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[lifeforcemedbedsusa]

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[ironhusband]

“Did you join a cult since we last saw you?” They ask, fully knowing the last time they were all together, they had their own cult.

[atlantahyper]

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[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

[soggyriceee]

stress reliever - captain price

“yea just shut the fuck up and take it.” he would growl above you, your hair wrapped around his knuckles, his other hands fingers digging into you hip as he fucked you against his desk.

another failed mission, another dead recruit from lack of patience and carelessness. another stress add on. and the only stress reliever he had was you and your cunt.

of course whenever he called for you it was never to make love. no he wanted to abuse something. take his anger out on something. and you, one of three girls on the team, had exactly what he needed.

“you love me bunny, hm?” he would whisper, his eyes trailing to the door as he watched the shadows pass, pause, then keep walking again through his door cracks. “tell me you love me.”

of course, you would tell him you love him as his tip pounded right against your gspot, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the table, the beds of your nails turning white.

but the truth is, as much as it was a kink for him and he didn’t really love you, you couldn’t help but with your last encounters, actually begin to feel feelings for the old man.

now it was every young adults womams dream to be an older guys controversially young girlfriend, but the difference was that he wasn’t an actor or singer. he was your captain. and what you both were doing was absolutely illegal in every single book.

but the way his hands wrapped around your waist so perfectly, how your eyes looked at him so purely when he first saw you. how you whimpered out his name pathetically with each thrust he gave you.

his cock twitched inside you, his nose flaring as he tried to distract hos mind from wanting to cum so badly. he hadn’t even been inside you for 5 minuets at this point, and the first few thrusts were enough to get him off, pathetically pulling out and letting a small, almost impossible to hear whimper.

“all mine yes? this pussy is all mine?” he asked, pulling your hair back to make contact with your eyes. “a-all yours captain.” you whined, your right hand frantically looking for the hem of his boxers. “mhm.. who’s cock are you only allowed to cum on hm? tell m-me.”

his hand slipped from your hip to your throat, gripping it as ypu choked out his name. “again.”

every time you told him his name, he’d push all the way inside your squishy hole. his cock was wet with a mix of you and your cum, two orgasms of yours coating his cock right now.

“q-quit. quit leave here.. i’ll t-take care of you.. let me make you a… a mommy.” he panted, his eyes dilated and thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. “ w-what?”

before you could say much more or move more, he shoved your head to the desk, his cum shooting deep into your pussy as his toes curled against the carpet floor. he chanted your name, a long shiver running through his body as he gave on last thrust into you.

the next day he actually avoided you at all costs, making you actually sick to your stomach. and of course there was nobody you could tell about this or you’d have to really leave. so, you took a plan B from the camp med center and returned the energy captain price was giving you.

sorry for the super angsty endings yall. i think it adds some spice to ze story

[zegrasdrysdale]

Heyyy could I ask for an Ethan Edward’s fic where him and the reader have been together for about a year and a half or something and she unexpectedly goes into labour at the frozen four game, neither her nor Ethan had any idea that she was even pregnant.

[ a tiny surprise ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan’s girlfriend has to leave the Frozen Four game versus Boston College because she’s having intense cramps, but the biggest surprise of all time waits for her and Ethan when she gets to the hospital

warning(s) : labor and cramps, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of period

author’s note : i thought this would be a good request to tackle since it’s mother’s day. so anon and everyone, enjoy !! <3

༺═──────────────═༻

From the moment she woke up that morning, she’s been cramping. It wasn’t any worse than her normal period cramps so she took some medicine and went on with her day. There was some pain in her lower back though. She wasn’t worried that it was something else. Sometimes there is some back pain when she’s dealing with period cramps.

They eventually got to a tolerable level where she wasn’t curled up in bed anymore so she got ready for the Frozen Four game that Ethan and Michigan are playing in that night. She throws on the jersey that Ethan left for her, drawers a ‘73’ on her cheek right under her eye, then heads down to the lobby where she’s meeting the other girlfriends so they can head to the game together.

For a moment in the elevator, it feels like her uterus is stabbing her right in the gut. She winces and doubles over in pain with a hand flat on the wall. She lays a hand on her stomach and breathes out until the cramp passes. Sometimes they get painful like this.

Hopefully one of the girls has some medicine she can take in a little bit.

Once she gets to the lobby, the girls pile into the bus that they rented as a group since the boys had to go to the arena early. She sits with her arms crossed over her belly because the cramps are stronger than normal.

Rutger’s girlfriend, Kayleigh, sits next to her as the bus pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “Hey, are you okay?” she questions as she lightly rests a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t look very good.”

“I don’t feel very good,” she admits with a light laugh. “I think my uterus is trying to kill me or something. I’ll be okay for the game.”

Kayleigh laughs. “Oh, I get it,” she replies. “I have Advil in my backpack if you need it. I can grab you a drink so you can take the meds too.”

“Thanks, Kay,” she says with a small smile. “Mind if I take some now? I’m really hurting.”

She nods and grabs the bottle of Advil out of her bag. As soon as the pills are in her hand, Kayleigh grabs her small water bottle and lets her take a sip to take the meds.

The ride to the Xcel Energy Center seems like an eternity because of how much pain she’s in. She’ll just have to push through the pain until after the game because she just wants to support her boyfriend in one of the most important games of his life. The Frozen Four games are always important games. She wants to be there for him.

