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smutoperator · 11 months ago

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Breakfast at Jennie's

Kim Jennie x Male Reader

Tags: anal, carry fucking, celebrity, CFNM, creampie, cum drinking, edging, kitchen sex, morning sex, nymphomaniac, pantyless, "quickie", sexting, twerking

Word count: 4015.

Sex. This is always the first word Jennie thinks of when she wakes up every morning. A proud nymphomanic, Jennie keeps a full catalog of every single fuck she has ever had. There are many collectors out there, and Jennie is one of them. Her collection is made of cocks of multiple sizes, shapes, and colors that had the honor to penetrate her slutty holes.

At the luxury condo where she lives, Jennie keeps track of every elegible man to fuck her. From the bratty 18-year-old heir all the way up to septuagenarian retirees. Every time a new man moves in, she finds out and greets them with a special text message: a picture of either her pussy or ass with an invitation to come to her apartment for some morning sex. She gives them 15 minutes to answer before the picture is automatically deleted.

As a new resident of Jennie's condo, you were greeted with this invitation with a picture of her pussy before you could even finish setting your furniture up. But you thought it was just one of those porn spams that proliferate these days. The second day, you got another picture, this time of her asshole. Once again, you didn't answer. But you noticed that the house number was the same on both messages: 1601. You checked it, and indeed, there was a house with this number in the condo.

It took a few more days before Jennie sent another text of her intimate parts to you, but when she did, it was quite a naughty one, as she spread both her fuckholes for you to see the insides of her pink cunt and anus. "15 minutes, I'm waiting," she was very direct this time. You had just woken up, meaning you were just wearing your undershorts and hadn't even had your breakfast, and her villa was on the other side of the condo, but you still drove like a madman to meet her deadline, landing at the door of her house just in time.

You knocked at the door but heard no answer. Maybe the house was real, but it was just a prank. For a second, you thought of going back to your car before any guard could spot a man wearing just his undies on a cold day at the house of one of the most famous celebrities in Korea. However, as you put your hands on the handle, you found out the door was open all the time.

Jennie's house was very spacious. She was clearly way out of your league. You might be wealthy enough to live in UN Village, but her living room was the same size as your apartment. You walked around four rooms and three bathrooms and didn't find anybody, once again having second thoughts. It was only at your final guess, guided by the smells coming out of the kitchen, that you finally found a dark-haired woman wearing an oversized Calvin Klein shirt and drinking hot chocolate.

"You're late." Jennie reprimanded you. "For much less, I sent guys packing. My time is precious, especially at this new phase of my life," she said. Jennie was indeed very busy, learning the grits and grinds of running a record label all by herself after her recent departure from YG Entertainment. "But I'll make an exception for you; I see you just moved in and are also still patching things around in your new life," she said, looking at your underwear the whole time.

"I think we still have time for a quickie, but I won't take my clothes off," she said, setting the rules. "Sure, even if it's only 10 minutes, I'm fine with this. Your house, your rules," you replied to her.

Jennie didn't waste any time, as she was already behind schedule. Sensing your cock still wasn't ready, she grinded her ass against your clothed shaft. You could see her cheeks popping out, and she was wearing nothing under her shirt. You answered her moves, humping your fabric against Jennie's perfect pussy and sensing your cock get harder at each slow thrust of your pretending to passionately fuck her. You then reached under her shirts to grab her tits and followed it with a few spankings of her sexy ass, much to her enjoyment.

Jennie sensually licked your torso, then got on her knees and set her sights on the monster bulging under your underwear. You helped her and took your underwear off by yourself as your cock sprung out all the way into touching Jennie's nose. She looked extremely tiny from that spot, as her head didn't even reach over your hips. Jennie gave your tip a soft suck before jerking your cock as hard as she could, blowing your pipe off as her right hand ran all over your shaft while her left hand landed in your balls.

You wondered if Jennie just wanted to suck your cock for 5 minutes and let you go after you cum. She did that many times to guys who couldn't handle the power of her blowjob. It was all a test to see if you could take further leaps. Jennie put her nails in your crotch and started sucking your pole with no hands, leading to your first hard groan. That move has finished many guys over her 7-year career, and she has mastered it to a top-level degree. The way she throated a cock with ease had you on your knees, but you knew you couldn't literally blow this opportunity.

But her blowjob was tough to resist—ball touching, shaft stimulation, tip sucking—it seemed like she knew all the right spots. Indeed, you were just one of the countless cocks she has faced. As Jennie moved down to your balls, you looked at your tip, already fully red, wondering how you hadn't dropped a fountain of cum all over the kitchen's floor yet. And she wasn't going to stop. Recognizing it, Jennie blew some hot air right at your throbbing spot. It had barely been two minutes of her sucking you off, but it felt like she had been there for two hours. She was truly hungry for some long, big sausage for breakfast.

Jennie still hadn't stopped sucking your cock; you just groaned and stood on the edge, waiting for her torture to be over. You were conflicted; maybe you should just shoot all over her mouth and move on to something else. She licked, jerked, mopped, and, most of all, sucked your hard prick like she wanted to give you a heart attack. "Stop," you murmured, but she didn't hear a peep, instead shoving your tip to bulge under her cheeks and deepthroating your shaft using no hands, then slapping it under her clothed chest before giving your cock some kisses and resuming with her fast-paced sucking.

You barely survived Jennie's five-minute-long cock-sucking barrage. Your eyes brightened when she said those words: "Wanna fuck me?" as Jennie spread her right leg and placed it at the kitchen's sink, her holes just peeking under her shirt. You had 5 minutes at most, so you had to enjoy every second of it, sticking your cock in her tight vaginal entrance shortly after. Jennie pushed her right leg in your direction and let you grab her by her right thigh, making your cock point vertically towards her pussy to reach deeper inside it.

Jennie's tight pussy offered a lot of resistance to your shaft. No matter how many such sessions she had, she always managed to keep her holes tight with plenty of exercise. You had to grab her lower thigh instead, but so far only your tip has managed to dive under her massive clitorial hood. Your penetrations were somewhat shallow, but lucky for you, they seemed to have hit the right spots, unless she was faking those out-of-breath moans she started to give after a few adjustments you made to penetrate her cunt.

You made sure to sense how she felt as you suddenly penetrated her deeper, making Jennie squeal for the first time. She firmly held her small body against the sink, giving you a naughty stare as your cock finally managed to fully stretch her out, taking advantage to lift her leg even higher and grab her by the waist. You could finally get a view of her throbbing clit and you hadn't even touched it due to the inconvenience of her shirt; instead, it was Jennie who took advantage of her clit being more accessible to finger herself. "Give it to me, baby," she said in a sexy voice while running her tongue all over her lips.

Jennie held herself by your neck, while her elbow was the only thing keeping her still tied to the sink, making her little, fragile body ache. In spite of that, you showed no signs of slowing down, giving her short but very deep pumps in her slit. You firmly gripped Jennie's slim waist, giving her faster and deeper poundings each time. She switched positions, putting her legs back on the floor and clenching her pussy all over your shaft while doing so. Now you had both hands on her waist and only 3 minutes left, so it was time to hit hard with no worries.

