#k ill go back to sleep

[distortedclouds]

It never stops being funny to me how Annie was worried about the "more cheerful girls out there" when I think the only time she should be jealous/Armin would actually blush at another woman is if she where to attack him

Like out of nowhere flip-over-the-shoulder kind of attack that Armin ends up on his back with a woman (extra points if older) looking down at him threateningly

Yeah it'll take his software a good while to reboot after that and I can totally see Annie looking at him just

🙂

[ping-ski]

no one should work over 6 hours honestly

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[bbluefllame]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 .ᐟ

synopsis: the boys taking care of you when you're sick ! (smau + hcs cs I love domesticity and I was listening to w2e and laufey)

chars: keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki

note: I was sick and mentally ill (devastating combo...) so! this was made cs I missed my babies. also, touya being rehabilitated (as always)

k. takami

- He rarely ever gets sick, so he gets home and starts panicking when he sees you next to the toilet throwing up and looking like death

- his ass is literally like “I know what to do, don't worry!” while he's running to the kitchen to google what to do before forcing you to chug medicine

- I've never seen someone more overprotective than him when you're sick. He'd be telling you to lay down the second you drag yourself off the bathroom floor

- God forbid you do any work around him, he'd give you the mom stare and tell you to go to sleep (like his ass even sleeps when he's sick…)

- he'd attempted to make chicken noodle soup but failed miserably. He put in too much salt and was like “it's fine, electrolytes are good, right??” Then he gives it to you, and even with broken taste buds, you can tell it's ass😔

- he's trying he swears, he's js not the best at taking care of sick people😔✊️ even though it kinda sucks he does put in a lot of effort and it's honestly pretty sweet even if he fucks up half the time! (When ur better tell him he did well, he'd melt even if he knows he sucked)

t. todoroki

- he doesn't know SHIT about being sick, patching up wounds and burns? ez. anything else? absolutely fried, COOKED!

- if ur horribly sick, he'd call his mom and fuyumi for advice. He'd be really aggressive while doing stuff for you, almost like he's mad, but he's not he's js aggressive 😭😭

- sucks in the kitchen, he's trying to turn on the stove but it doesn't work (or so he says), he runs back home and rei gives him a tub of soup to bring to you.

- he pretends he made it btw, reheats it and brings it to you on a tray, then goes “yeah I made it” when you praise him he looks proud and tries to hide his smile as if he fr made it (you know he didn't but ignore it)

- reads to you, don't ask why I think that he js does ‼️ you'd be laying your head on his shoulder and he's reading to you til you sleep (he's so cute clutching my stomach SOBBING)

t. shigaraki

- there's touya clueless then we have tomura clueless, tomura was taken care of by kurogiri if he got sick so he wouldn't really know what to do. He'd js try and copy what he remembers kurogiri doing😔 (he's trying his best okay‼️‼️)

- he'd do what you asked no questions, except he usually doesn't know what to do so he's js walking around clueless going “I know how to do this” (he doesn't know)

- unexpectedly, he's actually really good at making soup. He was gonna ask the chefs in the plf mansion, but he decided to try (soup is the only thing he can make without it burning)

- if you said it tasted good, he'd be grinning so hard thinking he's a chef and being all cocky & shi🙄🙄 like it wasn't allat calm down!

- when you came to find him, he jumped cs of how dead you looked and said damn, if u js started cussing him out he'd be stuttering and apologizing while trying not to giggle (beat his ass pls) (he should've stayed lost)

[sp-ud]

Ohg that was a weird drean

[https-milo]

DATING SHOTA AIZAWA INSTAGRAM!

details!

Instagram posts w/ comments while dating Shota Aizawa!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

main m. list / instagram m. list

sleepy.y/n · 15w

18.9k likes

liked by r.ratedMidnight, presentmicrophone, eraserhead

sleepy.y/n GUESS WHOS BACKKKKKKK!! who missed me! :P Also!! To my fans! I am not quitting being a hero, I'm just... moving my skills elsewhere so to speak ;)

presentmicrophone WHERE ARE YOU??? WHY WASN'T I TOLD?? I'VE MISSED YOU! sleepy.y/n presentmicrophone I'VE MISSED YOU TOO!! I HAVE A SURPRISEEEEE

eraserhead go back. sleepy.y/n eraserhead awww i've missed you too <333

izuku.mido AHHH OMG YOU'RE BACK IN JAPAN?? OH MY GOSH sleepy.y/n izuku.mido AND IM HERE TO STAY THIS TIME!!

random.no1 cant believe the sleeper hero is back! This is so exciting! sleepy.y/n random.no1 im excited to be back!!

sleepy.y/n · 14w

16.2k likes

liked by r.ratedMidnight, presentmicrophone, eraserhead, izuku.mido

sleepy.y/n rate the fit for my first day of school!

eraserhead you're 30, you don't go to school. sleepy.y/n eraserhead :) eraserhead sleepy.y/n no. you're joking. sleepy.y/n eraserhead introducinggggg class 1-A's assistant teacher :D

izuku.mido GAH! I'M SO EXCITED! sleepy.y/n izuku.mido I CANT WAIT TO LEARN YOURS AND YOUR CLASSMATES QUIRKS!!

eraserhead · 10w

1,921 likes

liked by izuku.mido, sleepy.y/n, ochaaaa, k.bakugo

eraserhead everyone got 100%? who's been giving out answer keys.

izuku.mido i don't think any of us would have the need to cheat 😅 Y/n-sensei has been giving us study guides and extra help when we need it!

sleepy.y/n don't worry, shota!! None of our students are cheating B) I've been helping them study and giving them extra assignments while you're sleeping! (Don't worry, I grade those myself) eraserhead sleepy.y/n k.

iida.tenya I will admit, tests and quizzes have been a lot easier now that L/N-Sensei is around. Still, I'm shocked we all got 100%.

ochaaaa am i insane or do Aizawa-sensei and Y/N-sensei have some... chemistry izuku.mido ochaaaa if the chemistry is bickering constantly then sure invisi.girl izuku.mido No but you can totally tell they don't mean it!! I ship it!!

sleepy.y/n · 8w

17.8k likes liked by eraserhead, r.ratedMidnight, presentmicrophone, izuku.mido, invisi.girl

sleepy.y/n even late at night, im only one call away <3

r.ratedMidnight OOOOO i know who that isssss!!

presentmicrophone ;) invisi.girl presentmicrophone OK THESE TWO WERE NOT ON MY BINGO CARD. PRESENT MIC AND Y/N-SENSEI??? presentmicrophone invisi.girl NO IN THE SENSE OF I KNOW WHO THAT IS. 📣THAT IS NOT ME📣

eraserhead what fool would call you? sleepy.y/n eraserhead a fool who needs me to put him to sleep ^^

eraserhead · 2w

1,201 likes liked by sleepy.y/n, izuku.mido, k.bakugo, invisi.girl, ochaaaa

eraserhead I fall asleep in her arms and wonder if it's just because of her quirk or not

tagged: sleepy.y/n

sleepy.y/n AWWW i love you so much Sho <3 eraserhead sleepy.y/n I love you too, idiot

invisi.girl YESSSS I CALLED IT

pinka.mina dare i say it.... cellophane pinka.mina ill say it for you: mama y papa

ochaaaa awwww you two are so cute! saw it from the start

presentmicrophone not even shockedddd you were obsessed with her in school ;) r.ratedMidnight presentmicrophone ikr! "Where's Y/n?" "Is Y/n gonna be there?"

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Kidnapped II

Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're sick

The league win is tonight.

Or, rather, the presentation of the trophy is tonight and Frido's excited. It should be a fairly easy win for the team so that combined with the trophy lift is going to make this day amazing.

It falls just short of perfect because you've fallen ill.

Frido's parents arrived nearly two days ago and, while you were perfectly fine on the plane, you're now a bit wheezy with a sore throat and a cough that just won't seem to go away.

"Älskling," She coos, bouncing you around as she gets ready to leave," You sound so bad."

You've been up most of the night coughing and Frido stayed up in solidarity, allowing her parents some sleep while she cared for you.

You cough again, as if to prove that you are feeling incredibly bad.

She measures out some medicine. Most of the team thought it was a little silly for her to be stocked up on kid's medicine when the only kid she hung out with was Cub but Frido had wanted to be prepared for if you got sick during any of your visits.

She'd be smug about it if it didn't mean that you were feeling terribly icky today.

She sways you softly as she squirts the medicine from the syringe down your throat.

"I know," She coos," Yucky, huh? I'll give this away to Mapi and Ingrid and find you some nice-tasting stuff for next time."

You whine a little and drop your head against Frido's collarbone. She keeps rocking you, rubbing your back softly as she lays kisses on top of your head.

"I'm going to call in," Frido says when her parents finally join the two of you in the kitchen," It's a fairly easy match. I won't be needed."

"Trophy is presented today," Her father replies gruffly," You can't miss that."

"Älskling is sick," Frido insists," I don't want to leave her. She needs me."

"You're not her mother," He says," You can't just pause your world because the little one is sick. Go to your match. Your mother and I will decide what to do with her. One of us will be there."

Frido puffs out her cheeks just like you do when you're annoyed. "I can stay!" She insists," She needs cuddles!"

"Cuddles that we are more than capable of giving her," Her father reminds her.

"Not sister cuddles!"

Her father laughs a little bit with an eye roll, taking you from Frido and soothing you easily when you whine against his chest.

"You know, I thought we left this petulance behind when you became an adult."

"I'm not petulant."

"Sure you're not.

Frido stamps her foot. "I'm not!"

Her father keeps laughing. "You're thirty years old and you're still stamping your foot? You're showing your baby sister a bad example."

The rumble of laughter from your father's chest has you let out your own raspy giggle that has Frido beaming at you.

"I'm staying here," Frido insists," Just to watch her a bit. It could get worse, you know."

"We raised you," Her father replies, adjusting you on his hip and bouncing slightly to help you settle," I think we know all about sickly children. She's much more well-behaved than you ever were."

"But-"

"Fridolina," He says, pulling out the full name and essentially silencing Frido with one word," If I have to drag you into that stadium by your ear then so help me I will. Your sister is capable of watching you on the tv no matter how sick she is."

Frido knows her father very well so the threat isn't empty.

She is going to the pitch even if he has to drag her there himself. It doesn't mean she has to be happy about it though.

Actually, Frido decides that she's not going to be happy at all even if the trophy is being lifted tonight. She forces herself to keep a frown on her face even when she listens to Ingrid complain about the two ginger cats that have now taken over her house.

Frido refuses to let herself be happy after being forced out of her own house while you're still wheezy and coughing.

"You can smile, you know," Mapi says," It won't break your face or anything."

"I'm proving a point," Frido replies," I am letting my parents know I'm not happy with this situation."

"Are you twelve? Because this is super childish."

Frido ignores her.

"Is this what I have to look forward to? God, I hope Cub never grows up."

"It's the principal of the matter," Frido says," My parents will understand."

It's difficult to keep the frown on her face when the team go seven nil up by the end of the match but if there's one thing Frido is, it's stubborn and she refuses to act like she's enjoying herself when you're sick in her home.

The trophy is brought out while the team celebrates and Frido gets up to join them before there's a familiar call of her name.

It's her mother's voice and Frido now knows it's her father who stayed home to look at you.

Good.

Because Frido isn't quite sure how she would react to seeing him here after her forced her to come without you.

Only...

You're being dangled over the railing to her, looking much happier and perkier than before.

"Look who decided to get over her little cold to see her sister win the league."

Frido grabs you and you clumsily fall onto her chest, giving her a big wet kiss on her neck.

She laughs. "Thank you, Älskling!"

You screech something unintelligible and Frido nods.

"I love you too!"

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 08

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 11.8 k

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note just wanted to shout out a big thank you to everyone who reads and support my story !! your support seriously means the world. thanks for sticking around, and i hope this chapter was worth the wait. dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts !! ♡ (fanart in the header)

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

Sunlight sliced through the thin gap in the curtains, painting stripes across your heavy eyelids. It felt warm, comforting—almost like an unspoken apology for the reality it foreshadowed. The plush hotel bed clung to your body, and for a blissful moment, you'd almost forgotten where you were.

Almost.

Until the steady rhythm of breathing beside you brought you back to reality. Satoru's arm was draped casually over your waist, his body moulded tightly against yours.

You wanted to stayed forever like that, suspended in the lazy lull of the morning, the world outside momentarily forgotten. But then, your gaze drifted across the room, landing on the digital clock.

The bright red numbers screamed it was far later in the morning than it had any right to be.

Fuck.

Panic slithered through your veins.

Today was the day of the lecture, the reason you were here in this sun-drenched coastal town, in this hotel, in Satoru's arms. And you were oversleeping.

You propped yourself up, elbow digging into the soft sheets, and turned to the white-haired man beside you. "Satoru." You nudged him, gently at first, then with increasing urgency. "Wake up."

No response.

"Satoru," you repeated, a little louder this time.

Still, nothing. Not even a twitch.

His features remained serene, his breathing steady, as if the world beyond his dreams didn't exist. His white lashes rested softly on his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted. He looked so peaceful. It almost hurt to wake him. But only almost.

With the clock ticking menacingly, reminding you of every second slipping away, gentleness was no longer an option. You drew your leg back and delivered a swift kick to his side. "Satoru!"

With a startled yelp, Satoru rolled off the bed and landed with a thud on the plush carpet below. He was immediately jolted awake by the cold floor against his skin.

"What the—," he sputtered, propping himself up on the edge of the bed, a look of utter confusion crossing his face. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction.

"We overslept!" You throw off the covers and scramble out of bed. "The lecture, Satoru! We're late!"

For a moment, he just stared at you, blinking away the remnants of sleep. Then, realization dawned on him, his eyes widening. "Shit!"

"Yeah, shit." You were already rummaging through your belongings for something suitable to wear. The lecture was in less than thirty minutes, and you had yet to prepare yourselves, let alone rehearse the final points of your presentation.

He sighed. "Maybe we should just skip it."

"Come on, Satoru, we don't have time for this." You tossed a pair of trousers at him, which landed on his head. He yanked them off, looking slightly bemused.

"So you're deciding what I wear now?"

"It matches my outfit." 

As the two of you scrambled to get ready, the room turned into chaos. Clothes were hastily thrown on, shoes mismatched in the rush, all while you tried to rehearse the presentation.

"Satoru, have you seen my laptop?"

"Check under my bag." His voice muffled from the bathroom where he was attempting a speed-shave. "And remember, the key point on slide seventeen is the statistical improvement in patient recovery rates."

Finding your laptop and opening the presentation to quickly recall everything you tossed another question back at him. "What about the potential side effects? How are we addressing those?"