When the bus arrives to the arena, the girls walk inside together. There is a half hour until puck drop so the boys are probably warming up on the ice. Or they’re about to start warming up.

She sits in a seat until the boys start warming up. Even after the medicine she took, it feels like the cramps are getting worse and closer together. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Ethan would’ve understood if she told him that she wasn’t feeling good. She would’ve watched on the television in the hotel room.

As soon as the boys come out for warmups, she stands up and cheers with the other girls. Ethan skates by and she bangs on the glass, trying to keep a smile on her face despite her insides trying to kill her. Ethan looks at her with a smile on his own face as he warms up.

Then it feels like someone kicks her in the gut. She cries out in pain and wraps an arm around her stomach. Kay is right at her side. “Sit down for a second,” she orders. “I don’t think standing helps cramps. The Advil should kick in soon.”

“They’re never this bad,” she says. Her voice is so shaky. “I’ve taken so much medicine. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

There’s banging on the glass in front of her. She looks up and sees Ethan. “What’s wrong?” he shouts. His voice is able to carry over the glass because fans are still making their way to the ice from the concourse.

Kayleigh taps her stomach in response to Ethan. “Bad,” Kay yells back.

“I’m fine,” she reiterates. “Meds just need to kick in.”

“Are you sure?” Kay asks. “I don’t think he’ll be mad if you need to go to the hotel, or the emergency room since I think every urgent care in the area is closed now.”

She looks up at Kayleigh and Ethan. “The emergency room?” she questions. “They’re just really intense period cramps.”

Ethan points up the steps. “Go to the ER, baby,” he calls. “It’s okay. I know you’ll be watching.” With a frown, she shakes her head. “Please. You’re never in this much pain. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

Kay helps her stand up even though she doesn’t want to go. “I have her, E,” she calls. “Can you tell Rut?” Ethan nods.

He holds up half a hand heart. She holds the other half up before she and Kayleigh slowly make their way up the steps.

As soon as they’re on the concourse, another more painful cramp hits her. Her entire body shakes with pain and she groans. “Kay, hold on,” she begs. “I can’t-”

Something starts dripping down her leg, wetting her leggings. Confused, she looks down and sees a puddle at her feet. It’s clear fluid. She looks back up at Kayleigh.

“What is that?” Kayleigh asks.

“I don’t- ah!” she cries out in pain again. Her legs almost give out and Kayleigh has to hold her weight.

“Okay, I’m calling an ambulance,” Kayleigh explains as she sits her friend against the wall. “You’re in too much pain to walk and clearly something is very wrong.”

She nods as Kayleigh dials 9-1-1 and tells them what’s going on. Her entire body shakes and she has to curl up in a ball to elevate some of her pain. Some of the medical staff has come over to her to try and help. She’s in too much pain to speak.

When paramedics do arrive, Kayleigh manages to let her go to the hospital with them. She also has to do some begging, and she mentions that their boyfriends are on the ice at the moment and there is no one else to go with her.

She’s given some morphine on the ambulance, but it doesn’t do much. The ride is shorter than the ride to the arena from the hotel.

When she gets to the emergency room, they do an exam. When they poke at her stomach, they decide to do an ultrasound because of how ridged her torso is.

The doctor comes back with the machine and puts some of that cool gel on her belly. She grips Kayleigh’s hand as another cramp hits. She bites her lip and winces in pain.

“Miss, did you know you are pregnant?” the doctor asks after a moment.

Her eyes widen. “Pregnant?” she questions. “There’s no way. I still have a period and I never gained any weight. I have no belly.”

The doctor turns the screen in her and Kayleigh’s direction. On the screen is a full term baby. “That’s your baby,” the doctor explains. “And this baby is coming in the next hour or so. Your water has broken, which is what happened at the hockey game.”

“My baby,” she echoes. She blinks and begins to panic. “I have a baby? Oh my God. Ethan has no idea and he’s on the ice.”

Kayleigh asks, “Do you want me to call someone to get him so he’s here?” She nods. Kay disappears a second later to make a phone call.

As the doctor wipes away the gel, she says, “I’m going to get you admitted to the maternity ward and into a labor suite.”

“How is this possible?” she questions as the doctor pulls the jersey back down. “I mean, I had no idea. No signs.”

“It’s rare but it might be because you have two uteruses,” the doctor explains. “One continues to have a period and the other holds the baby. I don’t know why you didn’t show but it happens sometimes. Most women have a belly, some don’t show much or at all.” She puts away the wand and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

She nods and rests her hands on her belly. Somehow, there is a baby in there. She had no idea that she was even pregnant. Neither did Ethan.

He’s going to be in for the biggest surprise of his life in a few minutes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She has never screamed more in her life than she has in the last hour. Her contractions, not cramps, are intense and close together. This baby is coming, and Ethan isn’t here yet.

Kayleigh got a hold of someone, who got a hold of Naurato, who told Ethan what was going on. He said he was leaving as soon as he could, but he’s still not here.

“Where is he?” she cries out as she feels a contraction. “I need Ethan. Now!”

“He’s on his way,” Kayleigh tells her. “He left during one of the TV timeouts. He should be almost here.”

Her OB is checking to see how many centimeters she’s dialated. “Okay, you’re ten centimeters,” she explains. “I can wait a few more minutes but this baby is coming.”