You increased the speed with which you hammered Jennie's cunt, taking her fully under control as your right hand grabbed her waist while your left hand grabbed her neck. Jennie reached under her shirt and spread her ass cheeks a little to ease the pressure of your deep pumps hitting her cervix at full speed. Just as she did that, your balls clapped intensely against her cheeks, smashing her little fingers. You quickly found out that two hands on her waist was the way to go, as you were much stronger than her. She had no answer to your hard pumps except moaning and screaming like a slut.

Jennie stopped as she climbed on top of the sink, now facing you. You once again grabbed her right thigh, but this time she managed to push you closer by wrapping her left leg around your butt as you entered back into her pussy. Now you were the one putting Jennie literally on the edge, as her ass was about to fall from the sink before you pushed it up just in time. Jennie's pussy finally on full display to you makes you try even harder, as you can now fully see your throbbing monster bulge under her little trimmed bush. She's a master of moaning; her voice is so sexy, it makes you wonder if she could release a single just recording them and top the charts.

"Ah yes, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she continues to moan as your cock stretches her fuckhole at a steady pace and your skin claps against her meaty clit. You hit Jennie as deep as you can before letting her climb down the sink. You assume your 10 minutes are over as Jennies goes back to kneeling to suck your meat and milk you dry in a minute or so. Using her no-hands sucking of your manhood, you brace yourself to blast in Jennie's mouth at any second. She places her hands on your thighs and then masturbates your shaft while muffling her moans under your balls. A fast jerking of your foreskin and her tongue running up and down your shaft have you on the edge of your seat once more. She kisses your tip and spits on your dick. You now have only one minute left, and try to hold on until the moment finally comes.

Jennie gives you a fast jerkoff while inserting your tip in her mouth. You know she's searching for that cum. She doesn't even try to hide anymore. You just feel satisfied if you fill her warm mouth with a hot and heavy dose of sperm at this point. 30 seconds left. More jerkoffs from Jennie. She slaps your tip on her tongue, then goes back to suck it deep. 10 seconds left. You just relax and close your eyes; whatever comes next will be enough for you. That's when Jennie surprises you with those words:

"I think you earned a few extra minutes," she says, putting her left knee on the kitchen table while her right knee is slightly lower on the bench. It takes a bit for you to regain strength from Jennie's almost deadly blowjob, as you start back with very slow pumps in her pussy, grabbing her by the hair as you manage to get halfway in, with her pussy tightening after those minutes without your cock inserted in it. As your cock finally disappears under her shirt, Jennie starts screaming harder. "AHHH. AHHH. AHHH. AHHH.." Her cheeks jiggle as she approves of your pounding. Then words that are about to send you to the heavens come from her mouth.

"Now I want you to fuck my ass," Jennie says as she closes her legs and plants both of them on the floor before spreading them back for your anal insertion. Jennie screams and gleefully licks her thumb as you insert your full length in her asshole, reaching under her shirt to masturbate herself. Your well-above-average girth was too much even for an experienced anal cocksleeve like Jennie, as she placed her hands on her ass to spread and ease up her butthole entrance. Your cock filled every inch of her anus, making her pant at each thrust.

"Oh, this feels good," Jennie says once the initial pain is gone. She's a quick learner and can adjust to any cock, enjoying your anal stretching to the fullest now. "Ahhhh, that's good!" Jennie screams of pleasure as your meat keeps drilling her asshole and establishes a consistent rhythm, not going super rough on her and just using your firm grip on her waist to your advantage when penetrating. She alternates sexy murmurs with more high-pitched screams as you advance inside her tight hole.

Jennie puts her legs fully over the table. The gape in her butthole is much wider now and makes for much easier penetration this time. You place both hands in her ass and softly push your cock, leading to more sexy noises from her. She licks her index finger and puts it in your mouth to suck. You go a little faster as your cock starts to fully disappear inside her anus, but even as you increase the speed, you're very passionate and try as much as possible not to hammer her just for the sake of it.

"Yes, just keep fucking my ass," Jennie approves. You once again increase the pace and hit her deeper as she pants and makes some cute little noises with her mouth barely open. Now it's your turn to shove your thumb on it as the tongues it. You ruin her lipstick and mark her neck with it as your thumb slides down. Your pace is very steady as you touch all of Jennie's erogenous zones, with a little grope of her tits under the shirt and some massaging of her neck as well.

You finally can't resist the urge to pound her asshole hard and fast, giving Jennie fast thursts that she enjoys a lot. "Yes, yes, please," she says as you finally clap her cheeks while performing anal on her. Jennie used the whole table as a support for her body and groans as your hard pounding finally arrives into her asshole, just like you did minutes before to her cunt. Clapping sounds keep coming out every time your hips touch her butt. Jennie screams harder as her butthole finally gets fully stretched out.

"YES. YES. YES," Jennie says, almost losing her voice as you take her by surprise with fast hammerings in her asshole. You now mold her rectum to the shape of your girthy manhood, making clap sounds in her ass that match with her perfect out-of-breath moans. "It feels so good to be fucked in the ass; I'll give you 10 extra minutes," Jennie says as you pull out of her.

Jennie gets on her knees and masturbates herself. She isn't lying. The last time one of her morning acquaintances got to have anal sex with her, she was still under YG. This was her first morning anal fuck as a self-made record label owner. She licks her chops and gives you a demand: "I want you to stick this cock in my ass until you cum," as she spreads her legs to sit in your thick man meat.

You weren't prepared for Jennie's fast ride on top of your dick as you grunt each time she reaches the base of it. You cling to her little tits, but that only makes her go harder. She might be small, but takes your big cock impaling her with ease. Your just like a veiny and meaty version of the big dildo she rides every day first thing in the morning.

After a few clashes with your hips, Jennie stops mid-air and starts fingering herself. You seize the opportunity to push your cock up her rectum. "Ohhh, yes, yes, yes, perfect," she loves when you do it. The harder you pound her, the more heat she puts in her clit while fingering it, and the higher she screams. "Just keep g..." She can't even finish the sentence as your cock and her finger team up perfectly to give her an insane orgasm.

Jennie's loud screams motivate you to fuck her harder; your cock is now taking full ownership of her asshole. You can't even barely see the results of your pounding, thanks to her shirt, but her screams are all you need to hear to keep doing what you're doing. "OH. OH. OH. OH," she keeps yelling as your impalement session shows no signs of slowing down—quite the opposite. Her stretched cunt muscles also expand as squirt starts coming out of her vagina with each pounding.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH," Jennie lets out a prolonged scream as your balls keep making a loud noise each time they smash her ass cheeks. She holds herself by the tip of her toes as each pounding now has her on the verge of collapsing. You suddenly stop and let her do the work now, as she bounces just as fast as your pumps. It ends up being a very smart decision, as Jennie tightens her anus around your thick prick and sends shivers all over the shaft of your dick. The rough pounding truly awakened her inner beast, as she now rides you like a maniac for a couple minutes.

