly matched his. He secretly loved when you challenged or questioned him during cases. He’d often call you when he needed to be talked off a ledge during a panic attack, even if it was 2:37 in the morning. It wasn’t unheard of for you two to room together when working a case. No one had ever batted an eyelash or gave it a second thought. Neither of you had really ever considered the other anything but a friend. Until of course the day you noticed him staring at you longer than he should have. The day you noticed the way he licked his lips when he was listening to you speak. The day you noticed how perfect his hands were. The day you realized you were day dreaming about his hands in places they definitely shouldn’t be. That’s when you knew you were doomed. You’d crossed a line in your head you thought you’d never cross. Now every time you were near him and he touched you in the most innocent of ways it was like a jolt to your system. The way he brushed his hand across your lower back when he passed you or when his hand grazed yours as he sat beside you on the jet. Thank God no one had noticed the way you would sneak glances at him when you knew no one was looking. You were doomed now. The risk of rejection or worse, he might actually feel the same. Only one way to find out…

Penelope had agreed to go dress shopping with you for a certain someone’s upcoming wedding. For whatever reason none of the dresses you owned seemed to meet the criteria you’d made up in your head. It was a wedding, of course they were nice enough but…not for what you had in mind.

“This one!” Penelope announced, holding up a floor length black dress.

“P, do you really think I’d look good in this?”

“Are you kidding? You’ll look stunning! Put it on!” Penelope said, ushering you into the dressing room.

You reluctantly slipped into it, unsure of how you felt about it. There was a slit running up the side that you hadn’t noticed before. It was a rather low cut for your usual taste but you couldn’t deny your breasts look great in it. You felt a bit exposed as you stepped out of the dressing room. Penelope’s jaw dropped.

“Yes! Yes! It’s perfect!” She clapped, “Oh, he’s not going to be able to keep his eye off you!”

“He?” You asked, confused.

“Babe, I have eyes. You and Reid have been playing googley eyes for months. And this, my dear, is a “fuck me” dress if I have ever seen one.”

“Wait what?” You froze.

“I’m not a profiler, but it doesn’t take a genius to see you two probably can’t share a hotel room platonically anymore.” She laughed. “And this dress will guarantee that.”

You couldn’t tell if you were mortified or relieved she’d noticed.

“You said he was making googly eyes…?”

“That man clings to every word you say. And if you don’t end up in his bed after wearing this, I don’t know what it will take.” Penelope said.

“Fine…this is the dress.” You agreed.

……

Reid was standing with Morgan when you arrived. Morgan nudged his arm, his head nodding in your direction. Reid turned and you could see his jaw drop. The look on his face didn’t get past Morgan.

“You gonna pick up your jaw off the floor, pretty boy?” He smirked.

Reid faltered to a moment before gaining his composure. He tried his best not to make it obvious that he was having a certain reaction to the dress.

“You look…” Morgan paused, nodding at you.

“Stunning.” Reid finished for him.

You blushed and smiled, “Thank you, boys. You both look handsome as ever.”

Reid couldn’t help but notice the heels you were wearing, making you several inches taller. He honestly couldn’t recall you ever wearing heels. Before he could comment, Penelope arrived to usher everyone to their seats.

“Alright, my darlings! It’s almost time! Let’s go!” She announced, grabbing your hand and leading you inside the chapel.

You found the rest of the team and settled into your seats. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you through out the ceremony. You’d casually glance at him, meeting his gaze. Penelope nudged you to bring your focus back to the nuptials in front of you. It was hard for Reid to concentrate when all he could think of was how you looked in that dress. Finally the ceremony ended and you made your way to the reception.

“He was staring the whole time.” Penelope smirked.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” You nodded, taking a glass of champagne.

“What’s your plan?”

“Plan? I don’t have a plan.” You shook your head.

“I doubt you’ll need one, but you need to talk to him. Drop subtle hints.”

“Was the dress not enough?”

“Oh, it definitely is. But can’t hurt to fuel the fire.”

“Ladies.” Morgan said, “I hate to interrupt, but I think it’s time for this lovey lady and I to dance.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Penelope smiled, taking his arm and leaving you alone.

You took a sip of your champagne as Reid approached. The butterflies had turned into pterodactyls now.

“Hi, Spence.” You said a little too shyly.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him. He could read you like a book…and just a quickly. After all these years he knew every tell you had. He could see you were avoiding direct eye contact, looking toward him but not directly at him.

“You look nice.” Reid smiled, “That dress fits you well.”

You let out a jagged breath, “Thank you, P picked it out.”

“She has good taste.” He licked his lips, his eyes dragging over you.

“She does. She also made me wear these heels”. You laughed softly.

“Well, they’re also very nice.” Reid said glancing down at them.

“They’re pretty but they are killing me”. You admitted.

You felt his hand on lower your back, causing you to look up at him. Your breathing increased as your eyes met his.

“You okay?” Reid asked.

“Yeah, why?” You nodded.

“You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“Oh, have I?”

“A little. It’s not like you.”

“It’s a wedding. Not much to talk about aside from how beautiful the bride is and how in love the happily couple are.”

“Or how good the cake is.” He laughed.