"Slide twenty-two, we're emphasizing ongoing research and monitoring," Satoru called back, emerging from the bathroom with a small cut on his jaw, but otherwise looking more like the composed professor he was supposed to be today.

The flurry of preparations continued unabated as you both sifted through documents, gathered laptops and chargers, and double-checked that the USB with your presentation was safely in your bag.

You turned to see Satoru fumbling with his tie, his hands shaking slightly.

"Let me." You closed the gap between you, the scent of his aftershave sharp and familiar. You unwound the tangled mess he'd made and started afresh, draping the silk fabric neatly around his neck before proceeding to tie it. "How are you holding up today?"

His hands reached up to smooth down your hair. "I'm managing. But you're here. That's all I need."

You looked up briefly to meet his gaze, a smile forming on his lips. "Regarding the Q&A, we shouldn't overlook the upcoming clinical trials," you reminded him while adjusting the knot of his tie to perfection.

Satoru nodded. "Right. And if anyone asks about the implant's durability, you'll take that question. You know the technical specs better than I do."

Once the tie was neatly in place, your hands lingered on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. His gaze was heavy on you, and when you finally met it, his eyes held a tenderness that made your breath catch. 

He looked at you as if you were the only person in the world, as if the very sight of you filled him with an awe he could hardly believe.

His thumb traced the curve of your cheek, a touch so light it was almost a ghost against your skin. Time seemed to pause as you both lost yourselves in each other's eyes.

But just as quickly as the moment had enveloped you, reality came crashing back. With a jolt, you remembered that you were indeed late for the lecture.

"Let's quickly run through the opening of the presentation once more." You broke the stillness and resumed the morning's hurried pace. "I'll begin with an introduction to the progression of neuroimplant technology, followed by your detailed discussion of our research findings."

Satoru shook his head, as if snapping back to reality. "Sounds like a plan." He picked up the room key and led you to the door. "I'll conclude with our study's implications for future research and potential applications."

Just as you were about to hurry out, Satoru's voice halted you. "Wait."

You turned to find him stepping closer. In a seamless motion, he bridged the distance between you, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck. He leaned down, and his lips met yours. The kiss was sudden but tender, a moment of calm amidst the morning's frantic rush.

He pulled away reluctantly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "For luck."

Satoru grabbed his suit jacket in a swift motion before you left the hotel room.

"Sure you'll need it? It's going to be a scorcher today."

He smirked. "I have a feeling I might."

─── ·✧· ───

As you entered the auditorium, the sheer scale of the event stole your breath. 

The room was packed beyond capacity. Every seat taken, attendees sitting on the floor and along the stairs, every face—hundreds of them—turned toward the stage in anticipation.

You squeezed through the crowd, Satoru's hand a steadying presence at your back. You made your way to the front of the room, the eyes of the audience following your every move. The podium felt like a different world, a spotlight that left no room for mistakes.

As you set up your presentation, your gaze inadvertently swept across the faces in the crowd, searching, scanning until it landed on him—Sukuna.

Your heart pounded against your ribs. His eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, a smirk playing on his lips. Your stomach twisted.

Satoru, sensing your tension, leaned closer. "Deep breaths. Eyes on me," he whispered. "Forget him. You know this material better than anyone. You're brilliant, and today, everyone else will see that too."

You nodded, drawing a deep breath.

As Satoru began to speak, his voice carried across the room, clear and confident. The initial nerves faded away, replaced by the passion for your subject that always fueled you as you took the stage. The presentation flowed from introduction to in-depth analysis, from new research to potential implications for the future.

The audience was captivated, their attention unwavering as they followed along. The content you had both worked so hard on was being received with the enthusiasm and seriousness it deserved.

By the time the final slide flickered onto the screen, the room erupted into applause. You looked over at Satoru, finding him already looking at you. He smiled.

As the applause died down, the room transitioned into the Q&A session. Hands shot up one after another, questions being fired at you and Satoru with eagerness and curiosity. The exchange was lively, with both of you addressing each question with detail and clarity.

The scheduled time for the session quickly passed, yet the audience's thirst for knowledge seemed unquenchable, with more hands remaining raised, more questions waiting to be asked.

Suddenly, Sukuna raised his arm, his mere presence commanding attention. The room instantly fell silent, all eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you.

"I must admit, your presentation is both ambitious and promising," he began, his voice carrying across the packed auditorium. "However, I can't help but wonder about the long-term risks. How do you propose to overcome the inevitable immune response that will reject the implant? Or is the plan just to pump patients full of immunosuppressants until their bodies give out?"

Oh, he was such a dick.

"And another thing," Sukuna continued, not giving you a chance to respond to his first jab, "how do you plan to maintain the efficacy of the neural interface when the brain's neuroplasticity will likely render it obsolete in a few years? Or hadn't you thought that far ahead?"

Oh, he challenged you. You could clearly see it.

Satoru opened his mouth to respond, but you were quicker. Without hesitation, you stepped forward and cut Satoru off.

"Thank you for your interesting questions," you began, the edge in your voice mirroring his, "it seems you don't understand the scope of our research. As for the immune response, we don't rely on brute force immunosuppression. Instead, we're taking a new approach using biocompatible materials designed to integrate seamlessly with human tissue."

"And as for neuroplasticity," you continued, locking eyes with Sukuna, "our interface is designed to adapt as the brain changes, using algorithms that learn and evolve. We're not talking about a static piece of hardware, but a dynamic system. But perhaps the concept of adaptive technology is new to you?"

It was disrespectful, to say the least.

Bold. Stupid. Risky. All of the above and worse. No student should ever speak in such a dismissive tone to an experienced professor, let alone the head of the university who had specifically invited you to give this lecture, but God, you had had enough of his arrogance.

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then, Sukuna started to laugh—a shrill sound that filled the space. "Thank you," he said, his laughter fading into a smirk. "That was a truly refreshing lecture."

The audience erupted into applause once more.

Satoru strolled over to you, giving you a reassuring smile. In the moments following the lecture, as the last of the attendees began filing out of the auditorium, Satoru turned to you. "You were incredible out there," Satoru began, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart flutter. "I'm proud of you."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

Satoru stepped closer and reached out, his hands finding your waist, drawing you into him. You tilted your head back, your gaze on his lips as the distance between you dwindling to mere inches. Just as his lips were about to meet yours, a familiar voice interrupted the moment.

"Quite the performance," Sukuna's voice intruded. His eyes, locked on yours, held a predator's gleam. "You have a sharp tongue, woman. I like that. Keeps things... interesting."

Satoru's hand tightened briefly around you before he let go. Satoru then casually shrugged off his suit jacket, wrapping it neatly over his right hand.

"Thanks for having us," you replied as Sukuna made his way over to you.

"I'm sure my colleagues would like you both to—," Sukuna begann but was quickly shut silent when Satoru's jacket-wrapped fist met his face. The sound of the impact echoed through the empty auditorium.

Oh, great. Another lawsuit.

"So much for wanting to 'talk' about it," you said dryly.

Satoru turned to you, a beam of satisfaction in his eyes. "I wrapped my hand in my jacket so I wouldn't get hurt. Didn't want you to have to patch me up again," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

That's nothing to be proud of. Still, you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Turning back to Sukuna, who was rubbing his jaw, Satoru added, "You should be thankful that I didn't do it in front of your students. Now we're even."

Sukuna's laughter filled the room, a sound of genuine amusement. "You haven't lost your old charm, Toru," he said, rising to his full height. "Still a man for dramatic gestures."

With a step forward, Sukuna enveloped Satoru in a tight hug. "Just like old times, eh?" he said, clapping Satoru on the back.

What was going on here. Was this normal?

Satoru chuckled. "Exactly like old times. But let's not make a habit out of it."

You stood there. Stunned. Speechless.

You had questions, a million of them.

Sukuna took a step back. "Well, I shouldn't keep you. I heard you have a long drive ahead," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a beat too long. "I do hope you'll consider coming back to give another lecture in the future."

"We'll think about it. And thanks for the hospitality, Sukuna," Satoru said.

"Always a pleasure to have you here. Safe travels back." With that, Sukuna turned and left the podium, leaving you and Satoru alone in the now-empty auditorium.

"Ready to head back?" Satoru then asked, extending his hand towards you.

You took his hand, your fingers intertwined with his. "You have really strange friends, Satoru."

─── ·✧· ───

"Sent another one off yesterday," Maki sighed, the ice clinking in her empty cup. "Feels like I've exhausted every hospital within a thousand-mile radius."

"It'll pay off. You're brilliant, remember? They'd be fools to pass you up."

The city pulsed with life under the lazy afternoon sun. 

You and Maki navigated the crowded sidewalks, the scent of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries swirling in the warm air. Laughter bubbled up from overflowing cafes, their cheerful chatter a counterpoint to the impatient honks of taxis. 

The cool condensation on your iced coffee cup was a sweet relief against the prickle of sweat forming on your skin. But your conversation carried a weightier theme: Maki's internship applications.

Maki huffed out a mock-dramatic breath. "Well, if all else fails, there's always plan B: becoming a professional medical drama consultant."

"Medical drama consultant? Is that... a thing?"

"Think about it," Maki explained. "I'd be the go-to person for TV shows and movies to ensure their medical scenes are accurate. I'll be the one yelling at the screen, 'That's not how you do CPR!' or 'Nobody wears high heels in the ER!'"

"Yeah, why do they always wear heels on these shows? It makes no sense—" you began, then your phone buzzed, cutting you off. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face as you read the message.

[5:12 PM] Satoru: Got any plans later? I might have something in mind for us.

Maki's eyebrows shot up. "Who's that? Making you smile like an idiot in the middle of the street?"

"Nothing, just—"

But Maki was faster. With a flash of her hand, she snatched your phone. "Let me see."

"No, wait—" you protested, but it was too late.

Maki's jaw dropped as she glimpsed the name at the top of the chat history. "Satoru Gojo?" she breathed, her surprise quickly morphing into something bordering on glee. "The Satoru Gojo?"

Maki's eyes flicked back to the screen, scanning messages with lightning speed. An audible gasp escaped her lips. "And what's this?" she read aloud, her voice barely a whisper, "'I'd rather have you wear nothing'?" Her eyes glittered with mischief. "Oh my god!"

"Maki, it's nothing really." You tried to reach for the phone, but she danced out of reach, her eyes still glued to the screen.

"You and Gojo, huh?" Maki finally looked up from the phone. "Why didn't you tell me? How long has this been going on?"

You sighed, knowing there was no point in denying it any longer. "A while now. But it's complicated."

"Men are always complicated," she said, her fingers already tapping out a reply.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Texting your man back," she said with a wicked grin.

Before you could stop her, she snapped a photo of the lingerie store you were standing in front of. She hit send, adding a caption that made your heart leap to your throat.

[5:15 PM] You: Thinking of you.

The deed done, Maki handed back your phone with a grin. "There, now he knows what he's missing out on."

Your phone buzzed almost immediately, Satoru's response popping up. Both of you leaned in.

[5:15 PM] Satoru: Don't tease me, you might regret it later. 

[5:15 PM] Satoru: You should come over after your shopping trip and show me.

Maki raised her eyebrows. "Oh, he's good."

"He's an idiot." You locked your phone, shoving it deep into your pocket.

"So, spill it," Maki began, her eyes wide. "How serious is it?"

You sighed. "It's somewhat serious."

Maki's eyes narrowed. "You know what they say about him, right? He's a brilliant surgeon, and an even better heartbreaker. Are you sure he's not just playing his usual game?"

"I just know." The words ringing with a conviction that surprised even yourself. "He might be a bit of a mess, but there's something about him. When I'm with him—" You trailed off, searching for the right words. "He gets me."

Maki's gaze softened, the sharp concern replaced by a familiar, almost sisterly look. "I'm not judging," she said. "Gojo's—well, he's intense," she added with a wry grin that almost made you laugh. "But don't forget who you are in all of this."

Maki squeezed your hand. "You've got this amazing research project, a brilliant career ahead of you—don't let any man, not even Satoru Gojo, mess that up."

Yeah, it was far too late for caution, wasn't it?

Before you could answer, Maki's attention was drawn to a shop across the street. "Ooh, let's check this place out!" She darted off before you could protest, giving you time to answer Satoru.

[5:25 PM] You: 8 pm?

[5:26 PM] Satoru: I'm impatiently waiting for you.

─── ·✧· ───

When you arrived at Satoru's apartment, the door was slightly ajar. Pushing the door open, you stepped inside, calling out his name. You immediately noticed the flavors of thyme and ginger in the air and the soft lo-fi music coming from the kitchen.

Rounding the corner, you found Satoru in a scene you never thought you'd witness. He stood over the stove, tossing vegetables in a pan with practiced ease, humming along to the music playing softly in the background. The sight was so unexpected it stopped you in your tracks.

"You hungry?" he called out.

You moved over to him, and leaned against the kitchen island. "You're—cooking?"

Satoru glanced up at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Why does that surprise you so much?"

"I didn't think you knew how to cook."

Satoru and cooking were two concepts you'd never thought to pair together.

"Why not? I'm living alone, what did you think?"

"I don't know, that you live off delivery service."

"Ah, the misconception strikes again." As if to prove his point, he gave the pan in front of him an expert toss, sending its contents flipping neatly in the air before landing back with a satisfying sizzle.

"What are you making?"

"Ah, that would be telling. You'll just have to wait and see," he teased, the button-down shirt straining slightly across his broad shoulders as he reached for a spice jar.  A kitchen towel was slung over one shoulder, like a damn real chef.

The light from the setting sun filtered through the window, casting a warm hue that highlighted the sharp angles of his jawline, the concentration in his eyes as he tasted a sauce, and the small smile that played on his lips when he was satisfied with the flavors.

Your gaze drifted to his forearms, where the veins were subtly pronounced against his pale skin. Your mind wandered to how his skin felt against yours—smooth, yet with a hint of roughness. You imagined the touch of his long, perfect fingers, their gentle caress—

"So, how did your shopping trip go? Found something?" Satoru's voice pulled you from your daydreams, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement as he caught the distant look on your face.

"I wasn't the one who sent that message, just so you know."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming. "Figured. You're not usually so straightforward with your flirting. So, who knows now?"

"Maki knows."

"Maki Zenin?"

"Yes."

"I see," he hummed, stirring the pot thoughtfully. 

"She won't tell anyone," you added.

"You know, I wouldn't mind if people found out about us," he commented casually, sending a playful glance your way.

You scoffed, pushing yourself away from the counter. "You're seriously too laid-back for your own good, Satoru."

You wandered into the living room, the warm, spicy scent of his cooking clinging to you.

"Still haven't answered my question, love," his voice came from the kitchen.