"Carry me and fuck me hard," she demands, and you oblige, firmly grabbing her ass and lifting her tiny body. Your dick slides under her oversized shirt straight back to her pussy. "Just fuck my pussy nonst... AH, AH, AH, AH," once again she fails to finish a sentence as your cock hammers her hard. The cheek-clapping sounds at this position are the loudest so far, and you love being in full control and stetching Jennie's walls at full speed, turning her into a slut that only has one word in her vocabulary to speak. She attempts a little ride on your cock, but you are having none of it, just plowing her even harder after she tries it. "AH, YES, YES, YES, YES," is all she can say.

You want to relax a little after such an intense session and sit on the floor. "I think you earned this," Jennie says as she finally takes her shirt off and lets you see her naked body in full display. She sits her ass back on your boner, letting you see her little thong marks. Jennie twerks her little ass as you put just the tip inside her, giving you easy access to suck her tits as she tilts her body in your direction. Jennie may not have the biggest ass, but she knows how to twerk on a cock, spanking herself and turning her cheeks red while she bounces, letting out sexy moans at each slap.

You try to push up, but Jennie quickly shuts her tight hole down and smashes your shaft, moving upwards for more twerking. You grab her cheeks as she slowly opens up her butthole to your meat and increases the pace of her ride, flipping her hair while bouncing her ass straight into the base of your dick.

"Take it, stretech that ass," she commands as she gets her body close to yours, letting you do the work of attempting to drill her anus all the way deep. Her moans start to get out of breath once you pick up the speed. She starts dueling with your cock, twerking while you try to push it up her butthole. "Fuck my ass," she keeps demanding, urging you to rise to the challenge and impale her to the fullest.

You finally do, making your balls clap a lot against her cheeks as you groan at each thrust. You jackhammer Jennie and make her let out even sexier moans. You lift your body off the ground as much as you can, making Jennie's tiny body almost float in the air with each pump. "Ohhh, fuck," Jennie says as she starts panting, with you giving your maximum to fuck her now as she takes pounding after pounding from your massive meat.

Even though Jennie looks very tired, you ended up more exhausted than her, leaving room for her to restart twerking on your cock. As Jennie takes advantage of it, you just watch and let her be the star of the show, the it girl, the ace of morning sex. Jennie's rapid and shallow bounces end up being too much for you to handle, as you shoot ropes of semen all over her butthole as soon as she gives herself another spank that clenches her already tight anal walls to the point your cock can no longer resist.

Jennie turns her microwave on and starts preparing a little hot chocolate to heal herself after such a good fuck. As the chocolate finishes heating up, Jennie gets back to you and says, "I think it needs some milk.". She scoops the cum that fell onto your belly and farts the cum inside her asshole into a cup, adding it to the hot chocolate mug and mixing it up, drinking the whole thing in front of you. "So tasty, just like I wanted it," she says.

"I have to go now; I'm late to work, and I have a lot of business to do today. I'm starting a new life, so I'm very busy. I guess I'll have to take the helicopter to work," she said. Yes, Jennie was truly a celebrity beyond your league. You truly felt a little jealous but somewhat proud that you managed to cum inside the Jennie Kim's tight asshole as you dressed yourself up and took off, knowing you'd be at least an hour late to your work and face the worst of rush hour.

A few weeks passed by. Jennie did not contact you. Maybe she was indeed lying, and you were just a quickie to warm her up for a busy day. One day, as you were already on your way to work and on the verge of leaving the condo, a text message popped on your screen; it was from her, this time sending you a full-body shot of her naked with the caption. "Come to my house NOW".

You didn't hesitate, making a U-turn with your car and heading to Jennie's home. Her door was already open just waiting for you to come, as you find Jennie this time in her living room. In an inversion of the first time you two met, this time you had your full work attire on while she was wearing just her underwear.

"Do anything you want to me," she says, giving you the sign to come in her direction.

You're definitely not going to work today.

#jennie smut #blackpink smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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eggo-tistical · 1 year ago

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TAKE ME TO FUCKING CHURCH MEEEE ME ME ME I VOLUNTEER IM STANDING ON MY TOESIES AND WILDLY WAVING MY ARMS OH MYDGGOFOFGGGJFJDH IM GONNA YELL AT YOU ABOUT THIS

I will tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

#biohazard #resident evil #leon kennedy #luis serra #serennedy #IM ACTUALLY EARLYISH FOR ONCE #THE COLORS?? THE COOORLOR????? IM STOMPING MY FEET LIKE A MADMAN #LOCK ME UP THE SUBTLE SHIFT INTO GREEN AND THE COOL LIGHTING THAT TURNS WARM WHEN HES WITH LEON GODODFDJJD #YOUR LINES ARE SO. SO FANTASTIC I WISH I COULD CONVEY TO YOU HOW GORGEOUS YOUR SHAPES ARE EVERYTHING IS COMVEYED SO CLEARLY AND YET #ITS CRISP AND IT STILL LEAVES MORE TO THE IMAGINATION YOUR DEFINITION IS ELITE #ELITE I SAY IM TWISTING AND THRASHING JN MY STRAITJACKET RIGHT NOW IM TYPING THIS W MY TONGUE #THE TEXTURES OF EVERYTHING GIVES IT THIS PAINTY FLOURISH AND THE CLEAN POLISHED SLATE OF THE GUN THE GUN IS GENUINELY SO MINDBLPWING #ETCHIBG THIS ALL ON MY WHITE WALLS SOLITARY CONFINEMENT WONT STOP ME #TH. THE… TTHE PANELING…. IM LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND THE ACCENTS AND HIGHLIGHTS IN THE BACK DUDE THE SPIKES ARE SO COOL AND THE WHITE OUTLINE #THEY JAG THEY TWIST THEY FIRE RIGHT IN THE HOLE THERES A HOLE IN MY HEART AND IT IS FILLED WHOLLY BY THIS PIECE #THE CUT OF THE BUSH THE CROSS AND CHAIN THE SPARKELS??????? ITS SINCERELY BEAUTIFUL I FEEL. BLESSED #this was a religious experience for me im going to get you back for this #Watch Out #<3

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citrine-elephant · 2 years ago

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bad and naughty agents get to wear the clinky accessories

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #digital art #tfw this madman american starts causing chaos and destruction

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phoenixkaptain · 1 year ago

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I can’t write anything for Resident Evil Village without making Chris in love with Ethan, but it’s not a “problem” so much as it is just another facet of life

#the inane ramblings of a madman #winterfield #sorry mr resident evil i have cursed you with in love with ethan #there is no cure whoops #it’s only a problem if i admit i have a problem #but i really think every resi village should have dollops of chris being in love with ethan #it’s canon okay it is #if you would just take a second and look at my corkboard-#resident evil

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metamorphesque · 9 months ago

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BRIEFLY ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENING IN ARMENIA