“Or how drunk the bridesmaids are getting over in the corner.” You gestured toward the scene to your left.

Spencer nodded, “They’re going to have a great night.”

You took another sip of your champagne, finally feeling your nerves settle. That didn’t change the fact you weren’t sure if you could actually go through with whatever it was you thought was going to happen.

After a few more drinks, guests started dissipating.

“I’ll walk you home.” Reid said.

“Walk? Not in these heels, Spence.” You shook your head.

“Okay, have a seat and I will take them off.”

You couldn’t help but smile, doing what he asked. Reid knelt before you and unbuckled the strap. His eyes wandered a little higher, following the slit of your dress up your leg. His hand ran over your calf gently as the other slipped your shoes from your feet. You gasped softly. God, he was going to make you crazy. Once both offending shoes were removed, you stood up.

“Omg, freedom.” You laughed.

You said your goodbyes and congratulations before making your exit. Once on the sidewalk, Spencer turned his back to you and gestured for you to jump.

“What?” You asked.

“Piggyback ride. C’mon.” He said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Jump, I can’t have you walking on these streets.”

“Reid, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m so serious. C’mon.”

Reluctantly, you jumped onto his back, arms around his shoulders, legs on his hips. You laughed softly at how ridiculous this way.

“It’s like 5 blocks, Spence.” You said.

“It’s fine. I promise.” He replied, beginning the trek.

“You’re being entirely too nice. I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do.”

The two of you made more small talk until you reached your building. He set you down on the stairs.

“Well…thank you for this…it’s been a nice night.” You said softly.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to. Five blocks is more than enough.”

“Don’t be silly.”

With that you put your key in the door to the building and made your way to your apartment.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked after opening the door.

“Yeah.” He nodded nonchalantly.

Your heart was in your throat now. It was definitely the right moment. But how were you going to pull this off? You turned to face him, prepared to just say it but he spoke first.

“Can I say something?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“If I’m being honest…that dress is going to be the death of me, Y/N.” He bit his lip.

“Oh…”

“I haven’t been able to focus on anything but you all night.” He stepped closer to you. “This dress is just…making it hard to believe I have an IQ of 187.”

“My turn to be honest…I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

And just like that, Spencer’s lips were on yours, his hands were in your hair and there was no going back. Your hands undid his tie and you tossed it aside. He pulled his suit jacket off and it fell to the floor. Next you went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning and adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothing. It took every ounce of sanity he had to pull away and take your hand leading you to your room. A room he’d slept in several times, but never had he considered doing this. He sat on the edge of the bed gazing up at you. For a moment you weren’t sure what to do. But there was only one thing to do. You reached for the single clasp that held your dress on and undid it. Spencer watched as it fell to the floor. He licked his lips and took in the sight of you. For all the years he known you, this was never something he thought he’d see. You thought you’d be embarrassed but the way he was looking at you only made you feel wanted and desired. Spencer took your hand and pulled you into his lap. You straddled his lap and were now inches away from him. He kissed you gently, more calmly than he had before.

“Spence, at some point… you’re gonna have to…take off your pants too.” You said between kisses.

“Someone’s impatient.” He replied.

“No, just seems…unfair.”

His lips moved to your neck, “You tortured me with that dress all night, that was unfair.”

You ran your hand through his hair, tugging gently. “Please?”

“Now you’re begging?” He smirked.

“Absolutely not. Just asking politely.”

He looked at you and sighed, “Fine. Lay down.”

You moved off his lap to the middle of your bed, leaning back on your pillows. Reid stood up and casually undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the carpet. You bit your lip as he climbed back in the bed and moved on top of you.

“You look like you might like what you see.” He smirked.

“Very much.” You nodded.

“Actually, one more thing.” He said getting back up.

“Spence!” You whined.

“We need a condom.”

“I don’t have any.” You replied.

“Don’t worry. One of us is responsible.” Spencer teased.

He grabbed his wallet from his pants and pulled out two condoms, setting them on the dresser next to the bed.

“Two?” You raised eyebrow. “Someone’s optimistic.”

He climbed back on the bed and hovered above you. “No, just prepared.”

You watched as his hand slid up your thighs, slowly slipping his fingers under your underwear and pulling them down. You didn’t say a word, realization setting in that this was happening. You barely noticed he’d taken off his and was reaching for the condoms. You swallowed as the butterflies returning to your stomach. You felt anxious as he slid back over you.

“You got quiet…you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah…just nervous.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“No, Spence, I want to. I really, really do.” You said. “More than anything.”

“Anything?” He laughed softly. “Wow, I’m honored you’re choosing me over anything else.”

He leaned in to kiss you, settling between your legs. It didn’t take long for things to become more heated, more desperate.

“Tell me when.” Reid murmured.

“Now.” was all you could say, needing him desperately.

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable. Promise me.” He said.

“I promise”. You nodded.

His lips crash into yours and you felt him push into you. You moaned into the kiss. God, it felt amazing the way he stretched your walls to accommodate him. Every second felt like forever as you waited for him to move again. You knew he was trying to be gentle but you needed him desperately.

“Spence, please, you’re not gonna break me.” You begged softly.