Another contraction and she screams. She grips Kay’s hand so hard she’s afraid she might’ve broken her hand. She feels bad but she needed something to hold.

“I need to wait for my boyfriend,” she pants as soon as the contraction passes. “Please.”

Her OB nods and leaves the room. She looks up at Kay. “Let me go see where he is,” Kayleigh tells her. “Give me literally ten seconds and I’ll be right back, okay?” She nods and breathes.

Kayleigh walks out of the room and she looks out the window. Looking outside helps her stay calm sometimes, even when she’s in sudden, active labor with a baby she didn’t know she was carrying.

Another contraction hits and she takes deep breaths. The door opens a second later and she’s ready to beg the doctor to wait for Ethan when she sees her boyfriend running in the room. He’s still in full gear, minus his helmet and skates. “Oh my God, baby,” he gasps when he sees her on the bed. “How is this-”

“I have no idea,” she replies as Ethan presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “All I know is that in a few minutes, we are going to have a baby. I’m scared.”

Ethan grabs her hand and kisses it. “I’m right here,” he assures her. “I’m right beside you through this, okay? I love you and I love our little baby even though neither of us knew.”

Her OB comes back in as she nods. “Are you dad?” her doctor asks. Ethan nods in reply. “Great. We need to push on the next contraction, okay?”

She grabs Ethan’s hand and sits up a bit. As soon as the next contraction hits, she pushes as hard as she can. She screams in a lot of pain since it feels like her body is tearing in two. Ethan has a hand on her back and helps her out. Kayleigh stands on her other side as she pushes.

When she takes a break from pushing, she looks at Ethan. “How are you guys doing?” she questions. “Are you winning?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s fine,” he tells her. “I’d rather be here with you. The guys told me to be here with you when Naurato told me what was going on.”

“Full hockey gear,” she teases him.

“I needed to be here for the birth of our baby,” he replies with a smile.

She smiles right back, but it’s short lived as another contraction hits. She pushes more. Her OB tells her to push a little longer.

Then the sound of a baby crying fills the room. She feels almost immediate relief between her legs a second later. She slumps back against the pillows as the doctor stands up with a baby in her arms.

“Congratulations, mom and dad,” she says with a smile. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”

She smiles at the crying baby as he’s handed to her. “Hi, baby boy,” she laughs. “You were quite the surprise.”

Ethan is given the chance to cut the umbilical cord and is right beside her. He puts a little blue hat on the baby’s head as he stops trying. She gives the baby her finger and he seems content.

The OB cleans her up a bit then takes the baby to clean him up. Her eyes never leave her son. “E, we don’t have a name for him,” she realizes out loud.

“We don’t have to think of one at this moment,” Ethan tells her. “I mean, up until an hour ago, we didn’t even know about him. I think we can take a day or two before we name him.”

She nods as her son is handed back to her. The OB leaves the room. Kayleigh snaps a picture of the three of them and says, “Sending this to Rut so he can show the guys. I think they’ll want to know that a future hockey star was just born.”

Ethan laughs and Kayleigh leaves the room to give them a moment alone with their baby boy. She caresses her son’s cheek and tears up.

“I already love him,” she admits. ��This is our son, Ethan. We have a baby.”

He kisses the side of her head. “You’re gonna be the best mom,” he tells her. She looks up at him. Ethan wipes away the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “We’re going to be the best parents. The team is going to spoil him so much.”

“So are we,” she laughs as she looks down at baby boy Edwards. “We have nine months of lost time to make up for since he decided to be a little surprise.”

Ethan laughs and gives his son one of his fingers. “We do.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[rosyhoneydew]

Bucktommy sickfic | G | 722 words

When Evan sits up around 5:50 Tommy knows he's given up on trying to fall back asleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so, and trying his best to muffle the sounds of his coughing in the pillows, with little success.

Tommy rolls over and leans up on an elbow, rubbing at Evan's back. He's got a faraway look on his face like his head's feeling slightly fuzzy.

"You feeling okay?"

Evan sniffles and clears his throat lightly. "Yeah." It comes out like a croak and Tommy winces in sympathy. His voice sounds raw and creaky, and not just because it's the first he's spoken all morning.

This isn't really a surprise. Chim had warned the two of them about cold and flu season starting up at Jee's school - not that it ever really ended - so they'd known they were bound to pick up something with all the baking they'd been doing together. Tommy can't wait to have kids, hopefully someday soon, but the germiness will take some getting used to.

Tommy gets up fully, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He moves to head out into the hallway.

"I think I've got some NyQuil still, it's the capsules though… you're good with swallowing pills, right?"

"Uh, wait, that'll just-" he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. It's dry, but it sounds painful. It's the kind that takes him a minute to get under control again. "That'll just make me more tired," he gets out eventually. "I've got a shift in a few hours."

Not like this, you don't.

"Evan…"

"Tommy," he throws back, petulant.

He and Evan have been together just under a year now. They've been living together for 3 months. They've said 'I love you' and talked about marriage; and if there's any one thing Tommy has learned in this time, it's that his boyfriend wouldn't willingly take a day off work if he were on his deathbed.

He sighs and pauses in the doorway. "Alright, why don't you call Bobby when he's up," he suggests. "See what he has to say about you going in this morning. I'll get you some medicine in case you change your mind."