"And which question would that be?"

"Did you find anything interesting on your shopping trip?"

"Ah, that would be telling. You'll just have to wait and see," you mirrored his words back to him, casting a glance over your shoulder to catch his gaze.

Your attention then shifted to a shelf beside the TV in the living room. Medical textbooks and dusty journals formed a stoic wall, interrupted only by a somewhat abandoned plant gasping for water. But your attention settled on the gleaming basketball trophies nestled between them.

Polished silver and gold surfaces reflected the warm light, each etched with names and dates, whispering stories of past matches. You couldn't resist. Your fingertips glided over their cool smoothness, tracing the inscriptions, a faint metallic tang lingering on your skin.

Meanwhile, Satoru's voice announced from the kitchen, "This will need a bit to simmer properly," followed by the sound of a lid sealing the pot and the soft thud of a towel carelessly tossed aside. 

He appeared behind you, a familiar warmth radiating from his body as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you close. The spicy scent of the cooking clung to his shirt, mingling with his own clean, masculine fragrance. His chin rested gently on your head.

Curiosity piqued, you asked, "Which one means the most to you?"

He guided both of you towards a shelf to the right, his hand leading yours to a particularly well-worn trophy, its surface already dulled. "This one is from our last match at university."

You traced the engraved plate at the base of the trophy, listening intently.

"It was against our biggest rivals," he began, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia. "And honestly, we were the underdogs. First half was brutal, we were falling behind, and morale was low."

He paused, and you could almost hear the silence of that locker room, the taste of despair in the air. "But then, halftime hit. Suguru... he gave that speech. I don't remember the words, but it was something else. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to say."

You glanced up at him, your curiosity piqued by the sudden softness in his voice. You watched as a smile crept across his face. "After that, we just clicked. Everything fell into place, and we played like never before. We caught up, and in the final seconds, Suguru passed me the ball."

You leaned closer. "And?"

"And I took the shot," he said, a laugh bubbling up. "And it went in. Just like that, we won." He sighed, his gaze returning to the trophy. "That's why this one means so much. It was the end of an era for us, a perfect closure before we all went our separate ways."

"But you and Geto stayed close, you even did your residency years together. And Kento's still around."

"I know," he murmured, a shadow flickering across his face. "But things were never quite the same."

Before you could delve deeper, his phone began to ring, slicing through the moment. He reluctantly let go of you and picked up the phone, a slight frown forming as he glanced at the caller ID.

"Sorry, I need to take this," Satoru said, the warmth in his voice replaced by a hint of tension.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just a call I have to answer."

He quickly excused himself, moving towards his study with brisk steps. "Won't be long," he called over his shoulder before slipping through the door and softly closing it behind him.

With Satoru momentarily gone, you wandered through the living room, each step echoing slightly in the spacious area. Eventually, you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool evening air a welcome caress against your skin. The setting sun painted the sky in breathtaking shades of red and orange, a canvas of fiery hues that seemed to set the world ablaze.

After a few minutes bathed in the dying light, you glanced back over your shoulder, expecting to see Satoru returning. But the door remained closed.

Each minute stretched longer than the last, the beauty of the sunset gradually giving way to the twinkling lights of the city below. As you lingered on the balcony, soaking in the last hues of the sunset . Then, a sharp, acrid scent suddenly sliced through the air, pulling your attention away from the serene view.

Wrinkling your nose, you realized it was the unmistakable smell of something burning.

You hurried back into the apartment. At the same time, Satoru emerged from his study and hurried into the kitchen to turn off the stove. You stood behind him, trying to peak over his shoulder on your tiptoes to see what was left of the evening's meal—but the food was beyond saving, a blackened mess at the bottom of the pot.

He let out a heavy sigh, a boyish smile playing on his lips as he turned to you. "So, what type of takeout do you want?"

Leaning back on your heels you tiled your head. "Pizza sounds good."

"Then pizza it is," he declared with a chuckle, already reaching for his phone to place an order. "Sorry for that, the call took longer than I expected."

"Who was it?"

"Just hospital stuff," he mumbled, his eyes flitting away for a moment. "Nothing important."

"Really? Because you seemed a bit stressed—" you prodded gently. But just as you touched on the subject, the pizza place picked up his call, cutting the conversation short.

"Ah, hey, I'd like to place an order," Satoru said, turning slightly away.

You exhaled, frustration rising within you.

You stepped back onto the balcony, the lingering scent of smoke clinging to the air. Leaning against the railing, you watched the people weaving through the streets below. Streetlights flickered to life, painting the streets in a garish orange glow as the evening deepened into night.

His footsteps broke the silence before you felt his arms encircle you. The warmth of his body drove away the chill of the night. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath lightly brushing against your cheek as you both looked out over the cityscape.

"You've got this really huge balcony, but there's practically nothing on it. It's like you just moved in." You turned slightly within his embrace to gaze at the unused space, which indeed seemed unused, almost stark in its emptiness, except for the vast view it offered. "How long have you been living here, anyway?"

"You probably don't want to know." Then, a spark of something new flickered in his tone. "I have an idea."

His sudden shift startled you. "What?" You turned to face him, your back now leaning against the railing but he already wandered off.

He hurried inside, his movements a blur as he vanished into the living room and then the bedroom. Moments later, he reappeared, arms laden with pillows and blankets. He tossed them onto the cold stone floor. In an instant, the balcony was a sea of softness and warmth.

"What's all this for?"

Without skipping a beat, Satoru plopped down onto the blankets, patting the space beside him with a wide grin. "Come here."

You hesitated only for a moment before joining him, the softness of the blankets enveloping you. You leaned back against Satoru, finding a perfect nook between his outstretched legs, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. His lips found the crown of your head in a tender kiss.

Enveloped in the soft embrace of blankets and cushions, with the city's lights below mirroring the starlit sky above, you found yourself sinking deeper into his embrace. The warmth of his body, the rhythmic beat of his heart—it felt like coming home.

Satoru's hand moved then, fingers brushing against your arm, as it seemed the traced the very veins beneath your skin. Surgeon's hands, you thought. Hands trained for precision.

His hand found yours then, carefully intertwining your fingers with his. His hands, large yet so slender, bore the faintest marks—tiny stitch scar here, few freckles there.

"It healed well," you murmured, thumb tracing the mark on his hand where you'd stitched a cut, after he punched that student weeks ago. "Barely a mark left."

His fingers grazed your cheek, then cupped your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Because one of the best surgeons took care of it." He tilted your chin upwards him, his eyes searching yours. His lips were inches from yours, a promise hanging in the air.

Then, the doorbell rang, a harsh, jarring sound that shattered the moment.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "Pizza's here."

He eased away, leaving the warmth of his touch as an imprint on your skin. Moments later, he returned, pizza boxes in hand. As you settled back into the cozy nest of blankets, the scent of melted cheese and herbs filling the air.

Midway through your slice, Satoru's voice broke the silence with a question that felt like a thunderclap on a clear day.

"So, when do I get to meet your mother?"

You nearly choked on your bite. "My mother?" you repeated. "You know she's... well, not exactly the conventional type. She's a bit out there." Understatement of the century, you thought. 

"Can't be any more 'out there' than mine. Besides, she's your mom. I'd like to get to know my future mother-in-law."

"What?"

"Aren't we there yet?"

"Where? What are you talking about?"

"What, is the thought of you marrying me so absurd?"

"Kind of, yes."

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that," he replied, undeterred.

"Are you serious?"

"I am serious." His tone softened, his eyes locked with yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "I mean, isn't that where this is heading? Us, together, for the long haul?"

Your heart raced.

How could he just blurt something like that out and act like it was nothing?

He dropped the idea of marriage as casually as suggesting a trip to Ikea next weekend—as if marrying him wasn't just a possibility—it was a given—as if being together with him—like forever—like until death do us part—was the most natural thing in the world.

Of course you're getting married, didn't you know?

Like, in his mind, marrying you was as natural and inevitable as the sun rising each day. He wasn't just proposing a future together. He was stating it as a fact, something he'd considered a done deal from the beginning and he'd simply been quietly waiting for you to catch up.

The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

"Or are you planning to dump me once the new semester starts?" he added.

"If you keep saying things like that, then yes."

In response, he closed the gap between you, his presence overwhelming. "Fine, then let me be clear—I absolutely do not want to marry you. In fact, I really can't stand you," he moved closer with each word, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "seriously, marrying you? Sounds like an absolute nightmare."

"Very funny, Dr. Gojo. Can't you ever be serious?"

His blue eyes held yours, the smile on his lips a shade bolder. "Dead serious." 

His lips hovered just inches from yours, a promise of a kiss hanging in the air. "I'm merely contemplating the perfect moment to ask my future Mrs. Gojo to marry me. Or perhaps you'd like to keep your last name?"

"You're impossible," you breathed, the word barely a whisper.

"But that's why you love me, isn't it?"

His words were barely audible, drowned out by the frantic pounding of your heart, his lips so cruelly close. But just as the distance between you was about to disappear, a harsh, jarring sound shattered the moment once again.

Satoru froze, a frown marring his handsome features. He glanced at his phone, the annoyance evident, before pulling away with a resigned sigh. "I'm sorry, I need to take this."

"It's okay, go ahead," you said, despite the disappointment that fluttered in your chest.

Satoru offered a strained smile before stepping away to answer the call. You watched him as he moved to a quieter corner inside his apartment. The ease and warmth that had enveloped you both just seconds ago were replaced by a sudden chill of distance.

As you waited, the unease settled in again, heavier this time. You watched him, he paced the room, seemingly distressed. When Satoru returned, his expression was unreadable, a mask that gave nothing away.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just work stuff," he replied. "Where were we?" He leaned in, attempting to recapture the lost spark, but the interruption had fractured something.

You frowned slightly. "You're hiding something."

He paused, a mere heartbeat away, his gaze lingering on the curve of your lips. "Nothing to worry your pretty head about."

"So there is something," you pressed.

Then, with a deliberate slowness, he closed the distance, his lips finding yours in a slow, deep kiss. Satoru's lips were warm and soft, his breath mingling with yours as he deepened the kiss. His fingers traced your jawline, a feather-light caress that belied the urgency in his eyes.

"It's nothing important," he murmured against your lips.

Your heart raced, matching the rhythm of his own. The heat in my stomach flared to life, a familiar, treacherous heat that threatened to drown out your doubts.

Slowly, his tongue slipped past your lips, parted them, and then licked along your lower lip.

"You're really testing me with your secrets," you breathed into his mouth. Yet, you parted your lips further for him to claim.

"You're really testing my patience with your stubbornness," he said before claiming your mouth once more. His hand slid down your neck, tracing the outline of your collarbone before venturing south. His fingertips danced over the fabric of your shirt, sending shivers up your skin.

You clung to him, wanting more of his kiss, feeling yourself falling deeper under his spell. Satoru responded in kind, his hand venturing lower, sliding beneath the fabric of your leggings. "I wouldn't be so stubborn if you would just tell me."

"But stubbornness suits you, sweetheart." His fingers moved further down, pushing aside the already damp fabric of your underwear. "It adds to the thrill." As his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin, a soft moan escaped your lips and the treacherous heat in your stomach flared higher.

"Has anyone ever told you you're impossible?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you never stop talking?" he countered, before sliding a finger inside you, eliciting a moan from your lips. You closed your eyes, biting down on your lip as he added another finger, and then a third. "That's how you like it, right?"

His fingers moved with deliberate slowness. Each teasing touch sent shivers through your body, eliciting moans that escaped your lips uncontrollably. Your hips arched towards him, seeking more of his touch. Satoru smirked, sensing your surrender. "Good girl. Let me hear those pretty little sounds."

This man.

This fucking man, did always know how to play you, how to make you weak, how to make you forget all your good reasons, leaving you desperate for his touch. He was a dangerous addiction, and you craved another hit, consequences be damned.

But can anyone blame you, when fucking Satoru Gojo's fingers were in you?

"You can't just fuck your way out of every argument," you protested, though your voice wavered.

"Oh really?" With a subtle grin, his movements intensified, his fingers delving deeper and faster. You grasped at his shoulders, tugging him closer as the pressure built inside of you. "I might want to try it anyway."

Suddenly, he withdrew, pulling down your leggings to reveal a new pair of lace underwear. "So you did buy something?" he remarked with a playful smirk.

"I never said I didn't."

Satoru's eyes gleamed as he admired the delicate lace accentuating your pretty curves. His fingers traced lightly along the edges, grazing over the fabric that barely concealed the allure of your skin beneath. "You look so fucking hot in that, what a shame I have to get you out of it."

"Then I should just keep it on, don't you think?"

His lips twitched into a half grin. "Just how I like it."

With a swift movement, Satoru pulled you onto his lap. He drew you close as his lips sought yours once more, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies. You reached up, your fingers tangling in his silvery hair as you pressed your lips against his.

His hands roamed restlessly across the hemline of your shirt. With a quick, eager tug, he pulled the fabric upwards, exposing your chest to the cool night air. A shiver ran through you, goosebumps rising along your arms.

He smiled wickedly, his teeth flashing white against the darkness as he took in the sight of the delicate lace of your matching bra. "You really have good taste."

"I know." Every inch of your skin tingled under the weight of his gaze as you closed the distance between you once more, your lips eagerly seeking his. Satoru pulled you tight against his chest, his lips devouring yours with fervor.

His hands wandered over the intricate pattern of your lace bra, exploring every curve and contour. His touch was both gentle and possessive, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips as you pressed your breasts against his hand, craving more of his touch.

His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your neck. His tongue teased over your collarbone and then down over your breasts as he worshiped every inch of your skin with fervent devotion.

His hand deftly pushed aside the thin lace to reveal your bare skin. His tongue traced circles around the sensitive nipples, causing you to gasp aloud.

"So, where's that attitude now?" he teased.

"Still here," you managed to breathe out.

"Then I'll just have to work harder."

With a sudden surge of energy, he pushed you back, pinning you down onto the soft bedding below. One hand closed around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to send a thrill through you. The other hand wasted no time and was already between your legs.

Without hesitation, he slid three fingers slow and deep inside you, filling you completely. His grip on your throat tightened with each inch he buried his fingers deeper.

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of pain and pleasure wracking your senses. Yet, somehow, it felt right, exactly how you needed him to be in that moment. 

"You like that, don't you?"

"Fuck, yes," you moaned as he began to move his fingers within you.

As if reading your mind, Satoru shifted his attention to your nipples again, caressing them hungrily with his tongue. The contrast of the roughness of his grip with the velvety softness of his caresses left you dizzy with excitement, your body responding eagerly to his every move.

Your mouth fell open, unable to contain the moans that escaped freely from your lips. You didn't care if someone could hear you. Someone must definitely hear you, how loud you were. 