Whatever restraint he’d been holding back snapped and he thrust into you causing you to yelp. He was so deep and you only wanted it more. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking gently as you took every thrust.

“Just like that…fuck, Spence!” You panted.

He reached up and cubbed your breast, squeezing it gently.

“You feel fucking amazing.” He groaned against your neck.

“Don’t stop, please, please…”

“I’m not, I’ll get you there”. Spencer promised. “I got you.”

He kissed you again, more feverishly. Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging gently. Spencer hissed, his tongue running over your bottom lip. He reached down and pulled your leg up higher on his hip allowing him to sink deeper into you. Your headboard hit the wall above you with the force of his movements, causing you both to look up.

“It’s fine.” You said, biting your lip.

You could feel yourself getting close. That’s familiar ache was rising inside you.

“Close…”

Spencer’s eyes widened for moment at your words. He nodded and slid his hand for down your side and between you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he ran his fingers over your clit. He felt you fluttering around him as he worked you to your climax. Your legs were shaking when you finally reached it. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, only spurring him on to pick up his thrusts. Your nails raked down his back, riding out your high. It was only moments later his hips faltered and he came hard, burying his face against your neck as he collapsed over you. You lay quiet, trying to catch your breath, your fingers stroking his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head and kissed you gently.

“You okay?” You asked.

“I think so.“ Spencer answered, slipping out of you.

You quietly mourned the loss of him as he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. You heard the shower turn on, and him poke his head out.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He winked at you.

You didn’t need to be told twice, climbing out of bed and hurrying to join him.

[marysfics]

Breathing You In

Amid the sterile hospital environment, your girlfriend's tender embrace and soothing presence bring a profound sense of peace and closeness.

Fluff

The sterile scent of antiseptic burned your nose, the dull, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filling the silence of the hospital room. You stared at the ceiling, your mind fuzzy from the meds. The past few days had been a whirlwind of tests, doctors, and the overwhelming uncertainty of what came next. You’d lost track of time, though you knew it had been a while since you last saw the outside world.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

The tears that had pooled at the corners of your eyes threatened to fall, but you blinked them away, refusing to give in to the fear coiling tightly in your chest. You didn’t want to think about what was happening, about the diagnosis that lingered over you like a dark cloud. The reality of your condition hit hard, every day a reminder of how fragile life could be.

But today wasn’t about that. Today was about Alexia.

Your mind immediately softened as you thought of her — her strength, her determination, her unwavering love. She had been with you through it all, holding your hand when the doctors delivered news that shook you to your core. You remembered the quiet tears that slipped down her cheeks, how she had clutched your hand tightly, refusing to let go even when everything felt like it was falling apart.

The door creaked open, and there she was — Alexia, looking as breathtaking as ever. Her dark blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, her eyes, soft but determined, searched for yours as she stepped into the room. She was dressed casually, but there was something about the way she carried herself that made it impossible to look away. Her presence filled the space, making it feel less cold, less lonely.

“Hey, cariño,” she whispered, her voice gentle as she approached the bed.

You tried to smile, but it faltered. “Hey.”

Alexia sat beside you, her hand instantly finding yours. She intertwined your fingers, her thumb stroking softly over the back of your hand in soothing circles. Her touch was warm, grounding you in the moment when everything else felt uncertain.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,” she murmured, her brows furrowed in concern. “Training ran a little late.”

You shook your head, not wanting her to feel guilty. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

She tilted her head, her eyes searching yours. “I do,” she insisted, her voice steady but tender. “I want to be here. I want to be with you, always.”

A lump formed in your throat, the weight of her words hitting you hard. You had tried so hard to be strong for her, to not let her see how scared you really were. But Alexia saw through you, always did. And now, as she looked at you with such raw love and vulnerability, it was impossible to hide the cracks in your façade.

“I’m scared,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling as the words slipped out.

Alexia’s expression softened, her hand squeezing yours gently. “I know, mi amor. But we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Tears welled in your eyes, this time impossible to stop. “What if… what if we don’t?”

Alexia’s gaze hardened, her jaw tightening as she leaned closer. “We will,” she said, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re the strongest person I know. We’re going to fight this. And I’m not going anywhere, understand?”

Her conviction was undeniable, but it still felt like a weight sat on your chest, pressing down on your breath. The what-ifs, the unknowns—they gnawed at the edges of your mind, despite her reassurance.

“I’m tired,” you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

Alexia’s eyes softened, and she cupped your face with her free hand, her thumb brushing away the tears that fell. “I know, baby. I know,” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead against yours. “But you don’t have to do this alone. Let me carry some of the weight.”

Her breath was warm against your skin, the nearness of her making everything else fade away for a moment. You closed your eyes, breathing her in, letting the comfort of her presence wash over you. Her lips brushed against your temple, a gentle, tender kiss that made your heart flutter despite everything.

“Alexia…” you breathed, opening your eyes to find her so close, her gaze locked onto yours with such intensity it made your pulse quicken.

She kissed you softly, her lips capturing yours in a way that felt like she was pouring every ounce of love and reassurance into the touch. You sighed into the kiss, the softness of her lips against yours melting away some of the fear that had gripped you so tightly. Her hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, slow but deliberate, as if savoring every second.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours again, you felt lighter, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“I love you,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but sure.