The present government of Armenia, under the leadership of the infamous madman Nikol Pashinyan, has made the decision to cede some Armenian territory to Azerbaijan, a neighboring country that has relentlessly waged war against Armenia for decades, leaving scars of loss and anguish in its wake. On April 19, the Armenian and Azerbaijani border demarcation commissions agreed to initiate border demarcation proceedings starting from the Tavush region. The delineation of the border sections will be based on coordinates clarified through geodetic measurements on-site, with completion expected by May 15th, 2024. Representatives of the Armenian Prime Minister announced that, as a consequence, Azerbaijan would gain control over 2.5 villages, purportedly leading to a reduction in security risks for the Republic of Armenia. This decision has been likened to extending a hand to a voracious beast in the hope that it will miraculously abandon its predatory instincts and refrain from further aggression. Those familiar with the historical tensions between these nations recognize this as the initial step toward Armenia's capitulation. Since April 19, residents of Tavush border villages, supported by demonstrators from across the country, have been staging protests along the Armenia-Georgia interstate road. Despite these protests, 35 border posts have already been erected along the Armenia-Azerbaijan border. Opponents of the border delimitation, led by Archbishop Bagrat Galstanyan, head of the Diocese of Tavush, are marching from Kirants—one of the affected villages—to Yerevan in an attempt to halt the border demarcation process. Archbishop Bagrat Sacrosanct previously declared that the movement would reach Yerevan by the afternoon of May 9, where they will present specific demands to the government. The participants demand an end to the concessionary policy and unilateral concessions endorsed by the government, which will, without a shadow of a doubt, endanger the safety of Armenians and Armenia as an independent country. Hence, every single one of us needs to be politically conscious. Who knows? Perhaps one day your leader, too, will decide to sell parts of your country to your enemy.

#and this is just the tip of the iceberg #armenia #news #world news #tavush #tavush province #armenian history #reporting from yerevan #armenian genocide

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mabelsguidetolife · 9 months ago

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I saw a five minute gameplay sample of the scrapped resident evil 3.5 mansion build and am ashamed to say that i recognized some of the assets they ended up reusing for haunting ground

(also though hookman could stand to have had a scarier design other than the possibly warped face)

#it’s a good-ass game what can i say #resident evil 3.5 #haunting ground #project madman

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madamechrissy · 13 days ago

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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

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

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- MDNI- Warnings- overuse/incorrect use of prescription meds, angsty asf in places, scene of a medical procedure, death of a patient )at the beginning) heavy subject matter, some sexual tension. Reader, 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8k

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

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Five =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

Part Six

Satoru has a morning routine.

Skincare? Well a splash of cold water on his face, he’s been lucky enough to have insane genetics, in his mid thirties he could pass for a college student, not a line on his perfect skin. But that was really all he did, that splash of cold water every morning, as he then starts to take his morning cocktail, after that he makes himself eat something, then brushes his teeth.

After that, he gets ready for the day, and as that Adderall mixes with his morning coffee? Fuck it’s perfection. Then when the Kolonopin hits right along with it, Satoru’s mind is blissfully open, and he’s able to focus on what he does best, saving lives. One doesn’t just become the best doctor there is, no that takes time, precision, and a lot of sacrifice.

Satoru is alone, usually. For a night he had you in here, in his bed and snuggled against him, and fuck he enjoyed it, which terrifies him. It’s been a week since he’s been able to do more than sneak hungry kisses with you in the locker room of the hospital, your schedule is longer than even his as you’re an intern, recently you worked twenty four hours straight.

Fuck he admires you, how even exhausted and dead on your feet, you manage to put a bright smile on your face, he’d love to just take care of you, but you have to go through this to truly become a great doctor. But he finds himself missing you, constantly thinking about you. You’ve become a fixation, a sort of obsession, he wants to know so much more about you.

He wants your body to fall apart under him again, wants to taste your arousal on his tongue, feel you clench around his fingers, watch as your cheeks flush and your hips raise for him. He wants you naked in his bed, but he also knows he’s just not good enough for you, for what you want and need.

But he’s selfish.

It’s almost Christmas, and the snow has piled up as he slides into his warmed up car, thinking of you and your ancient SUV, he hopes you at least have heat. His drive to the hospital is quiet, no music, as he takes another pill, this one is his Xanax, something about Klonopin and Xanax is blissful. Any stress he has gets replaced by a ton of ‘I don’t give any fucks’.

He knows you saw, you haven’t mentioned it though, and tonight he’s supposed to actually get you on this date. He wants time with just you, no other distractions, being inside of you is better than any cocktail of benzos he could dream of. If it was all his life consisted of, maybe he could go without it.

But the real world is just that.

The waiting room is packed, Satoru instantly goes into doctor mode, getting one lady in a wheelchair who’s vomiting blood, and he thanks god for that xanax, to help him through. He thanks god (or medicine rather) for the adderall making him have enough energy to run back and forth like a madman, helping everyone he can.

He helps the med students, the interns, the patients, the doctors on the floor who all come to him. ‘Dr. Gojo’ this ‘Please, Dr. Gojo- a minute’ that. Can you check this patient, can you check this scan, all while he’s got his eyes on his four interns, including the girl consuming him, the girl with exhausted eyes and shoulders that just look too narrow lately.

The girl he makes eat something because she’s been here all night helping a baby after a rough c section. He finds you in the nicu, with your hand inside the incubator, when he holds the coffee and muffin he’s brought you. But he pauses to watch you, as you mesmerize him with your pretty smile, singing something to the itty bitty baby.

“Does that actually help? I’ve heard it does.” Satoru murmurs, you jolt just a bit, looking up at him nervously.

“I think they enjoy the interaction, do you know if baby’s don’t get it they just… won’t make it?” You gulp as you speak, before continuing to hum.

“Shoko says you’ve been at it all night, why not eat a little something?” He suggests, you sigh, nodding then, taking off your gloves, going to wash your hands and pat them dry.

“You’re so sweet, thank you.” You give him a little kiss, and he exhales, setting your things down to pull you close.

“I miss you, can you hate babies already so you’re back on my floor?” You giggle breathlessly then.

“No, sorry. I miss you too.” You kiss him slowly, softly, your lips little brushes against his, in an easy rhythm that feels so natural, so perfect.

“Fine, one more day then I want you back.”

“Needy for me?” You tease, and he exhales, nodding. “I can’t wait for us to have a date, if shit doesn’t hit the fan.”

“When doesn’t it? Alright, you eat Missy.”

“Thank you Satoru.” You kiss him again, he pulls you so tight, like he can’t get you close enough, before letting you go.

After eating your breakfast/lunch/dinner - that muffin encompasses all of your overnight shift - you’re yawning when Shoko comes to you. “Emergency c section, you ready for this, intern?”

“Ready.” You’re scrubbing in now with Dr. Shoko, as the patient is prepped and sedated, falling into a slumber.

“She was a drug user, the entirety of the pregnancy.” Shoko informs you softly, as well as the others, and you pause then, looking up at her soft brown eyes behind her glasses.

“Is that why she’s so small?” You murmur, she looks maybe three months pregnant at best.

“Mmhm, it’s not the first. Four of them had fetal problems, two made it and were sent to child protective services.”

“Four!?” Shoko sighs, nodding as she starts prepping her, drawing a line with a marker over her lower abdomen.

The surgery begins, you’re trying to keep your eyes on the procedure, not the heart rate monitor of the baby you heard earlier, already so faint there’s likely no chance. You don’t need to hear the baby’s heart drop, not when you know what that means, not when it’s one of your worst fears in this job so far.