"Fine," Evan concedes the point, reaching for his phone.

Tommy shakes his head, smiling a little at Evan's stubbornness. He makes his way to the kitchen, snaps off a packet of the blue gel-filled pills, and fills a glass with water from the fridge. It's still dark out, but it's starting to get the kind of green-gray hue of morning light, so he takes just a minute to peek out the window at it.

He's still standing there when he hears footsteps plodding behind him. He gets about a twenty-second heads up before Evan thunks his head onto the center of Tommy's back.

"You get a hold of him?"

"I'm not even that sick," Evan groans. He follows it up with a large, wet sniff that betrays his statement.

Tommy hums and reaches back to thread his fingers in Evan's hair, twisting his head to lay a quick kiss on his temple, contagion be damned. His skin feels hot and Tommy revisits his task of getting some meds in him to break the mild fever and hopefully let him get a little more rest. Thankfully, with the hopes of work dashed, he swallows them down without complaint, nibbling on a few crackers to settle his stomach too.

"Go lay back down, sweetheart, I'll be right there," Tommy says when he's finished.

Evan grumbles a bit but heads back to the bedroom. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and still soft-looking from bed. Tommy can't help but get distracted watching him. There's a fondness that's been present in his chest since they first got together, and it swells in him now. It's almost alarming, the way that it can take his breath away in these moments. Once he hears Evan settle back into bed he shakes himself and clears the counter.

When he enters the bedroom he finds Evan asleep already, snoring softly. He can't help but drop another kiss on his sweaty forehead, thinking of how lucky he feels to be the one caring for this man. In sickness and in health, he thinks and slips under the covers.

-

Happy first day of November! My goal this month is to write at least 2k words every day, so here's the first 700+ I wrote: a teensy tiny BT ficlet.

[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!)

[lifeforcemedbedsusa]

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[pubbybutch]

Clit Warming with Abby

Length: 850-ish words

Synopsis: Abby helps you relax in a new way after a hard shift in the med bay. It’s pretty much just fluffy clit warming drabble…

CWs: Oral (R! Receiving), No use of Y/N, Cute Nicknames (sweetheart, sweet girl, baby), Spooning, Slight Somnophilia, Consent checks

*requests are open atm*

NO MINORS, MEN OR CUNTS 💚

(This is to keep anyone waiting on the next Chapter of the Twilight AU sedated while I do some extra editing and get stuff beta read.)

You come into your room at the stadium after a long shift on medical watch and Abby is cleaning her boots at your table, her eyes meet yours and she's instantly at your side holding you into her chest with firm arms holding you so tight. Little 'oh baby's and 'easy, sweetheart's come flooding from her mouth as she carries you move to the bed set up in the corner of your studio apartment.

She holds you so tight, the best big spoon with her strong arms around you, her body heat pushing you toward a sleepy half-wakened state. As you relax she moves you so that you're laying on your back with her leaving soft open mouth kisses as she moves down your body.

She unbuttons your jeans and moves the denim down your thighs, scraping her short nails down the soft skin as she does, your skin becoming rough with goosebumps as the cool air meets the newly revealed flesh. A single thick finger travels over your underwear tracing the outline of your labia, Abby pulls away from kissing your chest and leans into your shoulder and whispers, "Can I taste you, baby?" You nod. She prompts you again. "Words, baby. Use your words."

"Please Abs, I want you to touch me."

And she does.

Swift movements that send your head reeling, your legs are lifted up and thighs now lay spread across broad freckled shoulders. A hand instinctively goes to the roots of Abby's braid, you can feel each little bump that makes up your woman's signature hairstyle, you count them ‘one, two, three, looped. One, two, three, looped...' the counting keeps you grounded.

"Abby- wait!" You pull the rope-like hair, snatching her away from your soaked center. “Yeah, baby? What's wrong?” Her panicked eyes instantly cause you to smile, she cares so much for you and that's evident by her expression, ever so evident.

"I don't want... you to go inside right now?"

"Oh? Do you want me to stop?" Her head rests against your thigh, as blue eyes look longing into what feels like your soul.

"No!" A smirk comes to her lips as the refusal rushes from your mouth. "I want something, but I don't know what exactly... is that weird?"

"Not at all... how about we try something different?"

"Different how?" Your eyes sharpen and eye her with suspicion.

"Different as in, you just put your clit in my mouth."

"We do that anyways?"

"No it's more like, I hold it in my mouth and just keep it there, keep pressure on it and keep it warm and cozy for you?”

The idea is... odd to say the least. "It sounds-"

"You don't have to say yes if you don't wanna try," she interrupts you, almost as if it's natural instinct to reassure you, "I read it in a book a couple weeks back and I thought that maybe-"

“Abigail.” She comes to a screeching halt. “I would like to try, if you'd like to as well?"

A happy little smile graces her face as she nuzzles into your thigh, dropping back down to her previous position Abby settles between your legs properly.

Thick fingers spread your lips with gentle, loving care and she leans in, her nose bumps up against your clit and the scorching heat of her mouth meets the bundle of nerves and she sucks in. The pressure that she applies to your clit is strange, you keep waiting for her to flick her tongue to tease you, but it never comes. Abby stays perfectly still.