Alexia smiled, that heart-stopping, gentle smile that always made everything feel just a little bit brighter. She shifted slightly, her body moving closer to yours as she climbed carefully onto the bed beside you. It was a tight fit, but neither of you cared. You nestled into her arms, your head resting against her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your ear.

Her hand stroked lazily up and down your arm, the warmth of her body wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, protected. You let out a slow breath, your body relaxing into her hold, the exhaustion that had weighed you down starting to ebb away.

Alexia’s fingers trailed down to your waist, her touch gentle but comforting. “I miss holding you like this,” she murmured softly, her voice warm and full of emotion.

You felt the heat of her body pressed close against yours, the simple contact filling you with a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days. “I miss it too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Her lips found your neck, not with urgency but with tenderness, brushing soft kisses along your skin. Each touch sent a wave of warmth through you, not overwhelming, just steady and soothing. You tilted your head slightly, allowing her more space, and let out a soft sigh as her hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, her fingers brushing over your bare skin—not to ignite passion, but to remind you she was there. Grounding you.

“Alexia…” you breathed, your heart beating steadily now, drawn to the calm and comfort of her presence.

She hummed in response, her lips brushing your jaw before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was slow, tender, as if she was pouring every bit of love into that simple touch. Her hand rested lightly on your side, her thumb moving in soothing circles, the rhythm lulling you into a sense of security.

You turned toward her, needing to be closer, to feel the safety of her arms wrapped around you. She responded instantly, her embrace tightening as she pulled you against her, the heat of her body melting into yours. The kiss softened, and soon it was just you, resting in the quiet comfort of being close to her.

The outside world faded, the worries and fears dimming, leaving only the feeling of Alexia holding you tight, her heartbeat steady against your chest. Her touch, her presence—so full of love—made everything feel bearable again.

When she pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you both took a breath together. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice raw but soft. “Always.”

You nodded, her words sinking deep into your heart, and for the first time in days, the weight in your chest eased. You believed her.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

more mad scientist ford?? he does stuff to us PLEASE

im not very proud of my writing and ideas, im sorry

tags: sexual themes, injection, syringe, experiment, slapping, fem reader

⚛︎ :•.🧪 mad scientist!Ford

You’re sitting on the edge of his lab table, your legs swinging slightly, fingers gripping the cold metal edge because of nervousness. The sterile, sharp smell of antiseptic and strange chemicals fills the air, while Ford is focused on a task, meticulously preparing his latest experiment.

You try to exude nonchalance, crossing your legs and shifting on the table, but your heart races beneath your calm facade. The moment he glances your way, it feels like being placed under a microscope, scrutinized and exposed in the most intimate way.

“Well, well, well,” Ford’s voice is low and smooth and he straightens, finally directing his full attention at you. His gloved hands adjust the mask covering his mouth and he lifts a syringe filled with a luminous green liquid that glows like toxic emeralds. The eerie glow of his lab lights casts sharp shadows over his face, making his expression look even more predatory. “why so scared, darling?" 

His voice, muffled slightly through the mask, sounds mocking, amused as he steps closer. “don’t tell me you’re worried about growing an extra finger?” he holds up one of his gloved hands, wiggling his six fingers with a smirk.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, to stay still despite the gleaming needle hovering dangerously near. “No, not scared,” you manage to whisper, your voice softer than you intended, laden with a mixture of fear and something close to excitement.

He tilts his head. “Oh? playing brave, are we?” his gloved hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing enough to keep you still.

“Hold still, darling,” he brings the syringe closer to your skin, hovering just above your arm. “It’ll only hurt if you move.”

“Doctor Pines, wait—” you breathe, panic creeping into your chest.

“Relax, sweetheart, you’ll be just fine. Just a little poke.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Your breath catches as the needle breaks the skin, sharp, immediate, sending a sting through you. You wince, lips parting as the burn of whatever he’s injected starts to settle in, spreading like a strange warmth under your skin.

“There you go, just like that,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your arm, lingering on your skin with a slow touch, as if rewarding you for your compliance. “such a good girl, holding still for me. . .”

You shiver, heat rushing through your veins and you don’t know if it’s from injection or the way his voice sounds, how he praises and calms you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this obedient,” Ford adds, his lips brushing perilously close to your ear. His gloved fingers caress your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his dark, satisfied gaze. “you’re being so brave, it’s making me want to reward you.”

You look at him with big eyes as his gaze drops to your lips, oh yes, his kiss would be the best reward. Please, please, kiss me, dr. Pines. You try to not move so much, but it’s impossible – your body reacts to him, every nerve tingling under his touch, you need him badly, need him to touch you, to kiss you.

The injection burns, a slow, simmering heat that radiates through your veins, sinking deep into your muscles. You bite your lip, stifling a gasp as the sensation settles, spreading warmth to places you didn’t expect.

Ford steps back, his expression shifting to one of cold concentration as he scribbles notes. “Interesting,” he murmurs, not even glancing up as he jots down observations. “Subject shows signs of heightened arousal after the introduction of the serum. Fascinating. . .” and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re just a part of his grand experiment while he continues muttering about “accelerated responses” and “stimulated neurochemistry”.