You know all lives are important, but something about a sweet, precious baby not making it makes you question anything and everything, kids in general, it’s so much to handle so much. You know you can’t let it get you, you have to do what you do with all patients, focus.

Satoru wants you to dislike babies, to know better, but where he’s wrong is working with Shoko has you more in love with them. But you could do without, without having children, even if it’s heartbreaking to think of, if it meant having Satoru’s love. You could put that aside and respect him, but right now all you can think of is how badly you hope this baby has a chance.

“Scalpel.” You watch as Shoko makes the incision, a perfect line, and you’re trying to keep your breath even as you watch her pull back the skin, the muscle, the fat, until she’s finally cutting toward the uterus.

You both are resting pieces of this woman’s small body on her nearly flat, open stomach, one of the oddest parts of the procedure. “Not much blood, that’s good.”

“Yes, here.” Then you see it, the uterus as Shoko hands you the scalpel. “You can do this.”

You take it with sure hands, a sense of dread filling you, one you’ve felt before, but you shove it down, as you delicately cut to reveal the baby, so tiny and blue, and not moving whatsoever. You swallow down the bile in your throat, taking a deep breath behind your mask as you start to suction its nose and mouth, it’s little limbs twitching slightly for just a moment.

“Come on, come on little one, breathe, please.” You whisper, your voice hoarse as you try to get it to breathe, taking the little boy to the little table as Shoko stitches the mom back up.

You’re intubating the baby that’s not crying, you’re giving it oxygen, you’re doing the little compressions, and you can’t hold back the tears that fall as you realize there’s no chance. This baby is maybe five months gestation at best, but even for that it’s unreasonably tiny, it’s just a helpless little doll on your table, one that you keep trying, as Shoko comes, listening for breathing, looking for any sign of life.

You hate that you're crying right here, that you can barely hold yourself together. Just what sort of doctor even are you!? You hate that you’re not stronger than this, but you’re just so tired, and you hate that you can’t save everyone, especially this little boy. Did he even have a chance, as his mother did all of that?

Even so, you hate that you couldn’t save him. You hate that Satoru isn’t here to hold you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, to distract you from this depression, Shoko’s murmuring in your ear, but you can’t even hear her truly. You keep repeating to yourself- ‘you’re a doctor, you’re a doctor, you’re a doctor’.

You have to keep going, even when it’s hard, right? You keep going even when it’s all just too much. You are shaking however, when Shoko gently pulls you away from the lifeless little body, shaking her head then.

“Long gone, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” You shake your head, you have to be pried off the little lifeless baby.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Step outside, I’ll be there.”

You realize from the talk amongst the nurses and others that the mother didn’t even care, she had meant to have an abortion but was too preoccupied, and thought drugs would ‘deal with it’. You can’t stop your anger, your fury, despite needing to remain ‘detached’.. You’re sobbing silently, sitting in one of the waiting room seats when Shoko and Satoru come to you.

“Think you need to take a break, go with Satoru for a bit, hmm?” You nod a bit, Shoko holds you for a moment, kissing your head, and you fall into Satoru’s arms, wrapped up so tightly, inhaling his scent, that cologne of his, feeling his heart against your cheek.

“Oh, baby… I’m so sorry.” He whispers huskily. “Come on, let’s go have some privacy?”

Soon you’re in his office, and you can’t hold it back anymore, not when it’s just the two of you, you break down completely, until you’re a mess.

“Shh, shh.” Satoru’s rubbing your back as you break into sobs, unable to breathe now, getting lightheaded as your breaths come in sharp little pants. “Hey, you need to take a deep breath.”

“C-can’t… how can I… be a doc- if I…” You’re all flushed and red when he pulls back and looks at you, cupping your face between his big hands.

“Breathe. In. Out.”

“C-can’t, can’t… fucking it all up… I…” You back away then, hand on your chest, struggling as your hands are going numb, and you feel yourself getting dizzy. “The baby is just… he’s just gone and I… I can’t take it.”

Satoru sighs, holding you closely. “You have to though, this is what being a doctor is, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, feeling your blood pressure rising more and more, the crushing weight and your exhaustion hitting. “Then I can’t, I can’t-”

“Yes. You can.” Satoru shakes you then, grabbing you by your shoulders. “You can do this, you did what you could with the baby. Plenty of others you’ve saved, and their moms. You can’t fix everything.”

“I… I…” You collapse against him, sobbing again, as the door knocks, Satoru shushes you gently.

“Yeah?”

“Dr. Gojo…” You hear Miwa’s voice then, you quickly swipe at the streams of tears on your sticky cheeks.

“I’m busy right now, what is it?” You’re turning away, trying to get yourself together now.

“I am prepping OR 3 for surgery.”

“Yes, thanks.” Satoru’s hand is on your back now, comforting in its touch, but then his words make you tense. “Do you see now?”

“See what exactly?” You turn to him, eyes swimming with tears that are burning as you struggle to focus.

Satoru sighs, swiping a hand through his silky white locks, before putting his hands in the lab coat pockets, tilting his head. “How awful it’d be, to have kids. Especially this line of work, how could you keep it all together?”

You glare then, jaw setting, hands clenched into fists by your sides, fury taking over every part of you. “What!?”

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but maybe this is a learning lesson, a reality check of what you’ll handle here.”

Your jaw clenches so tightly it hurts, breaths quicker and quicker. “You know what? I have not said shit about the cocktail of pills in your bathroom. I have not said shit about the fact that you seem to hate kids or something. I have not said one word about you, about your lifestyle, your fear of commitment, I haven’t tried to change you or pry.”

Satoru falters then, hitting him in waves how furious you are, realizing now what he’s done, his lips parting. “Shit, I’m sorry, I-”

“No, you’ll let me finish, Dr. Gojo.” At your formal tone he’s breaking, he sees it then, you’re trembling, barely able to keep it together, he feels your anger and even worse, your disappointment. “I haven’t said a damn thing, because we just got together, and we don’t even know each other yet.”

“You act like this connection is normal?” His hands go to your waist, but you shove them off.

“No, it’s not, but what is also not normal is pushing someone to want what you want. You’re trying so hard to make me change my mind, for what? So I can be a perfect little girlfriend for you? So easy, let you do what you want and have no fucking opinions?”

“That’s not what I want. I want you.” He tries again, but his hands freeze an inch above your skin when you glare up at him through tears.

“I don’t pry, I don’t judge, I just accept you. But you can’t accept anything that doesn’t fit into your world, can you?”

“I can accept it, I just know you’re not thinking rationally, you’re young and still inexperienced.”

You laugh then, a humorless laugh at him. “That’s insane talk from you, truly Dr. Gojo. Your whole MO is thinking outside the norms, is letting feelings in. But only if it benefits you. And my age? I’m no baby, you’re not even that much older.”

“It’s life experience, is all.”

“Hah, you don’t even know my life.”

“Just… I’ll drop it. I swear.” You shake your head at him, and he panics then, sensing you falling back from him. “I will drop it, come here, you’re upset.”

“Yes, I’m upset! What I just had to see, what I just had to… and you’re what, rubbing it in my face!?”