As strange as the sensation is, that feeling of softly applied pressure with no movement or other variation, you find the intimacy nearly overwhelming. Blue eyes are meeting your gaze as you try to stop your eyes from closing. Abby can feel herself getting wetter and wetter as she sees how relaxed you’re becoming, all because of her and that lesbian porno novel she found.

With your clit held safe and tight in her warm wet mouth, a wave of heated drowsiness hits you as you jolt up a few times catching yourself before you fall asleep. But in spite of your best efforts, sleep eventually comes upon you.

Abby doesn’t notice initially that your breathing has evened out in your sleep, so wrapped up in keeping you and your sweet bundle of nerves content. When she feels the hand on her head go slack, freeing her braid from your grasp, she pulls away. A long string of saliva attaches the two of you as it stretches between her lips and your lower ones. She breaks the string and sits back up on her haunches before slipping her way up to be your big spoon once again. With an arm around your waist and the other supporting her head, Abby leans into your ear. With a quick chaste kiss to the skin behind your ear, she whispers, “thank you sweet girl.” She settles behind you and quickly follows your lead and joins you in peaceful, content dreaming.

[orphicdreamers-wp]

It’s Not Christmas Without You— Quinn Hughes

Summary: Your seasonal depression gets the best of your relationship leading to an awkward Christmas

Content Warnings: Seasonal depression, panic & anxiety attacks, use of antidepressants, ocd, chemical imbalance, angsty hughes brothers

Pairing; Ex Gf! Reader x Quinn Hughes

September

You had never quite understood why your brain felt so hardwired to the point you couldn’t comprehend anything happening around you. It affected everything you did, but no one could put their finger on why sometimes things got to be much for you it brought you to tears. For the most part, your boyfriend Quinn tried to help you but when the weather in Vancouver shifted just as he’d been named captain. He just couldn’t do it anymore, he tried but it was draining him.

You sat cross legged in the center of Quinn’s living room, reorganizing his CD collection for the third time this week. Quinn sighed as he entered his apartment, coming home from a rough roadie, all he wanted was to take a scorching shower and talk to you while you guys laid in his bed watching a cheesy movie. He didn’t utter a word as he walked past to his room and dropped his stuff off before returning to his living room and letting out a sigh, “The CDS haven’t magically moved since Tuesday dollface.”

You ignored your boyfriend, again. Quinn blew out a breath he’d been holding in for god knows how long, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He expected you to protest against him trying to break up with him, but you didn’t. Which somehow made Quinn more upset at the entire ordeal, “So your fine with just throwing away the last 6 years?” You kept quiet, knowing that if you dared to speak you would say something that you and Quinn couldn’t come back from. So you stayed silent as you stood up and slipped on your shoes and grabbed your coat and walked out of Quinn’s apartment and his life.

You returned to your shared loft with your friend Tess and finally let your composure fall. A wretched sob ripped through your chest as you leaned against the door and slid to sit against the wall. Tess hurried out of her bedroom and was at your side in seconds, “Oh honey. It’s okay.” You felt like someone was wrapping barbed wire around your throat, “I can’t, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something isn’t right Tess.” Your breathing began to quicken as your chest tightened. Tess rubbed your back reassuringly, “I got you.” You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. Once you were calm you turned to Tess, “Quinn and I broke up. I think I need to go home and get help.” And that was exactly what you did.

You went back to Toronto and moved back into your childhood bedroom, went to a neurologist and found out that your brain had an insufficient amount of neurotransmitters which could play part in your moods. The doctor told you that you needed to boost your serotonin and dopamine levels and prescribed you antidepressants and referred you to a women’s mental health clinic. You noticed slowly that your mood became less negative and you were able to focus better. But you also noticed that you began to get thinner and no matter what you did it never seemed like you gained weight.

December

You were reluctant to go to the Hughes Christmas dinner, although Ellen had reassured you that you were more than welcome. You still had your bad days and didn’t know if being around Quinn would make you snap and you didn’t want to snap at him. So you told your mother you’d think about it but that she should go. Which she did. You mother and Ellen were in grossed in a conversation over linens when Luke finally mentioned you, “So I guess she really doesn’t have anything to say to you Quinn. She would never miss out on Dad’s meatballs.” Quinn shot his brother a glare as your mother spoke softly, “She’s just having a hard time right now, her meds are messing with her.” Ellen smiled solemnly, “How is she adjusting to her antidepressants?”

Quinn looked taken aback learning your on antidepressants now, “Is she okay?” Your mom smiled as she lifted her wine glass to her lips, “Her doctor told her she doesn’t have sufficient neurotransmitters and it’s a chemical imbalance in her brain that’s made her feel like this all these years. The doctor said there’s a good chance coupled with the harsh weather and seasonal depression that’s what made her feel so poorly. Nothing you could have done would have helped Quinn.” Jack rolled his eyes subtly, “So because she’s mentally not okay, we’re supposed to be fine with her destroying Quinn?” Ellen glared at her middle child, “Jack! If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say sit.”

You stared at the stack of wrapped gifts you had gotten for each member of the Hughes family. You sighed as you slid off the couch and pulled on a dark red sweater and some jeans and took the gifts to your car and made your way to the Hughes family home. You were unsure of what would happen when you walked in but you were facing your fears today. You rang the doorbell, not expecting Quinn to be on the other side of the door.