“Localized reaction along the bloodstream, increased dilation, elevated pulse,” he notes, clearly more engrossed in his findings than in your squirming.

Then, he closes his notebook and steps forward, positioning himself right between your legs.

You suck in a breath, heat pooling in your stomach and it’s like every nerve is suddenly alive under his fingertips. 

“Well?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “what are you feeling, sweetheart? any noticeable side effects?”

“I. . . I feel. . .” you trail off, your voice faltering as his hand slides up, resting on your lower back, pulling you forward, bringing your bodies even closer. “I feel hot, doctor Pines.” words slipping from your lips in a dazed, needy whisper. The embarrassment only making you more aware of how desperate you are under his hands.

His eyes spark with interest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand moves up, cupping your breast with a lazy grip, his thumb brushing over you in slow, teasing circles. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every little gasp, every shiver, the way you look at him with parted lips, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. And then he grips harder, digging his fingers in as he rolls your breast under his palm, testing your reactions with every squeeze.

You arch into his touch, a whimper spilling from your mouth and that only spurs him on.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Ford squeezes harder, rougher, his grip verging on painful, but it only fuels the heat building inside you, making you ache.

Then, without warning, his hand leaves your breast and a sudden, sharp slap lands across your cheek, startling you, the sting blooming hot and fast on your skin. However, that only makes you press your thighs together, desperate for more.

“Look at you, so responsive. This formula might be my best work yet!”

And that’s why, hours later, you stumble out of his lab with trembling legs, your mind hazy and his seed slowly dripping down your thighs.

[whenikissedthegiyuu]

Kinktober 2024

Raw Sex w/ Tsugikuni Yoriichi

word count 951

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, no protection, sex (p in v), using spit as lubrication, squirting, set in modern times, written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

You looked up into Yoriichi’s eyes as he caged you in, leaning on his forearms to cover your face with kisses. Soft laughter escaped you, your hands cupping his jaw.

He smiled at your happiness. He wanted nothing more than to be the reason for it for the rest of your lives.

He laid between your parted thighs, both of you completely naked as he took it upon himself to kiss every inch of your skin. He reached your lips again and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before sitting up to reach toward the bedside table. His long hair was loose, tickling your chest as he leaned over you.

You glanced at the open drawer where the condoms were stored. You hesitated for less than a second before reaching for his hand and plucking the packet from his fingers. “I was thinking…”

He smirked in acknowledgment, hiding the fact that he throbbed against your thigh at what you were implying when you took the condom.

“Since I started birth control, I was thinking if you wanted to skip…” Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze as you held the foil up between the two of you. “It’s been three weeks already. Doctor said I should be good after a week.”

You probably failed to hide how much you wanted to feel his cock inside you without any barriers, but Yoriichi didn’t seem to mind because he nearly ripped the condom from your grip and threw it back onto the nightstand. You pulled him down to kiss you again.

His lips moved against yours as he cupped your cheek, a mess of tongues and teeth as you both grew desperate to feel the other. Your hands reached between the two of you to guide him to your entrance, but he forced himself away from your lips and sat between your legs. He grabbed your thighs and pushed them back until they touched your chest, eyes focused on your cunt.

He opened his mouth and his tongue lolled out to let a drop of spit fall between you. He smeared it over your folds and used the lubrication to rub your clit. He grabbed your hands and placed them on the back of your thighs so you would hold yourself open for him.

He held the base of his dick with his other hand and pushed into you. Watching him with half lidded eyes, you let out a soft moan as you felt every single vein as he slid inside you. He choked out a moan, his hands returning to the underside of your thighs once he bottomed out. He squeezed gently when you clenched around him.

“Please, don’t do that.” He laughed, the sound coming out more breathy than he expected. You just felt so perfect, so hot and wet. “I’m trying to last more than a minute, love.”

You couldn’t help the way you clenched again, knowing he was just as affected as you. His head fell forward as he looked down between your joined bodies.

“Not doing it on purpose. Just feels so good.” You whispered, your walls tightening around him a third time when he pulled out almost completely and thrusted forward, burying himself completely in you.

He finally started thrusting into you, although at a slow pace, his eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. He looked up to meet your eyes, finding you already staring at him. He smiled at your sudden shyness as you turned your head to the side.

He fell forward, holding himself above you with one arm. His other hand went to grab your waist, his fingers digging into your skin.

“I’m balls deep inside you and you get embarrassed of being caught staring at me?” He murmured near your ear. He adored the way his voice made your legs twitch and your cunt tighten. He knew he could never go back to using a condom with you.

His hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing the curve of your breast. You met his maroon gaze again, but your eyes rolled back a moment later when he started thrusting harder, faster into you. His hips slammed against your thighs, his eyes lowering again to watch his dick disappearing inside you.

Yoriichi sat up again, pressing a hand to your stomach as he pounded into you. You gasped immediately as the tip of his cock abused the spongy spot inside you, mixed in with the press of his palm, it suddenly felt like too much and not enough. You felt light headed, eyes fluttering shut as you debated pushing him away or pulling him closer.