With each passing second, your breath grew shallower, your heartbeat faster as you lost yourself entirely to him. With each stroke of his fingers, he coaxed another sigh, another whimper from your throat. Every inch of your skin tingled with heightened sensitivity, urging you forward towards release.

"You have anything to say now? Or did I find a way to shut you up?" he teased.

"You're such a dick sometimes."

With those words, his lips found their way back to your ears, breathing hotly against your skin. "Maybe," he whispered, "but remember how that 'dick' can make you feel."

He suddenly intensified his rhythm, each thrust deeper and more forceful than the last. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him towards you, and you opened your mouth wide beneath his.

"Tell me," he breathed against your lips, "how bad you want to cum?"

You moaned deeply into his mouth. "I don't."

What a lie.

"So stubborn." He broke from your lips to trail feather-light kisses down your jawline and neck. His teeth grazed lightly over the pulse point at your collarbone. You gasped, your body arching toward him. He looked up at you with a wicked grin, knowing full well how close you were now. "Seems like someone's pretty close for not wanting to cum."

"Shut up and finish what you started, Satoru," you demanded.

"You're not the one in command here." His grip on your throat tightened, sending a jolt of excitement through you. For a moment, you struggled against his hold, desperate for oxygen. Then, just as abruptly, he released you, allowing you to catch your breath.

"Now tell me, how bad you want to cum?" With swift movements, he descended lower, planting wet kisses over your chest, his tongue flicking teasingly over your skin.

"You're such a bitch," you gasped, but your defense was wearing thin as you sensed that you couldn't hold it in any longer. "Fuck—Make me cum, Satoru," you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Your heart raced as his fingers increased the pressure. His thumb found your clit, pressing firmly and beginning to rub in slow, deliberate circles. He pushed you closer and closer to the edge, until you rolled your eyes back in your head, screaming out his name in sheer pleasure.

As you lay gasping for breath, your limbs heavy with satisfaction, he moved closer, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. Your mouth fell open, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as his fingers, still buried deep inside you, coaxed out every last bit of your orgasm.

"Good girl," he whispered against your lips, "all messed up and so pretty for me."

"I hate you."

"I'm sure you do." He withdrew his fingers, which were soaked up to his knuckles. Bringing them to his lips, he licked from his knuckles upwards to his fingertips, savoring your taste. "So, what were we arguing about just now?"

"I know exactly what we were arguing about," you said, a sudden surge of energy coursing through you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled over, pinning him beneath you.

His hands found their way to your waist, pressing you down against his already hard bulge. "What's with the sudden power play?"

Your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the contours of his chest, eliciting a shudder from him beneath your touch. "Shut up and take off your shirt."

Without hesitation, he straightened up and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, his lips hovering just before yours as he did so. "Trying to take charge, are we?" His gaze was fixed on your lips, anticipation evident in his eyes.

With his shirt discarded, you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

"So, are you going to tell me now?" You began to rock back and forth against him, grinding your hips into his groin, leaving him gasping for breath beneath you. He let his head fall back, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered to the sensation, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

"Didn't we already go over this?" he breathed out, his voice strained with the effort to maintain control amidst the overwhelming pleasure engulfing him.

"You're dodging the question."

Leaning forward, you pressed your body flush against his, trailing soft kisses down his neck, savoring every inch of his heated skin. Your breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and he responded eagerly, his fingers clutching at your curves hungrily.

As you ground deeper against him, your movements became more intense. He let out a raspy moan, unable to hold back his noises any longer. "Please... Please, just keep doing that," he begged, his hands gripping your hips tightly as if trying to anchor you to him.

"Still avoiding my question," you persisted.

"You really can't enjoy a single night without having to start an argument," he countered, drawing his brows together. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, his body consumed by the intoxicating sensation of your touch. "Ah fuck, right there."

"You're a real pain in the ass," you gasped, though your own moans betrayed the words as his trousers rubbed against your core, the sensation of his hard length pressing against you sending shivers down your spine. Your gaze fixated on his lips, still glistening from your kisses.

The sight of him beneath you was both thrilling and intimidating—his muscles flexed and rippled under your touch, his skin sheened with sweat. Drops of moisture formed at the corners of his eyes. "I told you there's—ah, fuck—nothing to worry about, just let me—ah—handle it," he strained to articulate, his words punctuated with moans.

You weren't sure if you wanted to punch him or admire him for his persistence.

"I swear, you're going to kill me with this," he gasped, his fingers digging into your waist as if anchoring himself to reality amidst the overwhelming sensation. "But damn it, keep doing it anyway."

You trailed your fingers down his chest, marveling at the play of muscles beneath his skin. As you grazed your nails across his chiseled abs, you noticed a subtle tremble in the muscles beneath your fingertips. They rippled and contracted, revealing the urgency that radiated from him.

"Fuck, I can't hold back any longer. Let me fuck you already, or I'll cum in my pants," he groaned.

"Oh, you want to cum?" you tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. "Then tell me, what's going on?"

"God, damn it. Leave it be, and let me fuck you."

You abruptly stopped grinding on him, releasing your hold and leaning back slightly. "No telling me, no fucking me," you declared, standing up and moving away.

"Ha? Wait, what?" Satoru's eyes shot open immediately, frustration evident in his expression as he watched you retrieve your leggings and cover the lace underwear you had worn just for him. 

Popping himself up on his elbows, his heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to control his breathing. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Apparently not." You tossed his shirt onto his chest as you walked past him. "How about a movie?"

─── ·✧· ───

Your hands were under the steady stream of water once again.

The familiar adrenaline rush was there, but less this time. It was already your sixth surgery. Everything went well. No complications. No problems. 

Each time, it felt just a little easier to breathe.

The sterile quiet of the washing room was almost comforting, except for the distant echo of pacing from the hallway outside. You glanced through the small window, seeing Satoru's silhouette through the frosted glass.

He moved restlessly, a phone glued to his ear. Even from this distance, the tension in his shoulders was palpable. Every now and then, he'd run a hand through his hair.

Then, the door swung open with a jarring noise, and Satoru stepped in, filling the small space with his presence. You turned off the tap and dried your hands, watching him closely. 

He moved to the sink beside you, his steps a touch too heavy. The tap screeched under his grip as he wrenched it open, the water spilling in an almost violent rush. The scrub brush trembled in his grip, his knuckles white as bleached bones against the harsh fluorescent lighting.

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

A muscle jumped in his jaw before he forced a smile. It stretched his lips but didn't touch his eyes. "Everything's fine," he said, the words coming out a bit too quickly, a bit too rehearsed. "Just hospital bureaucracy, you know how it is."

You didn't believe him. Not one bit. 

"Really? Because you seemed pretty stressed just now. And we're about to perform a rather complicated surgery in a few minutes."

He turned off the tap, his back to you for a brief moment to dry his hands that felt like an eternity. When he faced you again, the smile plastered on his face was a poor mask. 

"I'm fine, really. But thanks for asking," he replied, his tone softer now. "How are you feeling? Ready for this?"

"You know, it's getting annoying to hear the same lies over and over again."

He cut you off, a little more sharply than intended. "I said it's nothing. Let's focus on the surgery, okay?"

He's in withdrawal.

He's in withdrawal and there's probably something going on that you don't know about.

He's in withdrawal and there's probably something going on that you don't know about and he's not ready to share it yet—to protect you or whatever stupid reason he has.

He's in withdrawal and there's probably something going on that you don't know about and he's not ready to share it yet—to protect you or whatever stupid reason he has.You had to remind yourself of that to keep yourself from stepping up to him and fucking spitting in his face.

Still—

His words cut deep.

As Satoru made to leave the room, he hesitated momentarily beside you, a silent struggle evident in his stance. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the words barely audible. "Let's talk about this later, okay?" With a gentle kiss on your temple, he made his exit, his presence fading along with the scent of his cologne.

You followed him into the operating room. A knot formed in your stomach, the weight of silence a heavy cloak between you.

But professionalism took over as you both slipped into the practiced rhythm of your teamwork. Each movement was precise, a result of hours of practice and the deep understanding you had developed of each other's methods and thoughts.

The silent communication between you, carried by mere glances and subtle shifts in posture, made the complex procedure flow smoothly. As usual.

For a time, everything progressed as planned.

The humming of the equipment and the occasional soft command from Satoru were the only sounds that broke the concentration in the room.

Then, without warning, the steady rhythm of the operation was shattered. A sudden hemorrhage began in the brain. Blood, crimson and shocking, bloomed on the screen. The calmness of the procedure was replaced by a sudden urgency.

"We have a bleeding," Satoru's voice remained steady, his focus unwavering on the operative field.

Fuck.

Fuck.

This shouldn't happen.

This couldn't happen.

Panic clawed at your throat. 

Breath... where was it?

Each gasp a futile fight for air that never came.

Your hands, slick with sweat inside the gloves, fumbled like a stranger's. 

The room tilted, the harsh ceiling lights blurring into blinding white. 

Do something—why can't I think—was it my fault, my fault, my—

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Satoru's voice cut through like a lifeline, commanding your attention. "Focus on my voice. Just my voice, can you do that for me?"

You met his gentle gaze, the slight furrow in his brow softening as he looked at you. "You're not alone in this, just follow what I'm saying, okay?"

Fuck, get your shit together.

You weren't alone. You had him.

You nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"I need you to apply direct pressure here," he said, pointing with his instrument to the bleeding vessel. Your trembling hands fumbled for a moment before you grasped the sterile gauze, positioning it with painstaking care over the spot Satoru had indicated.

"Good. Hold it there while I cauterize the vessel. We need to stop the bleeding without compromising the surrounding tissue." Satoru took the bipolar forceps and skillfully maneuvered it around the critical area. 

"You're doing great," he said, his voice calm but focused as he worked to seal the bleeding vessel. "Just hold steady."

After a tense few minutes, the bleeding was controlled.

Satoru took a moment to assess the situation, ensuring that the bleeding had indeed stopped and that the patient remained stable. "That should do it. You can release the pressure now."

You slowly released the pressure, your hands betraying a slight tremor. 

You hated it.

Hated how weak and powerless you felt in those moments.

Hated the fear that had momentarily choked you.

"Do you need a moment?" Satoru asked.

You wanted to say yes, to let the tears of relief roll down your cheeks, but something held you back. "No, I'm okay," you replied. But you both knew you weren't.

His gaze held yours, his concern evident. He wasn't fooled by your bravery, seeing the tremor in your gloved hands, the slight tightening of your jaw. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice softer now. "It's okay to step out if you need to catch your breath."

"No," you insisted. "Let's finish this."

Stepping away from the table, you took a deep breath, trying to dispel the lingering fear. With a determined shrug, you forced a smile. Satoru returned the smile and together, you dove back into the task at hand, closing up the patient with practiced precision.

The rest of the operation proceeded without incident. With each suture placed, with each step that brought the procedure to its close, the unease that had gripped you began to recede, inch by painstaking inch.

Relief washed over both of you as the final sutures were placed, sealing the wound and marking the end of the surgery.

─── ·✧· ───

Later, you found yourself in the observation room, awaiting the results of the CT scan on the patient with the bleeding. You wanted, needed, the scan to be flawless, a clean slate erasing the memory of trembling hands and breathless fear.

A tense silence suffocated the observation room, broken only by the rhythmic hum of machines and Satoru's relentless fingers tapping impatiently on the wooden tabletop. Your eyes glued to the CT machine through the window as you waited for the images to appear.

Satoru's gaze then flickered to you, concern etching lines on his brow. "You look pale," he observed quietly. "Are you okay?"

You forced a smile, the gesture feeling brittle. "Yeah, just the adrenaline, I guess. Long day." The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Satoru studied you for a moment, his silence more telling than words. 

He always saw too much.

"I'm starting to think I might not be cut out for this," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

His reply was immediate. "That's not true. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I almost panicked back there. If you hadn't—"

"So what," he interrupted gently. "That's perfectly fine. You're still learning. Believe me, I messed up way more when I was starting out."

"Hard to imagine."

"Don't get down on yourself," he said. "You're doing great."

A flicker of doubt sparked in the back of your mind. Were you? 

After a moment, he added softly, "Look, I know I've been asking a lot of you. If you need to take a step back—"

"No," you interrupted, the word sharper than intended. "I don't want to give up."

"Taking a break isn't giving up," he said gently. The concern in his eyes made you want to squirm.

His offer, meant to be supportive, struck a nerve—chipped away at your carefully constructed armor. No, you couldn't accept that. Couldn't face the echoing void it would leave, the fear that without this, there was nothing. You were nothing.

The pressure built—an unseen weight crushing your chest.

So, you did what any rational human being would do in that situation, right?

You pushed back.

"When will you stop shutting me out?"

"Can we not do this now?" There was a weariness in his voice that you hadn't heard before.

"So when, Satoru?" you pressed. "When is the perfect time to tell me what's going on?"

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "This isn't the time or place," he insisted, his voice tight. "We need to focus on the patient."

"You're impossible!" The accusation hung in the air. "How can you stand there, acting like nothing's wrong, when it's so obvious something is?"

He held your gaze, the storm in his eyes mirroring your own. "I know what I'm doing," he said, each word clipped. "But you—what's happening with you right now?"

As if on cue, the door opened, and Geto stepped inside. 

"Heard there was a bit of excitement in surgery," Geto remarked, his breezy tone a stark contrast to the lingering anger in the room. "What happened?"

Satoru tore his gaze from you, reluctantly shifting his focus. "Not sure yet. We had an unexpected bleeding. We're waiting on the pictures to get a better idea."

Geto's eyes flickered to you, a hand coming to rest on the back of your chair. "You look pale. How are you holding up?" he echoed Satoru's earlier observation.

Were you really that pale or what?

"I'm fine, just tired."

Satoru's phone suddenly vibrated, the jarring sound cutting through the already strained silence. He glanced at the display, his expression hardening. "I need to take this."Without another word, he stepped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

He was gone, but the tension lingered, a suffocating presence in the small room. Geto watched Satoru's retreating form, a sigh escaping his lips. He turned to you, settling into the chair Satoru had just vacated.

You couldn't quite meet his gaze. It was clear he sensed the unease that hung in the air.

"Is everything okay between you two?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I don't know." You scrubbed a hand over your face. "I'm stupid, Geto."

"Why that, pretty?"

"It's just... there's something off, and I'm not making it any easier for him to talk about it," you said, the words barely a whisper. "I feel like things are getting worse again."

"Makes sense. He's been cutting down his meds too quickly. It's no surprise he's in heavy withdrawal."

"Cutting down one milligram every two weeks isn't too fast," you said, slightly offended that he questioned your perfect withdrawal plan. "That's standard protocol."