Satoru’s blood pressure rises as he realizes he’s losing you, his hands trembling, sure hands that never falter. “I’ll stop, just don’t… don’t do it.”

“Don’t do what?” You whisper, he cups your face and you can’t push him away, not when he slams his lips down on yours, and you’re kissing him back for just a moment, before thinking better of it, freezing your lips, pressing them in a terse line. He’s a breath away, leaning over you, taking over you completely.

But you can’t.

“Don’t you leave me. Please. You’re important to me.” He needs you, he needs you so badly, but he feels you slipping through his fingers, knowing he’s pushed you too far. “I’ll drop this. I’ll respect what you want.”

“Oh now you will? Instead of comforting me after watching that little baby…” You can’t even say it, you can’t even think of it, the images in your head making you devastated. “You know I’m emotional, you knew that and you said it was a good thing for a doctor, but because it’s not what you want in this situation you use it as what. A lesson? It’s no lesson, it was a baby!”

Satoru sighs now, shaking his head, covering his face, temples pounding as the blood rushes to his brain. “It was fucked up of me.”

“Yeah, it was.” You take a shaky breath, shaking your numb hands, pacing now, and Satoru watches you with his heart in his throat. “I can’t.”

“Don’t do this. I see what I did.”

“This isn’t good, any of it, me and you. What do we have? We had insane sex, I have feelings…”

Satoru blinks snowy lashes, droplets just nearing the tips of them, as his lower lip trembles, damn near ending your resolve. “You have-”

“Feelings that are too much. It’s too much, I can’t even focus on this internship, you consume me.” Satoru yanks you against his chest, his breath sweeping over your swollen lips, bitten to death from the stress of the day.

“You think you don’t consume me?” He whispers hoarsely, and you shake your head, earning his humorless laugh. “You’re wrong, so wrong, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. Don’t look at me that way, those eyes of yours, eyes that make me stupid.” You shove at his chest as those blue eyes take you over, snowy lashes lowered, a beautiful face that makes you ache.

“Don’t leave me. Please.” His voice breaks, and you feel it, his vulnerability, it makes your stomach flip, makes you almost sick.

“Why can’t you accept me, when I accept you?”

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you, I thought it’d be better if you want…”

“What you want.”

Satoru gulps now. “I’m selfish, I want you and only you, I wouldn’t want something else in our lives.”

“Our lives?” You laugh then. “There’s never an ‘our’. Not when you just want to fix everything you deem wrong with me.”

“I don’t want to ‘fix’ you. I’ll stop it. Just kiss me.”

“No.” He pauses a centimeter from your lips, exhaling. “I won’t kiss you anymore, I won’t let you say insane things in my ear while you fuck me, ‘only me ever’ what are you trying to do to me!?”

“I meant it.”

“No, let me go.” His hands drop, as he blinks back tears, and you’re a mess in front of him. “Satoru… I could have gotten over it for you. Wanting marriage, wanting serious shit, wanting kids. Don’t you know I’d give it all up for you, for a chance to be with you? But you trying to change me? That’s where I draw the line.”

You hate seeing him in tears, your beepers both go off then, and you step away, heading towards the door. Satoru’s hand stops you, over your little one, his voice desperate as he leans over you. “I was wrong, will you just forgive me?”

“You made me work with Shoko to hate babies. Then when it backfires, you say something like that?”

“I know. I know.” He hugs you from behind, burying his head against your neck, and you love the embrace, you love him.

But you also love yourself, and you can’t handle it anymore, the cold, cruel way he goes about things. The careless way he dismisses you and all of your feelings, the way he thinks only his way is right, that everyone should think as he does. You shake in his hold, everything pulling you to him.

“Do you hate me?” He whispers brokenly, and you shake your head, looking up at him now, his blue eyes glittering with tears.

“I could never. Far from it.”

“Then give me a chance to fix it.” His thumb brushes over your jaw, your precious face destroyed, your beeper goes off again and you take a breath.

“Let me go. We’ll talk later.”

You walk out, leaving him sobbing against the door, his head against it, fist landing on it, struggling to pull himself together. You’ve in just a couple months become the most important thing in the world to him, but you’re just… leaving him. And he can’t blame you, he’s confused you, he’s turned your life upside down, and he instead of comforting you…

He threw shit in your face.

Why couldn’t he just let you want kids? Well, because he can’t be a parent, and he can’t give you it, and he wants you, no he needs you. He needs you with him, only him, to feel your lips on his, your body against him. To see your little smile, to hear your moans and cries, to comfort you when you’re exhausted.

He should have comforted you, why did he need to do it like that? Why did he fuck everything up? The thoughts swarm in his head as he leans back in his chair now, covering his face with a hand, before he yanks open his drawer. He takes out the xanax and crushes it right on his desk, lining them up with a credit card he yanks now from his wallet.

He rolls up a hundred dollar bill and snorts it right up his nostril, it burns like a bitch, makes his eyes water, but he knows it will hit soon, he won’t give as many fucks, right? But after twenty minutes he’s taking another, and another, until he sees his shift is done, and he’s weakly walking towards the locker rooms, seeing you there changing, looking at your gorgeous frame.

Your eyes catch his then, you quickly look away, your eyes are puffy from the crying he’s made you do, when he slips off his shirt, head fuzzy. He stumbles just a bit, catching your concerned gaze. Which infuriates him then, he steadies himself and glares at you, slipping off his own shirt, noticing your gaze just grows more worried when he slips his top on.

“Satoru, what’s… are you okay?” You care about him? Why?

“Just peachy, sweets.” He gives you a fake smile, and your heart races, as you look up at eyes almost black, so dilated.

“Satoru are you-”

“Don’t ask shit about my life. You’re done, right?” His unexpectedly cruel words pierce your heart, you turn away, body shaking. “That’s what I thought.”

“Are you okay?” You ask again, turning back around, watching his lids lower just a bit as he leans over you, pressing you against the cool metal of the lockers.

“No, m’not okay. Girl of my fuckin’ dreams hates me.” You hear it, the slut of his words, as he takes a hand and cups your face. “Why do you gotta be so beautiful?”

“You’re fucked up.” You manage to breathe out, and he smirks then.

“Me? Nah. Maybe fucked up over you, intern. Haunt my every dream, now you’re gonna just leave?”

“Satoru…”

“You should know what you’re missing.” He kisses you again, desperate and messy, brutal and hungry, hands pulling you against his hard body. You whimper, hating your body’s reaction to him, how it lights up. “You want me, huh?”

“Of course I do. It’s you who can’t accept me.”

“I can… I can…” He kisses you again, one hand cupping you between your thighs over your leggings. “Always so hot f’me.”

“We won’t do it. I deserve better.”

“You do.” He presses a finger along your clit, moaning then. “Better, better… you do… lemme just take care of you, hmm?”

“Stop it, Toru. You’re not yourself right now.”

“This is me.” He kisses you again, as you press on his chest. “It’s all me, this is really me. Gonna run the other fuckin direction when you learn.”

“Ahem.” Suguru’s clearing of his throat does nothing to Satoru, who’s in a haze of lust, depression and xanax. “Satoru, back off.”