Your legs trembled as you felt yourself gushing around him. His thrusts didn’t falter for a moment, he watched with parted lips as your head fell back against the windows and your release squirted out of your pussy, coating his abdomen, your thighs, the bed. He pulled out just in time, fingers wrapping around his dick and stroking twice before his own cum spurted out onto your stomach.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He pressed his lips to your jaw, then he trailed kisses over your cheek. You hummed almost sleepily before he finally reached your lips, his tongue immediately darting out to lick your lip in search of yours. His cock stirred against your thigh, still half hard.

“You are insatiable.” You whined against his lips, parting them to let him lick into your mouth.

He pulled away only to catch his breath, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go. “It’s your fault for letting me fuck you raw.”

You gladly accepted the consequences.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 1: SOMEWHERE (FAR, FAR) EAST OF THE MOJAVE

synopsis: you wake up in some cabin, half-frozen to death. a man named arthur finds you and decides to have mercy on you, as do his associates.

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: if anyone wants me to start a taglist just lmk <3!! also there's a PROLOGUE before this, please read it before reading this :)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

It’s cold. Above everything else, it’s fucking cold. 

You screw your eyes shut tighter, curling in on yourself. You’re vaguely aware that you’re on your side and in a fetal position. 

There’s a light, faintly, somewhere behind you. You let out a hiss that tapers off into a groan and draw your arms over your head.

“Hey!” A voice shouts. It’s growly and abrasive-sounding. There’s the sound of a revolver’s hammer cocking. “Turn around. Face me.”

You prop your forearm on the floor and push yourself up with more effort than you think would be needed. You pant softly, and your breath mists in front of your mouth. You manage to hold yourself up with both hands on the floor and turn your head to look at the man. 

He’s tall in a way that makes him look down his nose at you. His silhouette is stark against the door – there’s snow outside. You don’t remember it to be… snowing. It’s May in southern California. It doesn’t snow in May in southern California.

The man looks you over, his revolver still pointed at you. His hand is unwavering.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t know why. “Is this your house?”

“No,” the man says simply. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m…” You look down at your hands, the way they’re braced against the floor. “I don’t know. I think…” 

Your arms shake, then collapse. Your jaw hits the floor with a dull thud, and your eyes screw shut on instinct.

“Shit,” the man drawls under his breath. 

“W-wait! Wait,” you say quickly. “I’m not on anything. I – I’m stone-cold sober. Like Steve Austin.”

You force a laugh and manage to open your eyes to look at the man. He looks confused – maybe a little disgusted? It’s hard to tell.

“Like, the wrestler?” You say. “Stone Cold Steve Austin?”

The man lowers his revolver, just a little, so that it’s not pointed at your head, but still in your general direction. It’s obvious he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, in any capacity. Maybe he won’t shoot you if he thinks you’re insane? (Or maybe that would just give him more of an incentive to kill you.)

“Just – just ignore me,” you say. (Again, you don’t know why. You don’t want to be ignored – you’re very obviously in bad shape.) “I don’t know where I am. I remember being in California, just north of Los Angeles.”

The man scoffs and checks over his shoulder, like he’s checking he’s not being duped. He looks back at you. “California? Really?”

“Yes,” you say softly. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself the best you can with the way that you’re laying. “South. Right near Mexico – Tijuana.”

The man tilts his head and takes a half-step closer. “You’re bleedin’.”

“I am?” You manage to move your arm and see dried brown blood on your jacket laced with redder, fresher blood. “I am.”

“I just…” You shift, curling in on yourself further. Now that he’s pointed it out, you do feel some type of dull pain in your abdomen. “I’ll be okay. Don’t call for a doctor, or an ambulance. Please don’t call an ambulance. I – I’ll get to a hospital on my own.”

The man shifts on his feet. Was it always this cold? It’s… it’s so fucking cold. And no matter how much you curl in on yourself, there’s no warmth. 

The black returns. 

There’s snippets of conversations you can pick up on over the sound of feet shuffling and the sound of wind blowing outside. One woman gives a few demands to others, while another woman announces that “Davey’s dead.”

You can feel yourself being lifted and laid on something that’s hard against your back. You groan and try to open your eyes and sit up, but can’t. 

The voices grow quieter. There’s a man making some sort of speech – you can’t make out the words. 

You know you’re wavering in and out. There’s the warmth of a man’s hand on your shoulder, and a murmuring voice, still fading in and out: “I commend you… your Creator… who formed you from the dust… angels, and all the saints…”

It takes all your strength to lift your hand and grab him – some part of him. You can barely open your eyes and can’t make out a lot. “Not… dead yet. Fucking pr…preacher.”

Black again. There’s a repetitive, stinging pain in your side. 

Awake, again. Somehow. A woman, her face worn but still beautiful, hovers over you. Her wrinkles are stark in the lantern light. 

“Hello?” You say, your voice a bit slurred.

The woman turns and calls another woman over – this one much younger than her. “Miss Jackson, get Dutch. Let him know Arthur’s friend is awake.”

Miss Jackson turns and walks off with a “Yes, Miss Grimshaw.” 

“Arthur?” You interject. “Is that the man who found me?”

Miss Grimshaw turns back to you. “Yes, Arthur’s the one who found you. I don’t know why he didn’t shoot you.”