Geto's reply was blunt, cutting through your denial like a knife. "One? He slashed his dose in half. That's reckless, even for him."

"What?"

"Huh?" Geto's brow furrowed, surprised by your reaction.

"What did you say?"

"That he reduced his dosage by half, hasn't he? Like, he went from ten milligrams down to five."

The room felt smaller, the air heavier.

"You didn't know, huh?" Geto's voice was soft now.

Admitting it out loud felt like unraveling a tightly wound string. "I didn't. He mentioned six milligrams—" Your voice trailed off, a sickening feeling spreading through your chest.

Geto's expression softened. "He's good at hiding things."

"And there's something else," you said, sinking deeper into your chair. "Something he's been hiding ever since that we got back from that coastal university."

A slight smile flickered across Geto's face. "Heard you managed to put Sukuna in his place in front of everyone."

"Sukuna's insufferable. I can't believe Satoru ever saw him as anything close to a friend."

"Friends? No, they were more like enemies drawn together by their shared taste for self-destruction rather than real friendship."

"Yeah, I saw as much."

Geto leaned in slightly. "But Sukuna... he was a particularly bad influence on Satoru. It was better for both of them when their paths finally split. After all, Sukuna was the reason for Satoru's addiction."

"What?"

"Sukuna was the one who introduced him to that whole scene. Kept him well-supplied until they both got hooked."

The revelation hit you like a physical blow, the air knocked from your lungs as the pieces fell into place.

"You didn't know that either, huh?" Geto observed.

Silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. 

Finally, Geto spoke again, his tone weary. "Look, it's how he's always been. Walls up before anyone gets too close, pushing people away because—" he paused, a flicker of pain crossing his face, "—because he's convinced that deep down, he's broken. That if anyone truly sees him, they'll run for the hills."

A bitter laugh escaped you. "For someone who warned me to stay away from him, you sure are making it awfully hard to hate him, you know?"

"You two are like a car crash you can't take your eyes off. And honestly? Trying to separate you is pointless. I'm just trying to make it less painful for me to watch, because Satoru—," he trailed off, shaking his head, "—Satoru sure knows how to screw things up."

His words stung, but there was truth in them. 

You both knew Satoru's tendency for self-sabotage.

Geto paused, searching for the right words. "Thing is, back then, Satoru was different. Restless, always trying to prove something. Sukuna saw that vulnerability and played on it. Offered him what he thought was friendship. But it was all just a trap, a slow poison."

He shifted in his seat, "Satoru lost himself to that addiction before he even realized how deep he was in."

He leaned closer, making sure you were listening. "But you? You're good for him, whether you see it or not."

"Hard to believe that right now," you mumbled.

Geto's reply was immediate. "The fact he's opened up to you at all, about this?" He shook his head, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "Hell, you survived meeting his mom. That's unheard of."

"Has Satoru ever actually dated anyone?"

"Not seriously," Geto shrugged. "He's always been too good at sabotage, pushing people away before it gets real."

Your mind lingered on a seemingly offhand comment. "Wait, what's the deal with his mom?"

"Lovely woman, isn't she?"Geto leaned back in his chair, his gaze on you suddenly darkening. He pulled out a cigarette, the click of his lighter cutting through the tense silence.

You raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Smoking here?"

"Ah, come on, don't start," he retorted, a wry smile playing on his lips as he inhaled deeply, the smoke curling toward the ceiling. "Satoru's upbringing was intense, to say the least. Top surgeons, generations of them. The expectations were sky-high."

"What about his father?"

Geto exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Absent. Barely even speaks to his mother now."

Your head spun, piecing together fragments of Satoru's past.

Must feel exhausting.

Must feel suffocating.

Must feel cruelly lonely, growing up in a family devoid of love, chasing a lifelong search for validation in a family that valued success above all else.

Must feel even more cruelly lonely when you can't even talk about it, can't open up to anyone about it. Maybe it was easier for him to give in to his addiction.

Talk about a vicious cycle.

Then suddenly the pictured of the CT scan appeared on the monitor, reminding you that you were still in charge of a patient. Geto leaned in, studying it with practiced eyes. "Looks like Satoru managed to control the bleeding, everything's looking stable."

"Good work, both of you," he added as his gaze flickered back to you.

His praise fell flat. You mustered up a weak smile in response.

As you sat there, a sudden vibration from your phone broke the tense silence. You glanced at the screen, seeing Satoru's name flash across the top. The message was brief, almost curt.

[3:31 PM] Satoru: Had to go somewhere. Don't wait for me. Go home.

A lump formed in your throat. "It's Satoru."

Geto leaned over to glance at your phone screen, his eyebrows knitting together as he took another drag from his cigarette. After a moment, he exhaled deeply, his hand absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck.

Standing up, he flicked ash into a nearby trash. "I'll take you home."

You looked up at him. "But, the patient... I should stay."

"I'll ask one of the residents to keep an eye on things."

"But—"

"Don't," Geto cut in gently. "You've done enough for today."

You knew he was right.

With your mind all over the place, it was probably best not to keep an eye on a patient fresh from brain surgery. Not without Satoru. You wanted to do nothing without him.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you. "Okay."

─── ·✧· ───

Later that day, under the amber glow of the setting sun, you stood at Satoru's door.

Maybe you were stupid. Maybe you were just in love. Maybe both. 

Anyway, after a moment's hesitation, you pressed the doorbell. Its chime seemed overly loud. The door creaked open, revealing Satoru.

The spark you always adored, the one that danced in his eyes, was dimmed. Fatigue etched itself onto his features, a heavy cloak weighing him down. He appeared genuinely taken aback to see you standing there, a momentary flicker of confusion crossing his face.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

The question wasn't accusatory—it seemed more like he was genuinely confused, as if the concept of someone showing up at his door unannounced was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve in his current state.

"I messaged you," you started, holding up the bag of sushi takeaway as if it were a peace offering. "Thought you could use a decent meal."

"Sorry, I've been..." He trailed off, a hand running through his unkempt hair. "I haven't checked my phone."

Without waiting for further invitation, you pressed the bag of sushi into his hands and pushed past him into the apartment. 

Inside you were greeted by a chaotic mess throughout the living room. Papers spilled across the living room floor like fallen leaves, medical journals and crumpled notes forming chaotic constellations on every surface. The sight stopped you in your tracks. 

"What's all this?"

Satoru closed the door and followed your gaze around the room, as if seeing the mess for the first time.

"Been trying to make sense of what happened today in the OR." He sounded tired, the weight of his concerns evident in the slump of his shoulders. "I feel like I'm missing something—it's driving me mad not knowing."

He moved to clear a corner of the coffee table, the papers scattering under his frantic hands. You watched him, a knot forming in your stomach.

"Let's take a break," you suggested, settling down on the floor in front of the couch. You began to clear more space on the coffee table, making space for the sushi.

Looking up at him, you saw that he just stared at you, as if unsure if he was even allowed to sit at his own table next to you. "Come on, Satoru, sit down."

He sank down opposite you, papers rustling beneath him. Your chopsticks snapped with a harsh crack, the sound jarring in the strained silence. "The CT scans came back clear," you began, "the bleeding was fully stopped. No further complications."

"Good to hear," he said with a snap of his chopsticks.

"What do you think went wrong?"

He paused, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "Hard to say. Everything was textbook until it wasn't. Maybe it was some anatomical abnormality we missed, or perhaps it was just one of those unpredictable factors that remind us we're not as in control as we think."

"Isn't that how it always is? Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. You taught me that."

He sighed. "That's just something we teach young doctors, so they'll not lose their minds. In the end, we can't control shit. It's just an illusion we comfort ourselves with to keep from drowning in our own insignificance."

"Is that how you see things?"

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. "I don't know... I'm talking nonsense," his voice trailed off, "I just feel like today was one of those days that reminds you how fragile everything is. How quickly things can change, despite our best efforts. Makes you wonder... what's the point?"

"There is no point, neither in life nor in death." His eyes widened slightly as you continued. "But you can either cry about the whole meaninglessness of the world or try to find meaning in it, to do something that gives meaning to life."

"Is that how you see things?" He reached for a sushi roll, fingers hovering for a moment, then lowered the chopsticks back onto the table. "Doesn't that drive you insane?"

"Perhaps, but still more sane than you."

He huffed, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Fair point."

Silence enveloped you as you simply gazed at each other.

His eyes, that captivating shade of blue, held yours with unwavering intensity—demanding nothing and offering everything—a silent conversation where words were unnecessary.

It felt like drowning—looking in his eyes felt like drowning—strangely, yet in the best way possible.

No fear. No need for rescue.

This man.

God, this man is it.

Even with all his stupidity and flaws.

A flicker of warmth spread through you as you traced the faint stubble on his chin, the scar at his temple—imperfections that made him all the more beautiful in your eyes. Every detail seemed newly etched, like you were seeing him for the first time.

In that stretched thin slice of eternity, a thought pierced through your mind, terrifying in its clarity. If his love were a sharp blade aimed at your heart, you'd gladly embrace its piercing edge, for what is love if not the sweetest pain?

His breath caught, a tiny hitch, and his eyes softened, the sharp edges melting away. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, tentative at first, then widening. 

You couldn't help but mirror him.

Then without warning his voice, low and rough like velvet rasping against stone, shattered the silence.

"I love you."

Ha?

"And I got sued."

Haaaa?

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: first, a huge THANK YOU to everyone reading and supporting my story! it seriously means the world. hope you loved this chapter, and i can't wait to hear what you think!

also, i'm considering writing the next chapter from satoru's pov to delve deeper into his rather messed up head, so that should be fun. hopefully, it'll finally make sense why he does… well, everything.

quick note about the reader's doubts, i know it might feel sudden so i want to clarify that a bit more. essentially, she grew up with a highly skilled surgeon as a father, so death wasn't something she dwelled on much and she never really questions herself until things happen.

but with this new approach to surgery, where there's no blueprint and every procedure is high stakes, doubts start creeping in. not to say that satoru is a terrible surgeon, he is indeed the best in his field, but you get it, right?

there is more potential for some unexpected things to happen during surgery and also the reader is unlike in her past along side satoru responsible for the outcome and not merely assisting. plus, the overall stress that comes with being around pain-in-the-ass satoru gojo.

speaking of satoru, i wanted to add that he never really learned how to communicate or articulate love in any form of relationship, neither to his family nor to a potential partner. so he's very clumsy with it, despite being quite sure about his feelings towards the reader. i think that adds a fun touch to the story but also makes the reader lose her mind.

regarding his upbringing, which was pretty much filled with emotional neglect and high expectations, it left him feeling pretty much unlovable unless he excelled at everything he does.

this eventually led to his addiction, which started innocently with ritalin to focus during exams, as mentioned in chapter nine, to meet the high demands of his family but at the same time he used it also to numb deeper pain. and eventually everything spiraled out. a vicious cycle indeed.

so yeah, there's a LOT going on under the surface! i'm excited to explore it more, i just love troubled humans omg. what do you think so far? does his character make sense (or am I totally crazy here)?

okay that was much text. thanks again for reading! love you all! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

[pure-vanilla-lilies]

Shadow Milk Cookie Smut Alphabets

(I’m trying something new if you guys want more with other characters let me know)

A) Aftercare:

Shadow Milk Cookie really gives good aftercare, from hot bubble baths to back massages. He’s the king of after care for sure

B) Body Part:

Their favorite body part on himself is probably his eyes, his favorite body part on his partners is their chest. Sorry he’s an boob guy for sure :)

C) Cum:

Shadow Milk Cookie cum taste like blueberry milk, he does cum about 3 to 4 cups each round so definitely leaking after a session with him!

D) Dirty Secret:

No one else knows this, but he has a praise kink, he loves being praised and being called a good boy. He would abustle melt if that ever happens

E) Experience:

Shadow Milk Cookie does have some experience, before he was corrupted he had a wife before she died from an illness. So he has some experience!

F) Favorite Position:

Shadow Milk Cookies favorite position is missionary and doggy style for sure. Sometimes mating press if he’s really horny

G) Goofy:

Yes Shadow Milk Cookie is sometimes goofy in bed, but most of the time it’s serious

H) Hair:

Shadow Milk Cookie does keep up with his grooming, trimming every few days for sure!

I) Intimacy:

Shadow Milk Cookie is so so on the romantic side. But he does enjoy the romantic side half the time

J) Jack Off:

Shadow Milk Cookie does jack off once or twice a week. Especially if he’s very needy and if his partner isn’t home at all. He does leave a huge mess

K) Kink:

Shadow Milk Cookie is slightly kinky here some of his kinks

•Public Sex

•Hair Pulling

•Pet Play

•Edging

•Bondage

L) Location:

Shadow Milk Cookie favorite place to have sex is in the bedroom, it’s more comfy for him and his partner

M) Motivation:

Anything motivated Shadow Milk Cookie, but honestly if his partner wears something cute or sexy to bed, be prepared to not walk the next morning

N) No:

Choking and Breath Play is a big no! Shadow Milk Cookie refuses to put his hands on his partner neck. He has a fear that he might kill them

O) Oral:

Shadow Milk Cookie prefers both, but more giving. He wants his partners to be a flustered mess when he’s done with them

P) Pace:

Hard and rough is what Shadow Milk Cookie enjoys for sure! But sometimes slow and steady if his partner is very sensitive!

Q) Quickie:

Not a huge fan of Quickies, Shadow Milk Cookie wants it to be remembered for sure!

R) Risk:

Shadow Milk Cookie is happily to experiment. But nothing that can hurt his partner for sure!

S) Stamina:

Shadow Milk Cookie could go 3 rounds, sometimes 4 if he’s very pent up

T) Toys:

Shadow Milk Cookie does own toys for sure. He uses them on his partner more

U) Unfair:

This motherfucker is a huge tease. Shadow Milk Cookie will tease the living hell out of his partner until his partner is too sexually flustered that they pin him down onto the bed.

V) Volume:

Shadow Milk Cookie isn’t that loud, he will let out breathy groans and grunts. But not very vocal for sure

W) Wildcard:

Funny to say, but Shadow Milk Cookie loves watching his partner masterbate. He loves when they moan out his name especially when their close to cumming

X) X Ray:

Shadow Milk Cookie is packing an 6.3 inch dick. He’s definitely big for his height :)

Y) Yearing:

Shadow Milk Cookie has a high sex drive and he don’t give a shit lol

Z) Zzzz:

Shadow Milk Cookie sleeps after his partner is cleaned up and safe. He wants to make sure that they’re okay first. He soon sleeps after about 10 minutes while his partner is sleeping on him!