His eyes held an unreadable expression that you had grown to miss. You were almost positive that you had lost your voice when he spoke, “Hey.” You smiled, “Hi, you look uh great.” Quinn rubbed his neck as a deep blush rolled over his cheeks, “Thanks. You do too.” He took some of the gifts as you I walked inside the house and placed your gifts with the rest of the gifts under the tree. You slipped your coat off and hung it in the closet with the others. Quinn frowned ever so slightly when he took note of how the jeans that had once hugged your body in all the right places were loose on you and how you looked at him like you might break if you looked at him long enough.

Ellen’s voice rang out from the dining room, “Who was it honey?” You smiled warmly as you entered the dining room behind Quinn, “Hi.” Ellen’s eyes glimmered with excitement as she hopped up and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “We’re so glad you could make it after all. Right guys?” The Hughes men muttered out agreements. You sat down at the only empty seat which, as the universe was punishing you, was directly across from Jack with Quinn sitting beside you. Conversation flowed between you and everyone besides Jack and Quinn.

Jack spoke up in condescending tone, “So Y/N what have you been up to since you and Quinn broke up?” Jack let out a groan as Quinn swiftly kicked him underneath the table. You felt your smile drop, “I moved back home like 3 days after. I’ve been getting a lot of help. Working on understanding my feelings.” Jack hummed, “Seeing anyone? You sure are slimming down.” You tensed as you drew in a deep breath, “Nope. Wouldn’t be fair to a poor guy. I’m still in love with someone and I’m not sure relationships are for me. But can we just talk about your game against the Red Wings? I mean I was on my seat the entire time.”

Jack’s smirk fell, “You still watch my games?” You shrugged, “I watched Trev kick your ass. I also watched Quinn hand the Sharks the biggest loss. I didn’t stop watching hockey because I got broken up with.” You melted into Quinn’s touch as he placed a hand on your thigh. He mouthed inaudibly, ‘Thank you’ Dinner ended and Ellen insisted on going straight to presents. You smiled warmly as Jack and Luke opened their gifts from you. You You played more into a joke with Jack. It was a shirt that read ‘Straight Outta The Penalty Box.’ Jack’s gift sent his brother’s into laughter while Jack sent you a playful eye roll, “Now I know she actually watches my games still.” Luke’s gift seemed to be more fitting for him, he opened the box and ran his fingers over the soft tie that was adorned with red hockey sticks, “Thank you.” You smiled as Quinn picked up his gift from you, “I didn’t know what to get you so with my luck you’ll probably hate it.”

Quinn opened the box and his eyes softened as he looked at the gift, “You remembered. Why would I hate this?” He pulled out the large cooling weighted blanket. You barely remembered him mentioning wanting one. Apparently your subconscious remembered. Quinn’s eyes softened as you began to tidy up the wrapping paper as everyone continued to open gifts.

Without being noticed Quinn slipped into his childhood bedroom and opened his bag and pulled out a small gift wrapped box. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the living room. His eyes immediately were on you as you clasped a necklace around his mother’s neck. Soon enough all the gifts were opened and Quinn spoke warmly, “I actually have a gift for you Y/N.” Your eyes widened, “O-okay.” Quinn slipped the small box from his pocket and placed it in your hand. By the size alone you knew it was jewelry of some sort.

You opened the box and your eyes widened and swelled with tears, “You can’t. Not with how horrible I was to you.” Quinn shook his head, “No I can. I have loved you since I have known you. I don’t care if your going through the worst thing possible. I love you and I just wanna be there for you no matter what. For the rest of my life. I want to be your husband. Marry me.” Your eyes welled, “I don’t know if I can give you the life you want Quinn.” Quinn shook his head as he pulled you closer to him, which you didn’t think was humanly possible, “The life I want is waking up to you pressing your ice cold feet to my legs to warm them up, the life I want is holding your purse so you can stop and pet every stray cat you see. The life I want is anytime and everything as long as you are there. You are the one good thing in my life.” You sniffled, “Fine I’ll marry you.”

[pablitogavii]

Cumple❤️

“Feliz cumple cuñadoo!!” Two little girls jumped in Pablo’s lap hugging him tightly and you giggled taking the photo they asked for.

“Ai cariño..look at the cake!” You show him his own pictures on the cake and Pablo smiled at you nodding his head trying a little bit of the frosting.

“Not before pictures chaval!” His mom said and all the women agreed while the med laughed at our silliness.

“Alright, let’s sing the song papi” Aurora said and everyone started singing to very red faced Pablo who didn’t particularly like being a center of attention.

After everyone’s applause, he was the first to break the silence “can I eat my cake now!?” He said as everyone laughed.

“Feliz cumple querido mio..Siempre mamás bebé” Belen kissed his cheeks smiling at Pablo who hugged her back.

“Mamá no estoy un bebé ahora! Tengo 20 años! Porfa” he said making everyone chuckle knowing he was always a mamas boy.

“Feliz hijo! Wishing you fast recovery and happy season” his dad said patting his head and kissing his forehead. It’s all Pablo wanted too..to return back home.

“Felicitaciones hermanito mío! Here is my gift..take your girl somewhere nice and enjoy the rest of summer” she said giving him two plane tickets she got for Greece.

“Ai hermana, you didn’t have to” he said and she shook her head pulling you close saying how happy she is her little brother found an angel.