You wait for her to say something more. She doesn’t.

“Where am I?” You try. “I remember being in California, just outside of the Mojave. But the Mojave doesn’t get snow in May.”

“That’s because you’re not in the Mojave,” Miss Grimshaw says. “We’re in the Grizzlies.”

“Th…the Grizzlies?” You echo. “Like, Appalachia?”

“Somewhere in there, yes,” she says. “You been out a few days now. Reverend read you your last rites a handful of times.”

You try to sit up, but groan and lay back down. She pushes you down as well, a scowl on her face. 

The door opens with a gust of cold wind. A man steps in, then quickly shuts the door behind him. He hurries over, rubbing his gloved hands together. 

He looks you over, then drags a nearby chair over and sits. “What’s your name, friend?”

You give him your name. 

“My name is Dutch,” Dutch says. “Dutch van der Linde. I think you know by now that you’ve caught us at an… inconvenient time. And you’ll forgive us for not trusting you right away.”

“No, I get that,” you say. “I just… I need a map or something. I need to get back home.”

Dutch beckons for Miss Grimshaw to bring over a map. He opens it and holds it out to you. 

You sit up, slowly, making sure not to do anything too sudden. When you’re upright, you take the map from him and look it over. You don’t recognize anything on the map, but one point piques your interest – the date. The year reads 1891.

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” You point to the year. “This map seems a little out of date.”

“It’s just eight years,” Miss Grimshaw says. “Most everything is the same.”

You glance up at her, then at Dutch, then at the people around the cabin. Your fingers twitch and crumple the map a bit. 

This is a dream! I’m in a coma! Your mind shouts. I’m in a medically-induced coma because I was shot and holy hell – how the fuck did I go from 2024 to 1899?!

“Right, right,” you say instead. “Sorry. I’m just being nitpicky.”

“Where’re you from?” Dutch asks. 

“California. Near the Mojave,” you say. “Out west.”

“And you would leave all that… virgin paradise…” Dutch laughs and gestures vaguely around him. “For this?”

“I don’t know how I got here,” you say. “I’ve been saying that since I woke up. I don’t…” You shake your head.

“Well, I’m sure we can get you back to your home,” Dutch says. “We’re persevering folk. Do you recognize anything – anything at all – on that map?”

You look down at the map again. It’s all unfamiliar. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, my friend,” Dutch says, reaching a hand out like it’s meant to soothe. “You’re a soul in need. I’m sure we can figure something out somehow. Can you at least tell me what your home is like?”

This is a coma, you remind yourself. I can just make something up. I’m not some person that couch-surfed for half my life. I can be whoever.

“I… it’s odd,” you say to buy yourself some time. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “There’s a few tribes that live in Zion Canyon – the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. I was a courier delivering goods to the Dead Horses. There were two men there that convinced me to stay.”

A Black man – broad, intimidating, with long, dark hair – perks up at the mention of tribes. His dark (almost black, honestly) eyes find yours, then he looks down at the floor again.

“None of it rings a bell,” Dutch says. “But, these men – what’re their names?”

It’s in that exact moment that you realize you just prattled off part of the storyline of Fallout: New Vegas. Then you realize that, if this really is 1899, no one here would know what you’re talking about. 

“Joshua Graham and Daniel,” you say. “They’re white – they work with the natives and help them trade. Joshua’s acting as the Dead Horses’ war chief and Daniel is a healer that works with the Sorrows.”

Yes. You’re totally friends with Joshua Graham and Daniel and the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. And from the way Dutch nods solemnly, you think he believes you. 

You hold out the map and he takes it back, folding it neatly. 

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say. “I’ve never even been this far east before.”

“Don’t worry,” Dutch says. “You can stay with us, for the time being. At least until we get to some… some town, or city. Let you rest your feet while you recover. We’re a gang of… violent criminals and degenerates, but we care. I can’t say the same for the rest of America.”

Your hand instinctively goes to your side, where you felt the stinging, repetitive pain earlier. “Right. My side doesn’t feel as bad as before. Thank you for that.”

You look around and slowly swing your feet over the side of the table. A lightning arc of pain shoots down your leg, causing you to gasp and tense. As with everything else, you force through it and stand. 

“I need to get some air,” you say. Dutch just nods. You walk (shamble, really) to the door and open it, slipping outside.

The cold is even worse out here. There’s footpaths in the snow. You stick your hands under your arms and walk one. It leads to a man standing by a fire in front of a cabin, dressed in a winter poncho with a gun in his hands. 

You hold your hands out towards the fire and rub your hands together. It doesn’t replace the warmth you had while you were inside, but it’s still something.

“What’s your name?” The man asks. He shifts the rifle in his hands, but doesn’t move to point it at you. (An improvement, if a small one.)

You give him your name. “What about you?”

“Javier,” Javier says. “Javier Escuella.”

“Where are you from?” You shift your focus to the fire. “Not trying to be rude. It’s just that there’s a few ‘Javier’s where I’m from.”

“Northern Mexico,” Javier says. “You?”

“I’m originally from the South, but I live in the Mojave. I moved to the Frontier to be closer to my sister,” you say. “So I guess we weren’t that far off from each other.”