[hillbilly---man]

A list of the specific chronic illness/disability-related things in Saiki K that resonate with me personally

(Your mileage may vary, my experiences are not universal, I recognize that some of this is kind of a reach etc etc)

The limiters

Saiki’s powers have grown too strong for him to control, and before the creation of his limiters they were out of control and causing a lot of damage. Some examples cited include accidentally destroying his house in his sleep and having telepathy that reached all over Japan (something I imagine was many many times more distressing [disabling] than his current situation) The limiters weaken his psychic powers and keep them somewhat in check. It’s not perfect, and he still does have problems, but the situation is much worse without them.

This reminds me of the medication I take to keep my immune system under control. Before I started it, my immune system (thanks to MS) was causing lots of issues for me: it took the vision in my left eye, made it difficult to walk and use my arm for a few months, caused horrible leg spasms, et cetera. My medicine helps keep things in check and hopefully prevents future damage... But nothing is perfect. Of course, it’s a monthly shot instead of silly pink balls on my head! So that's a plus 👍

The way he struggles to control his body after Nendo removed his limiter unexpectedly

After being hit with a shock to his system at the sports festival, Saiki struggles harder than usual to control his strength. We see him frustrated with this as he’s eating, his hand trembling as he holds his chopsticks. He tries to power through, but the issues don’t resolve.

I’m fortunate to usually be pretty functional most days (I do have my bad days though lol). However, when I go through significant stress - either mental or physical - it makes a lot of issues pop up that usually don’t bother me. Balance issues, vision stuff.. And hand tremors. Like, I was at a sushi restaurant after getting overheated at the pride festival last year struggling a lil with my chopsticks laughing at myself like “this is just like Saiki at the sports festival…”

Developing new powers unexpectedly

A major source of stress for Saiki is being unpleasantly surprised by a new psychic ability. In the series, we see this a few times. The most notable to me is the time leap ability. He wakes up having accidentally traveled 20 years in the past (soon after it is revealed that his limiter has a defective part). Afterward, we learn when he’s stuck in the time loops with Nendo and Kaido that this time leap ability has been coming back randomly since then “As unexpected and frequent as getting the hiccups”. He spends the entire chapter trying to get control over this ability so he can continue his day as planned. In another chapter, his limiter is malfunctioning and he develops a series of useless powers that he cannot control. Clearly, the limiters are preventing new powers from developing (see my first bullet point!!)

So, another thing about conditions such as mine is that you really can just wake up one day and have some weird symptom you’ve never heard of before! I remember not long after my first big attack I was at Walmart and I just noticed that my index finger was completely numb, and it stayed that way for weeks. One time, my upper lip twitched constantly for like a month straight. Of course, more than just the relatively silly symptoms can and do pop up like that, too. For example, I had these really scary, uncontrollable spasms on my left side (paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia) that happened several times a day for about a week. For a LONG time afterward I would be terrified of them coming back. It's still in the back of my mind but I'm not losing sleep over it anymore at least. Reading those panels above re: the time leap stuff reminds me a lot of that time!

Neuroplasticity and the power remover device

When Kusuke is explaining how the power remover works, he talks about how the brain rewires itself around damaged areas to compensate. The device is designed to more completely destroy the areas of his brain responsible for the psychic abilities. Of course, the device ultimately did not work permanently. The damage it did to his brain was quickly compensated for, and the abilities returned.

When small areas of the brain are damaged (such as… due to a neurodegenerative autoimmune condition), over time the brain can often restructure to work around it. It doesn’t mean that those areas are healed, and the process is often incomplete, but that rewiring can (completely or partially) restore abilities and function that was lost in the damage. They don’t say that explicitly in the series, but that’s surely what is happening to Saiki in the final chapters! Except, you know, in a magical shonen manga way.

Resistance to the idea of needing help

After Saiki uses the power remover device, he loses his abilities and is suddenly much weaker and less capable than he was before. He was used to being extremely independent, but this change has brought him to a place where he cannot do everything on his own anymore. In the library, he struggles to get a book off the top shelf and in the process is reminded of his new limitations. He says to himself “What am I doing…!? Just get used to it already!” After the bookcase is tipped over onto him and Nendo protects him, Saiki is upset about having to be protected when he never needed it before: “I’m so useless now…” Nendo helps him realize that getting help from others is normal.

Helping each other out is one of the most fundamentally important parts of being human, but it can be hard to accept that support sometimes. This is especially the case when you’re thinking about the prospect of needing more help than you used to. I'm fortunate to be relatively unaffected most of the time so far, but I'm still grateful for when the people I love are understanding and don't make a big deal out of it. I hate the idea of being burdensome so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope things don't get worse lol

Conclusion: Saiki is just like me for real and I'm DEFINITELY not projecting my own problems into him at all...

we're ignoring the 20k word fic I wrote where I blatantly projected my problems onto him for seven chapters

thanks @justmagicalgirl for encouraging me last week to post this 👍

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. iii

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.5 k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : I'M FINALLY UPDATING THIS HOLY SHIT i would like to thank stress and my manic episode for making me abandon sleeping at 4 am and just went nyoom with this

a/a/n : btw happy black day 🫶🫶

buy me coffee ?

The three weeks that passed after Wooyoung's incident was rather hard on you but it was severely... bland.

Mind you, there was nothing in particular that happened but between finding out you were pregnant with a child you didn't even know how your cheating husband would feel about and finding out the person your husband cheated with was his staff member, you couldn't tell if your morning sickness was mostly caused by your pregnancy or as a physical reaction to your current marital situation. Not to mention your daughter had been severely opinionated regarding your care of her father.

Despite everything, you still took care of Wooyoung well. That day you left after finding out that Wooyoung was with a bitch who had some audacity to make big claims about her status, and you came back not two hours later with Wooyoung's things. Upon your arrival, Wooyoung was visibly tense, as if he was being wary and you assumed that the nurse said something about the whore he was with not being his wife and he panicked because how was she supposed to know that? You didn't make things easier for him either when you showed up all calm and collected unlike how a wife usually would react upon finding out that her husband had been hospitalized. He knew how you would usually fuss over him when he was ill so your behaviour struck to him as abnormal and concerning. Or well, something to be concerned about, it's not like he would be concerned over you at this point, right? Though, you excused yourself as being out of it and he just bought the lame excuse. Luckily, his mom soon came and later when you brought your children to visit him, your behaviour became less of a concern and the next two days he was under observation went by smoothly.

But still, the turmoil you felt didn't die down, it stayed stagnant within you and you were at a point where you were feeling too much but couldn't exactly let anything out. Except for puking, that's non-negotiable.

"You need to check that stomach bug out," Wooyoung said as he poured himself a glass of coffee upon hearing your footsteps nearing the kitchen. You had gotten into the habit of ignoring him because you didn't know what you would do or say to him if you opened your mouth. So you simply let out a hum of acknowledgement, not even bothering to answer him completely, not after you just emptied your stomach. "Did you drink any wine last night?" Wooyoung asked, now leaning on the counter to look at you who had situated yourself on the stove to prepare your children some breakfast before they had to go to school. But of course, you simply shook your head whilst turning the electronic inductor on and placing a pan over the surface.

It seemed like Wooyoung had taken note of your odd behaviour and while normally you would be glad that your husband had taken interest in you, all you felt was just sick to the pit of your stomach. It was as if his attention no longer mattered knowing that he shared that with someone else. Someone who hadn't done anything for him for years only to be betrayed yet someone worth risking his marriage and vows to you for.

Wooyoung huffed and pushed himself off the counter to go over to you, leaning on the countertop close to you to take a good look at your face. "I'm worried. You seem like you haven't been yourself for quite a while now," boy did you want to whack him and claw his eyes out for saying that because how dare he act like he cared when you knew he had something going on with a cheap side piece. But you held it in as best as you could, balling your hands tight that the spatula in your hand almost snapped and just shrugged, "d'know what you're talking about," you muttered lowly, trying to avoid as much interaction with him as you could. With a sigh, Wooyoung tried to push some hair out of your face but for some reason your body moved involuntarily out of the way as if revolted by his touch which surprised Wooyoung who stood aghast, staring at you with wide eyes as you stared him back with nose twitching. Knowing you (ironically), you would not avoid his touch or act as if he was going to hurt you because (to his knowledge) he had never hurt you nor does he have shown any inclination that you should be afraid of him. Both of you just stood there in the kitchen, Wooyoung in surprise at your reaction and you in annoyance and once you finally took a good look at him, you glared at him in anger and boy did Wooyoung took notice of that.

"What?" He asked, stupidly, you might add. "What?" You answered back, returning to scooping breakfast to your children's plates. "Okay, sure, act like you haven't been avoiding me these past three weeks, (y/n). Did something happen when I was in the hospital?" yes, you got hurt but you were as fine as a peach because your mistress was there, "Are you mad that you had to take care of me these past three weeks?" no, but I am mad that your whore claimed to be your wife to the nurses and even had the gall to visit you while I was right there against my will, pregnant and all, "Did I do something wrong?" and that was when you snapped your head and crossed your arms at Wooyoung, "I don't know, Wooyoung, you tell me. Did you do something wrong?" though he wanted you to answer him, the tone of your voice surprised him greatly to the point that he straightened up. "Hm? Tell me Wooyoung, is there something you think that you know is VERY wrong that you wish to tell me right here right now?"

How you wished you had a camera to capture just how stupid Wooyoung looked. It was obvious to him, or made obvious to him, that you knew that something was up but there was no way Wooyoung could confirm that you knew that he had been cheating on you with his subordinate out of all people. As much as it was the most logical answer to your sudden hostility, Wooyoung didn't want to accidentally confirm his suspicion much to your dismay.

The moment he heard footsteps rushing to the kitchen was the moment Wooyoung believed that God existed because he knew the conversation was coming to an end. "Morning!" Woohyun chirped, throwing his book bag by the doorway before rushing to give you a hug, completely unaware of the tense situation or even the stare-off you were having with your husband. With one final glare, you shifted your attention from the cheating bastard Wooyoung to Woohyun, smiling to cover up your annoyance, "Morning Woodonnie," it had been a while since Woohyun grew out of his lisp phase but the nickname stuck and he liked that you had a special name for him, "Slept good?" he nodded with a wide grin, "Want food?" his grin widened and his nod was firmer. "Dayoung, do you want food?" you asked your daughter, who was too busy grinning on her phone to actually look at you, "Hey, Dayoung?" You called out again, sighing after carefully handing Woohyun his plate of eggs and half a toast.

Realizing that Dayoung was ignoring you, Wooyoung huffed and snatched Dayoung's phone, causing her to let out a 'hey!', "Your mother was talking to you, Dayoung," he stated, unimpressed with his daughter's blatant disregard for you (for once). Dayoung rolled her eyes and turned to you, "Yeah, I want breakfast, if not I wouldn't have come here now, would I?" Wooyoung was about to scold her but he was stopped when he saw you visibly gag, halting everyone's activities. Then you gagged once more before dropping the spatula on the counter and rushing to the toilet without saying anything else.

"She hadn't thrown up on those eggs, did she?" Dayoung asked, cringing at the thought of you doing something to her breakfast. Wooyoung snapped his head to Dayoung and glared at her, "Can you not? Your mom is sick and the last thing she needed was for you to act disrespectful to her," he scolded which surprised Dayoung because, to her knowledge, Wooyoung hadn't been that defensive of you for a long while.

"Is mom okay?" Woohyun asked, worry visible on his face and he was about to get off his chair to go to you when Wooyoung patted him on his head, "Don't worry about mom, okay? She'll be fine and she'll be even finer if she sees you eating," he smiled, trying to assure Woohyun which thankfully work as Woohyun began eating his breakfast with so much gusto Wooyoung had to tell him to slow down.

When Wooyoung got to you, you were getting out of the bathroom, looking pale and sweaty. He immediately approached you with a small towel he grabbed from the linen closet when he was getting to you, "Really, (y/n), you need to go to the hospital and get this checked out. I'll go with you today, okay? You definitely can't go anywhere yourself right now, I-" you simply snatched the towel from his hand and pat your mouth dry, refusing to look at him as you turned away, "I'm fine, Wooyoung, I can manage myself," it was the first time that you hoped he would just shrug and go back to not caring but of course, Wooyoung didn't come through when you desperately needed him to. Instead of leaving you be like you wanted, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders gently and turned you around, "(y/n), please stop being stubborn and let me help you, okay? You're clearly unwell and whatever it is, we can get rid of it and you'll be better!"

You knew that he didn't mean it like that because you knew that he didn't know about the growing person inside of you. But still, with your current state both physical and emotional, you were hurt and you couldn't help but think that his words meant that he didn't want the child that he helped create.

Balling your fists, you used the tension in your hands to stop yourself from rushing over and punching Wooyoung in the face. Instead, you pushed his hands off of you. "Like I said, I can manage myself. Shouldn't you be worried about work? You know, with people at work that you need to give more attention to?" you tried pushing past him to tend to your children but he effectively blocked your path with his body, frowning down at you, "What's with you? I'm trying to help here, (y/n), I'm worried about you!" "Well, maybe you've been ignoring me too much too long to the point that right now I'm so used to doing things myself without your help, Wooyoung. You've been very absent from me and I'm sorry to say this but it has come to the point that your presence is actually making me feel annoyed and I don't know if it was because of you in general or if it's because of this very uncharacteristic shift in your behaviour that's making me wonder if you're compensating for something or if you genuinely want to be there for me now."

Though you had managed to not physically hit him, your words stung worse than any slap you could deliver to him. Wooyoung was painfully aware of how distant he had been with you since your miscarriage and what he thought was his attempt to give you space had instead caused a rift in your marriage. He never meant for things to go this far, heck he never thought that he was capable of cheating on you but when another woman approached him when he was crying in the practice room to offer him a shoulder to cry on, he felt like his own pain was being acknowledged. After all, the loss didn't just happen to you, it happened to him too. While you were in your zombie state, Wooyoung manned the ship and put himself on the back burner, not even letting himself falter and stupidly not letting himself process the pain. He wasn't justifying his infidelity whatsoever, he knew that it was beyond wrong and he was disgusting for committing to it for so long. But it felt nice to let his vulnerability taken care of even if it ended up with him using someone he had no affection for as a mean to get some form of twisted connection because he was too ashamed of himself to touch you again.

Wooyoung stood there silent, not knowing how to react, or more like not knowing what to react to first. So you simply shook your head and walked past him, this time successfully.

Soon, Wooyoung heard Dayoung and Woohyun saying (yelling) their goodbyes which was then followed by the front door shutting.