“She’s leaving me, Sugu, who doesn’t?”

“It’s not like that!” You hiss through your teeth.

“Satoru…”

“What?” He sways just a bit, Suguru’s frowning now as he looks at him.

“Really, Satoru?”

“What? Really what? I’m tired of everyone so fucking judgy.”

“Suguru take him home.” You whisper, and he nods then, but Satoru glares over at you.

“Why should he?” He demands. “I’m fine. I take more than I did for fucking breakfast.”

“You can’t have someone see you like this.” Your first worry is someone walking in, Satoru losing his career, every other hurt or worry is thrown into a back seat.

“M’perfect, baby. Should I show you?” He kisses you again, as you shove at him, glaring.

“You’re not perfect, maybe something’s hitting harder? You’re not okay.” He shakes his head, laughing now, eyes glinting.

“No I’m not okay, how can I be? When you’re leaving me.”

“I’m not, I just… I’m mad and I’m upset. Okay? Let me be. It doesn’t mean you have to… hurt yourself-”

“You hurt me existing.” He whispers, cupping your face again.

“Satoru, enough.” Suguru’s words resonate in Satoru’s brain, thank god. “Get your goddamn jacket and shoes on.” Satoru huffs and Suguru brushes your hair back as he finally lets you breathe, ever so gently, dark violet eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay, love?”

You nod quickly. “We just… have different views and he was hurtful, but I’m worried more than anything.” You whisper, looking at Satoru now, you’ve never, ever seen him like this. Your heart hurts for him.

“He’ll be fine, I’ve got it. You get home and get some sleep.”

“Thank you, Suguru.” He nods, and you shut your locker, when Satoru looks at you with devastated eyes, shattering your heart.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. Okay?” He whispers, taking your hands then, and you sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment.

“Satoru I never put myself first, with my toxic exes. I let them run all over me. I have to take care of my heart this time.It’s not that I don’t feel it, I feel it. Just please, I have to put myself as a priority.” You touch his chest over his soft sweater, and he has two trails of tears falling from his cerulean eyes.

“Do you need time?”

“I need a minute to breathe, to think. We’ll talk more when you’re…”

“What, sober? Sweetheart I never am.” He whispers, right against your lips, Suguru puts a hand on his shoulder now.

“She’ll talk to you tomorrow. Right?”

“I will.” Satoru kisses your forehead, and you have to hold in every bit of you that wants to take him home yourself, that part screaming forgive him.

But even for Satoru Gojo, the man that’s taken over your heart, you have to protect yourself.

“Good night, then intern.” He murmurs, running the backs of his cool fingers across your overheated cheek.

“Good night Satoru, Suguru.” He gives you the smallest smile, when you leave Suguru exhales, covering his face.

“I fucked it all up, Sugu.” His voice is broken, and Suguru puts an arm around him now.

“How much did you take?”

“Four bars. Not OD level.”

“Thank god. Just… Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Soon you see Satoru and Suguru, as you climb up in your car, and you rest your head on the steering wheel, bawling your eyes out.

It feels so wrong not to be in his arms, not to kiss him, something that just started became so precious to you, so special. But what he did was nasty and hurtful, what he keeps doing, trying to make you change like this, you know you’ve done the right thing. But you also know you’re in love with him, with a beautiful, brilliant and broken man, and you won’t be able to let him go fully.

*****

The next morning Satoru is there bright and early, sipping on coffee in the cafeteria as you walk in, faltering. Remembering so vividly being pressed against those lockers, those eyes that were black almost are now a calm storm of blue, as he looks at you over his hot cup, steam fogging up around his face. You just stand there, because you’re exhausted, you’re hurt.

You want to be with him more than anything, you wanted to go on that damn date with him, wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You want to just forgive him so easily, to fall into the abyss that is Satoru Gojo, to feel those plush lips on yours, to have those eyes devour you. Feel those long fingers that are currently curling around that styrofoam cup, touching your cheek.

You both stand there, until you clear your throat, smiling just a little, a sad smile that makes Satoru feel like shit. He knows how bad he’s hurt you, he’s had all morning to think about it, about how fragile you were, so vulnerable, coming to him to feel better, and what did he do instead? Make you leave him, devastate you, and all he can think of is how to put a real smile on your face again.

“Morning, Dr. Gojo.” You say softly, eyes lowering, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks.

“Good morning, intern.” He says, his voice isn’t the bright and goofy one you’re used to, or the husky sultry one for you, or even the flirtatious one. It’s a soft voice, unsure, just like you.

You grab your coffee now, your shoulder brushing his, just that contact alone makes you ache, the pain in your heart so brutal you feel emotions starting to come in waves. There is so much left unsaid as you both walk out past the packed waiting room, heading over to the elevator, Satoru presses the button, and you stand next to him, feeling the pull, it’s just stronger today.

“I’m…” Satoru clears his throat, looking down at you now, your breath catches. “I’m really sorry that I pushed it. I understand we’re over, but I need to tell you.”

You look up at, swallowing nervously, the backs of his hand brushing against yours, and yours gently brushes back, sending shivers down his spine. “I forgive you, I do. It’s just… we’re too different.”

Satoru turns toward you, leaning down low, free hand cupping your face. “Too different?”

You nod, feeling the tears burning your eyes. “We are, Satoru, so different, and that’s okay. But I think we both know it won’t work.”

“Yeah, you think so?” His words are hoarse, his gaze tearing through your every barrier, a sad, lost gaze.

“I do. Maybe you were happier before, a Hojo and all.” You smile sadly, looking down at his perfect lips. “I hope we can be friends, when you go back to collecting those infinity stones.”

Satoru presses the stop on the elevator then, making you gasp, pulling you by your waist against him, so close you taste that sweet mocha on his breath. “You can leave me, I get it, but don’t think for one minute you’re not all I want. Don’t think I’m giving up on this.”

You can’t speak, not when he’s so close, not when the words he’s saying are ruining you, that you’re melting for him, as your own free hand slides up his chest. “You’re not?”

“How could I? It’s you.” Satoru exhales against you, almost brushing his lips on yours, before pulling back, starting the elevator. “Want that goddamn date with you. I’ll do anything I can to earn it.”

“Satoru…” He walks off when the elevator opens, leaving you to lean against the rail, head pressed against the wall, you’re not sure what floor you’re going to, you just know he’s got you too far gone to leave just now.

He’s not giving up on you, and you don’t want him to give up, either. But with so much between you left unsaid, you have no clue what any of it means. When you’re finally where you need to be, after several elevator rides of pulling yourself together, Satoru checks his rolex, peering at you.

“You’re late, intern.” His voice is calm, professional.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You manage hoarself, as Toge, Yuuta and Maki look at you, concern in their gazes, as they of all people truly knew what a mess you were last night after you got home.

“Don’t let it be a habit.” Gojo says, trying to be stern but it’s failing, it’s just a soft little order, one you nod at. “Wanna work with Shoko or do the pit with me?”

You’re surprised then, blinking a bit. “The pit, if I can please.”

He gives just the smallest little smile. “Then you’re on it. Maki, your week with Shoko.”