“Feliz cumple Pablo!!” Everyone was heard as I slowly made my way to him and he smiled opening his arms for a hug.

“Now it’s my turn cariño..Feli cumple mi amor. I wish you the healthiest and happiest season and so much love..here is my present” you said into the huh as he kissed your forehead and played with your hair staring with you with big eyes.

“Te amo mi vida..y eso?” He said before slowly opening the box and seeing a bracelet with both of your initials.

“We can be together even when you travel..mine shines when you touch yours. So we know we are thinking of each other” you explain showing his and he smiled big pitting it on immediately.

“Que preciosos!” Belen was crying now and both of you hugged her.

“Te amo bastante..” he whispered leaning to kiss your lips while everyone whistled making you both shy. You hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“Gracias preciosa mía..tu eres mi regalo más precioso del mundo” he said and you smile cuddling into him before continuing to celebrate with his family.

That night when you were already in bed you looked at the precious picture of Pablo with the two girls smiling to yourself.

He was fresh out of shower looking at you while wearing his pajamas.

“Porque reíste tanto mi vida?” He said laying down and showing him the photo that made him smile.

“You look so good with them..and it made me think wild thoughts” you said growing shy.

“Wild thought preciosa?” He slid beside me pulling me on top of him as I giggled.

“Mhmm it made me want to give you a baby..so bad!” You admit making him smirk and kiss you passionately.

“Hmm I know…and I want that baby so bad right now but we’re young cariño” he said massaging your hips.

“So ya se..” you agree pointing and he kisses it

“One day..preciosa” he said and you smile into the kiss

“Me prometes?” You say and he nods kissing you more

“Te pomelo mi vida” he added before you fell asleep on top of his chest freaking about that future.

[softfem-dom]

LOGAN'S IRON DEFICIENCY PRINCESS™ MASTERLIST !

a masterlist for all of my works featuring soft!fatherly!logan howlett with a lowiron!reader 🌷

WRITTEN WORKS :

[1,] general headcanons for being logan's iron deficiency princess™ ! logan centered , soft logan , fatherly logan , platonic! , headcanons!

[2,] low iron days ! logan centered , soft logan, fatherly logan , platonic! , blurb!

[3,] stressed out ! soft logan , fatherly logan, platonic! , short fic!

BOTS :

[1,] LOW IRON PRINCESS - it's almost routine by now, logan knows that at least once a week he's going to be called to the infirmary just to see you passed out on the bed. When will you take your damn meds?

[2,] LOW (IRON) DAYS - there are times where your anemia won't let you live through the day, keeping your brain in a foggy and disoriented state, seems like logan is incredibly willing to carry you around for the day.

[scientia-rex]

Sometimes I really, really miss the street cred that also working in the hospital brought me, and I entertain thoughts about moonlighting as a hospitalist on weekends, and then I remember how much I fucking hated the hospital. Like, the MEDICINE part is interesting. I liked dialing in the things or things we absolutely had to fix. I was good at difficult family conversations. I liked most of the people I worked with. But the system itself made the work a hell-hole. Chronically understaffed, running on a shoestring budget, sending a helicopter or two to the nearest trauma center or place with a cath lab every day—we had jack shit and we had to make do. Being rural is difficult. It’s difficult because you look at someone who, if they lived two hours away, would live, and because they live here, they might die. There’s no ECMO. There’s no pediatric ED. Specialist? Not at this hour. The cardiologist doesn’t do call, she went to bed two hours ago and even if you call her cell she won’t pick up and she’ll hate you for it forever. The telestroke doctor wrote an absolutely useless consult. There’s a whole two safe rooms in the hospital. There aren’t enough nurses for the ICU or med surg so your patient with dementia who sundowns will need to be restrained instead of sat up at the nursing desk in a chair.

Under-resourced hospitals aren’t the exception, we’re the rule. Even the huge hospitals in cities that I envy are struggling, paying an unsustainable amount of their budgets towards traveler nurses who can patch the gaping wounds in the system for now. But there’s a special quality of the hell in rural hospitals.

I miss it, but I don’t miss the stress. I don’t miss it enough to go back. I can feel my sharp inpatient edges getting dull, and that’s so fucking sad, but this is part of me I need to let go.

[russellsppttemplates]

Okay so P at the races inspired a similar story in my head. How about finn goes to a race to support his dad and max has a major accident and he is so scared when they take him to hospital🥺 in my dad max era 🥹

Cw: racing accident, hospital visit

"The cars are slipping there, they need to call this off for now", you heard one of the older mechanics said, but before anyone could make any decisions, Max's car was in the wall, "Is papa okay?", Finn asked as he watched everyone go quiet, waiting for the radio to be sent back from his father.

"Ugh, I'm fine", you could notice his laboured breath, "I'm sore, but I think I can get out on my own", he groaned.

After waiting for a little bit and seeing Max (barely) being able to walk up to the medical car, Gianpiero came closer to you, "they are taking him straight to the hospital - they'll stop at the medical center just so he can go laying down, the complaints seem to be from pain from the impact, but we'll know more once they do all of the exams", he stated, "someone from the team is driving you there if you'd like that".

"Yes, please", you said before bending down to talk to Finn, "Papa has some bruises and he's in pain, so he's going to the hospital so the doctors can see if he's alright", you explained.