When the silence of the empty house settled in on him, he found himself slumped on the couch, emotionless as your words kicked him all over. His chest burned with hatred for himself and his fingers became tingly from anxiety. He couldn't help but think of the ways he had failed as a husband and perhaps as a father considering how his daughter treated you. It dawned on him how mad he was when Dayoung disrespected you earlier, how he hated seeing you, who had always treated Dayoung with a lot of consideration, to be treated that way. And while he felt justified for chastising his daughter for her action, it was almost laughable how he didn't do the same when what he had been doing was a hundred, if not a thousand times more disrespectful. He was a hypocrite. You didn't deserve this.

Negative emotions welled inside Wooyoung, creating turmoil that almost made it hard for him to breathe.

Unfortunately, despite his realization, Wooyoung found himself driven to an action he had repeatedly done like a sick act of compensation when he was feeling bad. His hand fished the phone out of his pocket and his fingers moved as if on their own, immediately finding the contact that he didn't even bother to fake because he trusted that you wouldn't snoop because you were not that kind of a person.

"Hey, I know you're not busy until later in the evening, can I come?"

And the self-hate repeated itself.

But how much can he hate himself when he is being distracted by shallow, unfulfilling "pleasure" instead of dealing with his true feelings? How much more pain should he give you before he could finally take the first step to stopping and coming clean?

Maybe this was the last time he did it.

Maybe.

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[gassywill]

Camping Fart Slave Training - Part 1

I didn't want to go camping with Joeseph due to not wanting to be in an enclosed space with him for an extended period of time.

We had been friends since school, always around at each other's houses but recently Joeseph started to enjoy teasing me by being gross, farting around or sometimes on me, burping constantly and sometimes making me wake up with his shoe tied to my face.

However, nothing could prepare me for this.

I arrived at the campsite Joeseph stood there, his blonde scruffy hair blowing in the wind and his silky tracksuit bottoms and the tent that didn't look too big.

As I approached I could see the campfire on with a disposable BBQ cooking some burgers and sausages. I went into the tent and set up my side, there wasn't much room in the tent however as I moved something fell out of Joeseph's bag, what looked like a gas mask from the war...

"Mate what the f**k is this?" holding the gas mask in the air, "Oh that's for later don't stress man food ready" Joeseph replied with a beaming smile on his face.

Confused I finished getting sorted and headed out.

It was cold outside so we just sat and quickly ate, the food was lush. Unfortunately, the quiet location wed chosen was ruined by a large rumble in Joesephs belly then a huge fart erupting out of his ass.

He laughed as I companies about the smell, even outside it was putrid. "Don't do that in the tent man we will both die" smiling Joeseph responded, "Oh don't worry I have a solution for that".

I just laughed it off, we chatted some more but then it was too cold to stay out so I headed to the toilet while Joeseph got sorted.

I entered the tent to Joeseph topless, with his tracksuit bottoms still on and no socks, he was laying on top of his sleeping bag and was stroking his dick.

I laid down in my sleeping bag and zipped it up, shortly after a smell started to fill the whole tent, a rancid eggy smell from Joeseph ass.

"F**k man that's rank, you said you weren't gonna do this," I said while choking on the putrid smell that had filled our small tent.

At that very moment Joeseph sat on my chest, looking down at me he smiled and said "Ah yes the solution" he grabbed the gas mask I had seen before holding it up and inspecting it "You see, I want a fart slave full time as my gas has been getting so bad. So I thought you'd make a good candidate"

I started to struggle in the sleeping bag "Mate what?!? Please don't I can't take this anymore" As I finished that sentence Joeseph gagged me with one of his dirty socks. Ensuring I could no longer speak.

He placed the gas mask over my face, making sure it was airtight. He placed his hand over the filter of the gas making me squirm as I couldn't breathe and released it once I reacted "Ah good, no escape".

He then attached a specially fitted hose to the gas mask testing that the same way to ensure it was airtight. He then got off me, on his knees he turned round to show me a zip on the back of his tracksuit bottoms. He unzipped it and attached the other end of the hose to a specially fitted attachment.

The foul smell of his ass shot down the hose and into the mask, filling it within seconds of his musty ass smell.

He then got out some tape and taped it around my sleeping bag meaning I couldn't get out of it, secured into it and secured to his ass. I couldn't even move my hands out of the bag because of his tape.

"Ok, fart sniffer here is what's gonna happen, when we leave this campsite your gonna be under my control forever. You'll want to do nothing but inhale my gas". He said as he stroked my dick.

I thought to myself that it won't happen, how could I love and beg for his farts when they were so disgusting and made me feel ill.

"What I am going to do is make sure that every time I fart I stroke your dick, I want you to think of the pleasure you get down there every time I fart. I am going to make you cum from my gas"

I squirmed again and once tried to reason in my head what was happening. Then it his me, the foul stench, he had farted

I began to squirm from the stench that had begun to fill the mask until the hose started to vibrate and then the sound came to PPFFFRRRTTTTRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Oh fuck that felt good," Joespeh said as he laughed loudly "How was that fart sniffer," he said while stoking my dick which was soft.

I was squirming around, the tent shaking. Joseph laughed as he released silent farts continuously into the mask. This was hell.

[weirdo-fun]

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic. I don't know if this will be good at all or people will even like it. This idea has been in my head for a few months and I finally caved and wrote it. This will be a few chapters maybe 3 chapters long? I don't know but I hope you enjoy! Also side note grammar is not my strong suit, so if there are any grammar mistakes please be nice. :)

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 1.7 K

Warnings: Bickering, slight dislike of inner circle, slight enemies to lovers, fem! reader, reader being sort of a rebel

Author's Note: Was this slightly insipred by "What Else Can I Do?" From Encanto? Maybe... (I do not claim or take credit for the song, all rights for the song go to the respected owners)

Side Note: Azriel will come into the story later I promise.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” You ask Elain as you sit on in arm chair with both legs draped across one arm of the chair with your back leaning against the other one. The book you were just reading now lay on your chest as you look at Elain who is sitting, a lot more elegantly, on a sofa adjacent to you. You wait for her to answer as you give her a questionable look. 

She sheepishly looks up from her own book. “I don’t mind it. I know they only want whats best for me and to protect me.” You raise an eyebrow at her not entirely believing her. “Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that they practically tell you what you can and can’t do?” You ask, pushing the conversation more. 

These have been questions you have had for a while. Ever since you and Archeron sisters were thrown into the caldron and turned High Fae, everyone decided, weather subconsciously or not, to keep Elain in this sort of bubble. Treating her as this precious flower that needs all the protection from everyone. You never had any ill will towards Elain, she is a very feminine woman who does tend to be on the more soft spoken side, which is what makes Elain Elain. This is what gravitated you towards Elain and wanting to be her friend. Being a very outspoken and extroverted person you always tended to befriend the more quiet types. It has always been this way since you were a child. The extroverted girl talking and hanging out with the introverts. You don’t know why you subconsciously gravitated to being friends with the quieter crowd when you were the complete opposite. Maybe it gave balance in your life. You being the talker and the other one being the listener. You don’t know why or how but those friendships always worked out when you were mortal. 

That was true until you accidentally, more like breaking a rule, decided to take a stroll in the middle of the night throughout the Archeron estate. You were a newly hired servant and you were too excited for your new job that you couldn’t sleep so you walked around the estate and ended up in the middle of the crossfire of the Archeron sisters, Nesta and Elain, being kidnapped. You of course jumped in to help but ended up being taken as well. 

After being turned and by the grace of the Mother, the Inner Circle allowed you to stay even though you weren’t related to the Archeron’s. You were still turned fae and needed a place to stay. Although the healing process was slow and mostly done on your own you never thought the inner circle was completely bad.  

It wasn’t until Elain finally started to come around and was healing from her trauma when you decided to befriend her. You guys fastly became close. Mostly thanks to you for always seeking her out and wanting to strike up a conversation. From the outside it may have appeared that you kept forcing yourself in her life but Elain wouldn’t turn you away and she would start conversations a good portion of the time. But it was when you guys started to become close that you noticed the treatment that the inner circle gave her. You never said anything in the beginning thinking you were thinking too much into it. But after so many days, and even weeks of the same treatment that you were questioning everything regarding Elain. 

You have questioned Elain about this treatment but she would brush it off saying things like “oh well i don’t see a difference” or “it’s ok Reader they are just being friendly and making sure I am ok.” And you haven’t pushed Elain further until today. 

A certain bat boy got under your skin earlier. And to be frank, he actually has always gotten under your skin when it comes to Elain. He is the master of the “delicate flower treatment” towards Elain. This treatment would be cute if 1) he was courting her, which he isn’t and 2) if it was dialed waaaaay back and the treatments actually respected her as being a true adult woman and not a fragile little girl. 

Azriel, is the bat that gets under your skin. You have tried to be friendly to him but he never talks to you and you never know what he is thinking. His face, although you first thought very handsome when you first met him, is always expressionless and stone cold. You have tried to be civil with him but because of your outspoken and extroverted nature he mostly disagrees with you for the simple fact that he knows you don’t like how he treats Elain. You have confronted him before about the matter in a friendly way but he shut you out and blew you off saying how you don’t know anything about what Elain has gone through and you don’t know whats best for her. The whole interaction left your relationship with him strained. And since then both you and Azriel have been on opposite sides on everything. Both wanting to challenge each other and win; never seeing eye to eye.  

Elain sheepishly shrugs. “I don’t think they really do-.” “Girl, no they do.” You interrupt her sternly. She looks at the ground and her posture slouches a little and you can tell that she knows your right. That her sister, with Cassian, and especially Azriel treat her as a fragile little princess. That anything can break her. But she survived the Caldron, she survived her trauma from it. You know she is a strong woman and you try to show her that; try to show the inner circle that. “You know I am right.” You say in a firm way as you swing your legs from on top of the arm rest to sitting right in the chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. She looks at you with innocent and confused eyes. “Well, I don’t know what to say to them when they tell me what I can and can’t do. I just agree because I don’t want to create conflict with them.” She softens her tone at the end, getting shy and embarrassed. “But is that what you want?” You ask her straight in the eye. “To keep agreeing with whatever they say and tell you how to live your life? To not have an opinion or a say? Is that what you want?” You ask in a calm yet concerned manner. “Well, it’s just that-” “Is that what you want?” “Well no but-” “Is that what you want?!” “I can’t just-” “ELAIN! Is that what you want?!” You yell for a third time. Wanting to hear her true feelings, her true thoughts and opinions on the matter. With no bullcrap excuse about how she won’t mind for stupid reasons. And no running away from this conversation. 

“No.” She speaks so softly that you don’t hear it. “What?” You ask leaning into her to hear what she said. “No” Elain says. You hear it this time, but her head is down and her hair is fell in front of her face, not being able to see her. “Elain what did you say? I can’t hear you?” You lie to her to try and get her to voice her opinion louder and to lift her head up and say it more confidently. She slowly lifts her head, straightens her back and looks at you with truthful eyes. “No. That is not what I want.” She says without her voice wavering. “I would like to go out shopping when I want to go. I would like for them to tell me things straight up and stop carefully stepping around eggshells thinking I won’t be able to handle it, that I might break.” 

You smile at her. Proud that she was finally able to say what she was feeling out loud. You walk over to her and pull her up to stand and give her a hug. “That is all I wanted to hear you say.” You look at her proudly holding onto her upper arms. “But, I still don’t know how to tell that to them. You know it’s hard for me to voice my opinion.” You shake your head. “We will take this one step at a time. Step one was to get you to voice out loud to me what you actually want. And we did that, so congratulations.” You tease as you walk back over to the arm chair you were sitting at to pick up the book you were reading. “Well then what’s the next step?” Elain asks curiously. You smirk and turn towards her. She sees the smirk on your face knowing you are already planning something. Her eyes widen in concern because every time you had a plan it would always get you in trouble and Azriel would always be the one to scold you. But you keep doing these “plans” because you didn’t care what Azriel was going to tell you.

“Remember when you told me that you thought my power could do so much more, than make pretty plants and flowers?” You ask as you create just a simple pink rose on your hand. “Yes.” She nods, not knowing where this conversations was going. You smile, “Well, I have been secretly trying to practice to create new things but it’s hard when just in the confines on my room.” You hand her the pink rose that you just created. “Why don’t we take a walk through the forest. And maybe along our walk I try to practice without the worry of the inner circles eyes and ears.” You ask sheepishly. “Look I know this is supposed to be about you but I would just like to be with my favorite person in the forest exploring my power more without judging eyes.” You plead. Elain nods and gives a small smile. “Thank you Reader for wanting to help me. And if helping me also includes me being able to see your power that I am super jealous of by the way, then yes.” You smile at her, grab her hand and both of you guys start to giggle like little girls as you guys walk out of the living area planning to “sneak out”. 

That is it for Chapter 1! Did I also give Reader Isabela's powers?...Read the next chapter to find out! I am already thinking about chapter 2 and I promise Azriel and Reader will be interacting with each but I was setting everything up until then. But chapter 2 may take me while to publish because I am getting ready for my vacation but depending on how people react to this I may be motivated to publish it sooner. ;) Please if you have feedback leave a comment because I would love to read them. Thank you so much for reading and if you made it this far. Until next time, take care everyone!

[onebighappyaftonfamily]

FNAF Dashboard Simulator

🐊 not-coughin Follow

guys I hate living in hurricane utah. you will not believe what i just saw.

#cryptid sightings

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

Well? You cant just say that and tag it #cryptid sightings and not elaborate!

🕶️ cryptid_hunter Follow

Dont you know that Utah is full of cryptids man. They probably saw the Wire Monster

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

The what.

📸 Wire-Monster-Heritage-Posts Follow

Official Wire Monster Heritage Post

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

WHAT?

535 notes

🛼 he-was-a-rollersk8er-boi Follow

GUYS IM ACTUALLY ILL. I WENT TO THE SKATEBOARD PARK AFTER HOURS AND A GIANT METALLIC MONSTER GIRL ON WHEELS JUST INSULTED ME. AND THEN SHE DID THE TRICK I HAD BEEN PRACTICING BUT SHE DID IT BETTER

🛹 tony-fawk Follow

tfw you're so bad at rollerskating that your sleep paralysis demon shows up to outdo you

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PLEAAAAASE NO

89 notes

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We know what you did.

🌻 farmgurl1 Follow

This whole blog is giving ARG guys. But I googled the restaurant and it used to be a real place??? Someone pls explain

4 notes

⬜️ middle-of-nowhere-deactivated-02132022

GUYS I'm so scared for my life right now! bumped into his weird guy on the street and his hat fell off and his whole head was BALD AND PURPLE. like his skin was purple. And he smelled like roadkill. Did I just encounter a zombie?!