You look up at the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow. It’s the man from way earlier – Arthur. You look back at the fire instead.

Arthur nods at Javier and spares a glance at you before entering the cabin. People are talking inside, and you catch a snippet of voices before Arthur closes the door again.

“It’s too cold to be May,” Javier says. You can tell he’s trying to be polite by making conversation. “I’m not designed for this snow.”

“I know, right?” You laugh under your breath. “Neither am I. I’d go back inside, but I don’t want to intrude. Any more than I already have, anyway.”

“It’s below freezing,” he says. “Everyone needs shelter. Come on.”

With that, Javier turns and walks into the cabin, holding the door open behind him for you. You thank him and follow him inside. 

Inside is a group of men and the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke. You tense when they all turn to face you. Most of them are, in fact, smoking. You nod politely and tuck yourself into a corner, next to a man with a blond mustache. 

A hefty man is sitting across from the blond man, and a much younger Black man is sitting on a table next to him. Javier is by the door, and you try your best to ignore Arthur’s huge presence beside you. You can see him throw a small log into the woodstove out of the corner of your eye.

The man sort-of across from you looks at you, then returns his gaze to the man sitting beside you. “I guess folks miss them… that fell.”

“Well, when I fall, I don’t want no fuss,” the man beside you says.

“When you fall…” The young man waves his hand, which is holding a lit cigarette. “There’ll be a party.”

“A party!” The hefty man echoes, laughing. “Hah, probably.”

You feel the beginnings of a smile start to cross your face. You don’t know these people, and while they aren’t exactly doing their best to welcome you, they aren’t exactly making you feel unwelcome, either.

The man beside you holds out a bottle to you. You hesitantly take it, even though you’re confused. “I don’t want this.”

He pays you no mind and stands, looking down at the man. “That funny, huh?”

“Sure,” the man says, the remnants of laughter still in his voice.

One man strikes another, and it’s loud, absolute chaos. On instinct, your eyes snap to the door. Unblocked. An exit if needed.

Arthur and the young man are holding the hit man back, and the blond man speaks. “Maybe  I don’t feel like being laughed at by the likes of you two!”

It’s going to escalate. You can get to the door. Dutch was right – this is a gang of violent criminals and degenerates. One you want nothing to do with.

But Dutch bursts in with a gust of cold wind. As soon as he sees what’s going on, his face twists. The men dissipate from their tight proximity and distance themselves from each other.

“Stop it!” He snaps. “You fools punching each other when Colm O’Driscoll’s needin’ punching – hard! You wanna sit around, waiting for him to come find us?”

Arthur slips out of the door as Dutch continues. “All of you, we got work to do. Come on.”

The men turn and start to file out of the cabin. You can hear Arthur and Dutch talking outside. By the time you’re outside, most of the men are over by the horses or on one of them.

Dutch is talking quietly to Arthur while they’re both mounting up – you couldn’t hear them if you tried. He straightens up on his snow-white horse and shouts. “Mister Matthews, Mister Smith, Mister Pearson, would you please look after the place? There are O’Driscolls about!”

With that, he snaps the reins and his horse darts off. The rest of the men from the cabin, now all on horseback, quickly follow. 

You resign yourself to following another footpath. This one leads to a partly-sheltered, partly-dilapidated garage-type-thing with something like a kitchen inside. There’s a deer hoist against the wall, but it’s empty.

Your eyes dart to some sort of cauldron-looking pot hanging over a fire that’s mostly coals. You walk over and hold your hands out to it, trying to get warm again. 

“You’re new.”

Your head snaps up to see the broad Black man from earlier. He still has that impassive look on his face. 

“Yes, sir, that’s right,” you say. You introduce yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Charles Smith.” Charles walks and stands beside you, mirroring you and putting his hands out towards the fire. “You were talking earlier about tribes.”

“Yeah,” you say. “What about them?”

“I’ve never heard of the ones you were talking about,” he says. His voice is deep and smooth and calm. (You try your best not to latch onto that sense of calmness. You now know how quickly things can turn.)

“The Sorrows and the Dead Horses?” You rub your nose as you try to think of an excuse. “I wouldn’t expect you to. They live in Zion Canyon – in the Mojave. They’re fairly isolated, but they’re good people.”

Charles hums and his eyes return to the fire. You try to think of something to keep the conversation going.

“Who’s Colm O’Driscoll?” You ask. “I’ve heard his name a handful of times.”

“A rival gang leader,” he says. “Runs the O’Driscolls.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You scratch your cheek. “That makes sense.”

A silence settles over the two of you again. Charles must be comfortable with it. Unfortunately, you’re not. 

“Is there anything people need done?” You ask, glancing at him. “I don’t like being idle for too long.”

He looks over at the empty deer hoist. “We need food.”

“I’m no good at hunting.” You look at the fire and rub your hands together again. “Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles says. His eyes flick to you. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You bite back another apology and force a laugh. Your breath mists in front of your face. “Force of habit.”

Charles hums and his focus returns to the smoldering coals that make up the fire. A nagging thought in the back of your head tells you that you made him mad (even though he’s given literally no indication you’ve done so). 

You follow his lead and look at the fire. There’s nothing else to do in this kind of cold, anyway.