"I'm scared, mama", Finn murmured as you walked inside the hospital, making you pull him aside and hug him, "it's okay to feel scared, my love, we don't know what is happening and it is scary", you gulped, "but we also know papa is really strong and that the doctors are here to help him", you smiled.

Finn nodded and hugged your neck, making you pull him to your embrace and hold him as you walked up to the reception desk and asked for details on Max. The nurse directed you to the room he was in, telling you he was getting a CT and then they would bring him to the room unless there was any issue, but from what she could see, he seemed to be fine all things considered.

When they wheeled Max back in the room, Finn stood up and looked at everyone before he looked at Max, seeing all the wires and machines, "hey, you guys", Max said a little loopy from the pain meds the doctor told you he received.

"Other than the bruising, he's fine - it was a big impact so we warned him to take it easy", the doctor said before excusing herself.

"You can hug me, Finn, I won't hurt me", Max said as he noticed the boy weighing out his options, "really?", he mused, "yes, buddy, come here", Max gestured.

You helped Finn up on the bed, letting him cuddle Max a little before you kissed your husband's lips, "that one was a scary one, love", you said.

"It was", Finn chirped in, "I'm glad you're okay, papa", he kissed his cheek, "I'm sorry I scared you both".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[deesblanketfort]

Sick and regressed ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶ 

Well, while I'm writting this I'm bedridden (likely with covid), and for some reason I really want to spend my sick days regressed and take something good out of it at least.

Getting comfy!

🧦: Pajamas time! Is there anything more regressor-coded than cozy printed pajamas, an animal kigurumi or onesie? I'd say no. And since I'm staying on bed, I'm surely wearing those all day long.

🛏️: Bed setup! When you're bedridden, a bed table ends up being really useful in case you want to do stuff that requires a flat surface. If you have one of those, lucky you! I, however had to improvise with a smooth wooden board standing on my lap, therefore any kind of long, resilient and flat surface can do the job just fine.

🧦: Blanket fort! Alternatively, if you're able to roam around your house or have someone to help, you can build a blanket fort over your bed or a comfy surface to stay in!

🛏️: Sick gear! Runny nose? Bring tissues. Got a fever? Make a cold damp towel for your forehead. Tummy aches or localized pain? Make a hot water compress. And make sure to keep track of the meds you're taking, of course.

🧦: Get your plushies! Since what I got is very contagious close contact with anyone is out of the table, but my stuffies are completely immune to sickness and ready to cuddle! (I'll have to wash them afterwards to disinfect them though)

Games and activities!

🎮: Viddy games! Either on computer, phone or a console (handheld preferred), videogames are perfectly stationary and don't require much movement from your part.

🖍️: Table games! Table games are also stationary and can be played right from your bed if you have a bed table, although most games need other people to play with you, your plushies can serve this purpose.

🎮: Play pretend! Playing pretend can be limited when you're bedridden, but there are some scenarios you're perfectly able to do! Such as pretending you're a shop owner and your stuffies are the clients, pretending your stuffies are your doctors/nurses taking care of you, or vice versa. Things like tea parties and pretend schools are still on the table!

🖍️: Arts and crafts! Being sick won't stop me from wanting to draw and color, since I can do it from my bed anyways! Aside from drawing and coloring, I might as well do some collage and paper craft, just might need help to clean up afterwards.

🎮: Cartoon time! No better opportunity to (re)watch your favorite cartoons than when you're sick, bedridden and bored, right? And since this brings me comfort, here are some cartoon episodes that center on being sick: Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound (Bluey), Steve Gets The Sniffles (Blues Clues), Bear Flu (We Bare Bears), Doctor Daisy M.D (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), Arthur's Chicken Pox (Arthur)

Snack time!

🍼: Hot drinks! Specially if you're with a cold or a sore throat in general, hot drinks such as hot cocoa and tea are perfect for warming up an icky throat.

🧁: Spices for a sore throat! Like mint, honey, ginger and lemon. I'm sure there's plentiful of drinks you can make using these!

🍼: Give preference to healthy snacks and meals! Like fruits and veggies, yogurt, noodles, soup or sandwiches. Bonus points if they're arranged in a fun shape (animal, plant, star, etc)!

🧁: Keep your appetite in check! It's pretty common to lose your appetite when sick, therefore I'd say it's ideal to keep your meals smaller (and sometimes eat more often) than usual.

Taking care of yourself!

🧸: Stay hydrated! Water is always good, and if you're sick you likely need it more than usual, drinking from sippy cups, baby bottles, straw cups or any kind of fun themed cup is usually more fun and encouraging than boring adult cups.

🧶: Keep your temperature in check as well! Besides from checking if you have a fever ever so often, it's also good to keep yourself warm with blankets and heating if your body feels cold, or alternatively, turning on fans and using lighter sheets instead of blankets if you're too hot.

🧸: Beware the germs! If you got a contagious disease (like me), make sure to properly wash and disinfect anything you bring to your mouth such as pacis, teethers, bottles and cutlery before and after using them. Plus, it's important to wear a mask or ask others to wear a mask when near you as well.

🧶: Resting is key! Some of these days I'm too tired to do anything above, and I'd rather just nap the whole day, and that's okay! Sometimes being sick means not being able to do anything at all and it's important to have your extended napping time to get better.