🎇 slaymechanic Follow

omg youre so rude! why are you demonizing that poor homeless man?! blocked

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OP makes me sick

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K

💽 foundfootagelvr3

U

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N

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G

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P

🐰 springbonnie-and-friends

O

87 notes

🔎 henry-emily-sightings Follow

Oh my god guys normally I just post about whenever this guy ends up on the news but I literally saw him IRL today! He's moved back to Hurricane Utah?! Oh my god!

🐻 fr3dbear_fan Follow

SAY SIKE RN HE SAID HED NEVER RETURN

🕵️ problem-sleuther Follow

you mean that guy who was arrested for killing a bunch of kids including his own daughter??? should we be worried

🔎 henry-emily-sightings Follow

Clearly you haven't done your research. It wasn't him. They're still not sure who the murderer was but a lot of online fans believe that the murderer might have been Henry Emily's co-owner and friend William Afton. Naturally the guy disappeared shortly after Emily's arrest. Right, @william-afton-sightings ?

🔍 william-afton-sightings Follow

The guy's a ghost. I've literally turned this blog into a search for the Vintage Spring Bonnie suit, seeing as it was what the murderer wore to kill the missing kids. It's also missing, btw. It was also the only suit William Afton would wear, and some reports say he didn't like it when employees wore his suit. I'm hoping if I look for the Vintage Bonnie suit, then Afton might be too.

🐇 bonnie_lvr Follow

I've seen a spring bonnie suit but it was probably a crappy cosplay or smth. horror attraction by my place is trying to make it freddys pizzeria themed (disgraceful)

🔍 william-afton-sightings Follow

I have literally never seen a cosplay of Spring Bonnie. DM me PLEASE

💽 foundfootagelvr3

WAIT BONNIE_LVR ARE YOU IN HURRICANE BECAUSE I SAW THAT PLACE TOO. OMG IS THIS WHY MR EMILY IS BACK?!

134 notes

🎬 vintage-show-polls Follow

🐊 not-coughin Follow

Ugh this is such a niche tv show all of you are just voting based on what you know of the animatronics, not the show. gtfo posers

💽 foundfootagelvr3

OMG PLEASE VOTE FOXY HES SUCH A FASCINATING VILLAIN PLS PLS PLS PLS FOXY SWEEP

459 notes

reminder this is unreality. go ahead and vote in the poll and click the link of that tagged blog tho

[live-laugh-lenney]

S I C K A R T H U R H E A D C A N N O N | A R T H U R T V |

** author note before you read; mentions of sickness, throwing up, and brief talks of drugs in the form of paracetamol **

-> yn knows. -> she just knows. -> arthur is very rarely ill, and yn envies that about him, so it knocks him for six when he comes down with any form of an illness and it's not difficult to see a change in his behaviour. -> and it goes both ways.

-> if a cold hits him hard, or the flu really knocks him down, he can barely stay awake. -> if he had any plans with his friends then she would send them a text to inform them that arthur probably wouldn't be able to attend whatever they had planned - whether it be filming for a new video, a podcast, or just meeting for lunch... -> 'georgey, arthur's pretty ill and i'm not waking him up to tell him he's gonna be late for you. just letting you know he probs won't be able to film with you today. sending apologies on his behalf. xx' -> 'Bless his cotton socks. hopefully this teaches him not to wear shorts and a t-shirt during a ChrisMD shoot in these current baltic conditions. But give him some smooches and cuddles from me. x' -> 'fancy coming over to look after him instead? i'm sure you fancy him more than i do... it's okay though. fess up and we can clear the air, clarkey. xx' -> when he does wake up, he doesn't even question the time. all he can think about is how rough he feels. -> he's alone in the bedroom. his phone is on his bedside table. and his alarm had clearly been turned off - which, really, he was thankful for because he definitely would have felt worse - and there's a glass of water with two tablets beside it. -> he knows that she knows he's ill. -> he wraps himself up warm; makes sure to put some warm socks on his feet, puts on a hoodie and pulls the hood over his head, he grabs the blanket from the bed to wrap around his shoulders and slowly walks into the living room. -> and she's decorated the living room for a cosy day spent inside; candles are lit and emitting smells he wish he could smell through his blocked nose, the tv has netflix launched up and ready for them to choose something to watch, the curtains are drawn closed and the sofa is turned into somewhere for them to lay on with everything (from chocolates and biscuits to bits of fruit to paracetamol and cold and flu tablets) on the coffee table and in arms reach. -> and they spend all day on the sofa. -> film after film after film, a nap in the mid-afternoon, watching tik-tok and showing each other silly videos they stumble upon and she enjoys having him to herself for the day and not sharing him with their friends and missing him due to his youtubing schedule. -> they order in take-away for a late dinner; a chinese because that's always their go-to meal when they can't be bothered to cook.

-> if its sickness that hits him then he really spends all day in their bed, closest to the bathroom, doing nothing but sleeping because his stomach is in knots. -> and she's there for everything that happens, even though he worries about her falling ill, instead of dealing with himself being so ill. -> "i don't want you to catch this-" -> "i'll be fine. if i catch it then you can look after me." -> "but it's horrible, lovie. i don't want you to have it." -> "i'm not going anywhere, arthur." -> "but-" -> "no buts, arthur. i'm choosing to look after you. i want to look after you. i'm staying out." -> she kneels behind him and she gives his hip or his knee a gentle rub every so often to let him know she's still there, sliding her hand round his middle and rubbing his belly in between retching and his skin is sweltering and he's sticky and warm. -> the only thing he can wear is boxer shorts because he feels hot and she's pretty thankful that the only thing she'd need to be washing is the bedsheets and dirty pants and no sick-covered pyjamas. -> she's rubbing his back as he throws up. -> she's wiping the sweat from his forehead with a damp flannel when he's done throwing up. -> she sits on the bathroom floor with him and lets him fall back against her once he tires himself out. ghostly white and covered in sweat. practically falling asleep from the moment his head his her shoulder and his face hid in her neck. -> he gets better through the day. drinking green tea and peppermint tea when he needed a drink, sipping on glasses of water, munching on dry toast and dry crackers and dry biscuits. -> she runs him a warm bath, sits with him to make sure he doesn't fall asleep and drop beneath the bath water, tells him silly stories that she has definitely told him before but he keeps asking for her to talk to him. -> and he sounds and looks drunk; slurring his words when he speaks, barely making sense to her, and his eyes are hooded and low and he has a tired smile on his lips. -> "jus' love listening to you talk, lovie. so soothing." -> "you're such a simp for me, huh?" -> "how can i not be? have you seen you?" -> "have you seen you? i should be the simp in this relationship." -> "m'so naked in front of you right now and you're not simping?" -> "i'm not looking, mister television." -> "i'd be looking at you, all the time, lovie." -> "you're just a little pervert, arthur. my little pervert."

-> she absolutely babies him when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he's sick. -> and he just lets her. -> usually, he doesn't like to be fussed over - he's always telling her that he's old enough to be able to do things himself and doesn't need other people doing things for him - but he doesn't have the energy to argue when he's ill. -> she's happy to look after him and he's happy that she's happy to look after him but, deep down, he just can't be bothered to argue with her. -> but he's appreciative of her. -> so appreciative. -> all the time, everything she does for him, he's so thankful.

[wrathofrats]

You are so real about more swiss angst

I think all the ghouls are so used to seeing Swiss as like this unmovable force. Nothing effects him and he’s always there for them, always ready to comfort or defend. It probably doesn’t help that he tries to suppress any negative emotion.

So the first time they need him hurt, emotional or physically it’s almost uncanny to them. Obviously they would help him they all care about him but seeing him like vulnerable scares them, they aren’t used to that. So for a moment they just don’t know what to do.

Oh I … yeah I went very very far with this one.

Warnings for suicidal ideation, mental illness, mentions of suicide methods and self harm methods. No descriptions, but it’s implied. Like Swiss doesn’t do anything it’s just mildly discussed. Hurt no comfort. Please if you’re sensitive to any of this then this fic isn’t for you <3

1.4k. Swiss has ideas he’s sure are a secret, mountain is desperate to help him.

—————————

Mountain is the first to recognize the pattern.

The ghouls are funny beings. Little is known about them, especially by the clergy. All knowledge mostly comes from old text books about religion that were purely guessing and any other research that the quintessentials and air ghouls could get done in their spare time while in the infirmary or the library.

Quirks about anatomy, behavior, how their different magics worked but there was a limit on knowledge beyond doing things that were cruel or unusual. So some questions were left unanswered.

Alpha and omega had been alive for longer than anyone knew possible. Hundreds of years in the pit that they barely remember combined with what they had topside and yet were more than likely not even close to being in the latest part of their lives, still thriving and able to work even as their hair grayed and their skin wrinkled on their topside forms. It was interesting to say the least. No known human methods being able to hurt ghouls, or at least in any lasting capacity that they knew of.

Mountain is smart, knows every ghoul like the back of his hand. Able to know what they’re thinking before they do most of the time.

Swiss had been distant. His dinner appearances were short and snipped, leaving food on his plate for dew and cirrus to fight over. It was always a word of just being tired and he would scarf down a sandwich later, even if mountain never noticed the amount of bread to go down by the next morning.

The bags under his eyes only deepend everytime mountain saw him. Dark purple like he only gets a couple hours of sleep every few days. Which in his defense wasn’t too abnormal, but usually he would crawl into bed with someone after a while to at least have some company as his thoughts raced. Mountain and cumulus always offered to stay up with him, even if he wasn’t going to sleep he didn’t need to be alone.

The other evidence was tricky, something mountain couldn’t exactly prove and when he tried to explain it to cumulus or rain both told him he was thinking too hard, looking for reasons to be so concerned so it was more justified, but there was a feeling he simply couldn’t shake.

He noticed lingering glances at things. The way Swiss looked a little too long for the tums when dew had asked him to grab him one, the way he seemed to stroke the leaves of the hemlock that grew in the greenhouse sometimes. Brushing his fingers over the leaves as if he was attempting to ingest it through touch alone even if he knew it was a stupid idea. Even Swiss’ razor had gone untouch for a while. His stubble grew, Swiss saying he just wanted to see how it looked even if mountain knew he hated the feeling of it being too grown out.

A part of mountain truly worried about exactly what he was up to. That one day he would walk in on a worst case scenario that even he couldn’t bring himself to bear thinking about.

To Swiss the ideation was a funny thing. Nothing he thought about was even promised to work. Not that he wanted it to. Or did he? Swiss didn’t know. In his mind he was half certain every method he had heard about on tv or the internet wouldn’t even work for a ghoul, so it was dumb to think about anyways even if the thoughts didn’t leave him. The itch to just …. Try,

Did he want this?

Does he know what he wants?

No. The answer to that was no, he was sure of that. Months of feelings he couldn’t quite place like his being was devoid of emotions at all, only feeling them adjacently when he thought he was expected to but, other than that? He doesn’t think he’s felt anything. It’s gross, like there’s a film on his skin that he can’t quite rid himself of no matter how hard he scrubs. A shadow, or fog that follows him, even if it sounds cheesy to him.

Sometimes he steals bottles he shouldn’t from the cabinet and places them on his bedside table, like he wants it to taunt him. He wouldn’t actually do it, he was pretty sure at least. Just enough to keep him on edge, enough to keep him cowardly.

Mountain is the first to say anything. Walking into his room one night while Swiss just holds them for the adrenaline rush.

He doesn’t panic. He can’t.

“Swiss” mountain breathes once he opens his door. Staring at the multi ghoul who looked like a child caught with a stolen chocolate bar.

“I wasn’t going to”

“I know, can you put it down?” Mountain takes a step towards him cautiously. It hurts, Swiss wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to. Right? He wasn’t. He swears. But the way mountain looks at him like he’s a wild animal or someone standing on the edge of a cliff is embarrassing. He’s fine, it’s not like that.

“I promise. I’d never”

Mountain creeps closer to him, still acting as if Swiss could be set off by a hair trigger.

“Swiss please, can I at least hold them for you?”

“Not like it would do anything. I’m a ghoul, sure I could down anything in that cabinet and I’d come out with a stomach ache and lecture from aether” Swiss mumbled to mostly himself. Mountain feels a pit in his stomach at the idea that Swiss had thought about this. Even if he already assumed that he did. He sits on the bed slowly, not trying to reach for the bottle yet.

“Just … please. For me. For now. Put them on the night stand, ok stardust?” Mountains tone was light as if he was talking to a child. Did he really not trust Swiss? He isn’t like that.

He wasn’t going to.

Right?

Whatever. Swiss slams the bottle onto his nightstand a little harder than necessary. He’s not a child. He can be trusted with .. whatever this bottle was. He didn’t care.

“Now what” Swiss asks, petulant. He hated acting like this. They know it’s not like him.

“What’s going on, you’ve been off for weeks”

“I haven’t been off. Maybe it’s just winter. I don’t know I’ll get over it” the sick feeling in Swiss’ stomach grows at the fact that mountains been watching him. He doesn’t need to be watched, he’s grown. Swiss is his own being and doesn’t need to be baby sat to make sure he’s getting all his nutrients like mountain is doing.

“I’m worried about you”

“Then waste your time worrying about something else. I’m not making you do it”

Mountain isn’t the angry type. Usually composed in any situation but there’s a different type of anxiety walking in on someone as important to him as Swiss holding a fucking bottle of pills acting like he’s fine. The jittery feeling in his nerves felt like it was trying to escape, tears pricking at his eyes.

“God fucking damn it Swiss” he started, choking on his own thoughts, “you’re not ok, why are you doing this? You promised you’d always go to someone if you needed anything”

“You can’t fucking save everyone mountain”

It’s gross. Childish and he knows it. The grime on his skin growing with every dumb insult and petulant impatient response he keeps firing like a cornered dog. Mountain can’t save him. He doesn’t need saving. He wasn’t going to do anything.

“Yeah but if I can’t save you than what am I supposed to do”

“What are you talking about? It’s not your job”

A dry sob racks mountain, even if he promised he would try not to do this. Not in front of Swiss.

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

“I wasn’t going to do it” Swiss tries again. He’s never seen mountain cry, at least not this hard. His voice stays eerily calm. He promises he cares. He does.

“The fact that it’s even an option is enough”

“It wouldn’t have worked. Even if I did it it wouldn’t have worked”

“I don’t care. I love you too much, I don’t care”

Mountain swiftly grabs the bottle, shoving it into his sweatshirt pocket to return to the cabinet downstairs. He returns to find Swiss rolled over to pretend to sleep, done with the conversion. He understands. He loves him and he understands. Mountain sleeps on the bare floor that night next to his bed. Just to be sure.

The next morning Swiss finds the cabinet empty. He feels embarrassed, ashamed of himself. There was no need.

He wasn’t going to do it. He swears. Right?

He wasn’t.