“Babies, yuck.” She shivers and Satoru smiles just a bit bigger, as Yuuta snorts in laughter.

Satoru surely feels the same as Maki, but you?

Satoru knows you are yourself, uniquely so. He now knows you were going to sacrifice it all for him, and he didn’t deserve you, not one bit, you deserve more, everything. But he’s so selfish, he wants you back, and he knows he’ll do anything for it, to have you back in his embrace, which feels so empty.

When you’re both alone in his office later, while going over a patient, he keeps his distance as much as he can. Satoru wants to respect this, your wishes, but his hands long to touch you, even those casual teasing brushes you all shared had meant so much to him.

“Present your case, intern.” He says then, leaning on his desk, you feel this distance he is keeping, and it breaks you, but you pull it together, this is your decision right?

“We had a patient with hours of stomach pain last night, ultrasound found gallstones, which should be what occurred, and ordered an EKG to rule out any potential signs of heart attack.”

“Perfect.”

“Patient is in his late fifties, mild drinker, smoker, but otherwise healthy, a little overweight. He likes tacos, he said.” You smile just a bit at it.

“Well who doesn’t? And EKG results?”

“Everything came back normal.”

“So what’s the best course of action?”

“The stones are small, but there are a few. I would suggest a laparoscopic cholecystectomy first, aside from gallbladder removal. That, and a lower fat diet, along with no alcohol should have him just right.” Satoru smiles at you, fuck you make him proud, holding yourself high.

“Exactly right, do you want to assist?”

You blink in surprise, you weren’t sure after everything, but Satoru is clearly not holding any of this against you. “If you would let me, of course, Sir.”

Sir.

Should be calling him that in the bedroom, he thinks, how pretty you’d be on your knees, begging for his cock in your mouth. The images are so lewd and it takes him everything to keep it together. He smiles though, sitting down and taking one of his klonopin right in front of you. You look away nervously, biting your lip.

“You should know all of me. You should know you were smart to leave.” He takes one and chews it up, feeling the sweetness hit his tongue.

“I don’t want to leave you.” You whisper, coming to him then, he pulls you between his thighs now, and you cup his face. “I didn’t judge you.”

“I know you didn’t, I know.” His eyes shut, he turns and kisses your palm so sweetly. “I won’t have anyone else, it’s just you.”

“Satoru it’s insane to say it, when you…”

“I know. I know it is.” He pulls you down, to where you’re leaned over him, one leg over his chair, your hands gripping the arms of his seat. His hands slip over your waist, right over your scrubs. “I’ll do anything to make it right.”

“You think I don’t want to kiss you, fuck you? Suck you right here?” Satoru moans, hand pulling at your hair at the nape of your neck, little networks of goosebumps pricking up, your body reacting in every way, nipples pressed against your bra, desiring his touches.

“Think I don’t want you wrapped on this cock?” His seductive whisper has your hips shifting, a movement he notices avidly.

“You can have anyone, Satoru.”

“I only want you. I’ll have to show you. But will you let me try?” He asks, emotional now as the overwhelming feelings hit.

“I don’t want to be changed for you, I don’t want to give up who I am.” He sighs now, nodding, sad look on his beautiful face.

“I won’t change you. But sweetheart, you are changing me.”

“Bad or good, Satoru?” Your whisper damn near ends him, is it bad or good, this obsession with you? You’re good, but is he?

“I want it to be good. I don’t want to make you cry again, break you down, terrify you.”

You ease in his hold, a hold you never want to leave, but you try to think rationally, despite the overwhelming pull of him, despite the ache to press yourself fully against him, to let him take your pain away. “Then let’s… take time.”

He nods, brushing a thumb on your lower lip, just a little glossy from your chapstick, he can almost taste it, vanilla sugar. He’s caressing your face ever so softly. “I’m so goddamn sorry.”

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, before pulling yourself off him, sighing.

“Time, huh?” Any time without you in his arms makes him sick, but when you nod he kisses your forehead, so sweetly you want to fall against him, fall into him. “I’l give it, don’t even deserve this right now.”

“I still feel it all for you.” You say, before you pull away, making his heart race. “Don’t hurt yourself over this, please. It’s not… I still…”

“Don’t worry about me, sweets. I’m fine.” His sad smile doesn’t reassure you anymore than he’s pretending it to be true. “Now, go get ready to put him on the board, yeah?”

“Yes Dr. Gojo.” You give him another worried little smile, leaving Satoru to cover his face in his hands.

No amount of a benzodiazepine lessens the need for you.

Your back is against the door, breaths coming quickly, leaning your head back and just longing to be with the man inside, the broken man that has your heart. You know it will never heal without him, no it needed him to heal, you want to stand so firm but your heart and soul know you belong to him, even if for now, you both don’t know it’s true.

You put on a brave smile, and set about your day. You could do this, right? Be without him? You were fine your whole life before you even knew Satoru. Surely… but then why then every time you formally speak to him, do you wish your lips could crash on his?

The day is hectic, even more hectic than usual, you’re running on nothing again, and when you’re finally done, and you’re heading to your car, you can hardly hold your eyes open. Satoru’s next to you suddenly, hands on your shoulders, you yawn as he looks down at you, you’re so curious how he got here.

“You’re too tired to drive, intern.”

You look at him, squinting just a bit in the dark night, the wind softly blowing back your sweater and making his snowy hair sway. “Are you fucked up?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Normal meds. I wouldn’t hurt you. Intentionally, aside from being an ass. I’ll take you home, Maki can bring you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, thank you Satoru.” Soon you’re driving in his car, his hand keeps wanting to rest on your thigh, but he stops himself. He’s running on nothing himself at this point, he’s exhausted, and all he can think of is what it’d be like to hold you against him tonight.

The longing for you, for any of you destroys him, the only sound is his car gently moving through the snow, the windshield wipers going as you keep stealing glances at him, so tired your eyes are heavy. All you can think of is holding him, falling into that bliss, god imagine, snuggling with him again, waking up with his kisses.

But you don’t know him, truly, and how will you, when you’re running from him? Even if it is the best thing for you, it doesn’t make it easier, not when you study his perfect profile in the night. Not when he glances your way for just a moment, that hand hovering right next to your thigh, like he’s fighting it too.

Soon you’re home, the heat of his car mixed with how tired you are makes it almost impossible to leave. Satoru leans over, unseatbelted you, and himself, a hand finally gently over your thigh. It burns through your warm, plush leggings, like a brand on your skin, his other hand brushing your hair back ever so softly, as he opens his mouth, then closes it.

It’s quiet in the car, your breaths and the low purr of the car filling the air, along with the wind outside and the gently falling flakes. “I will do everything I can to get you back, I won’t give up. I’m too fucking selfish.”

You smile, so sleepy, caressing his perfect face. “Satoru, you’re amazing, brilliant, great at so much, but you have to learn, you can’t just fix people, you have to accept them.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just…” He swallows, resting his head on yours, and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel his mouth take you over, he is your drug.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. What I did, it was not okay. I talked to Sugu a long time last night, blitzed the fuck out. What I did was horrible, you needed me to comfort you, and I made it all worse.”

“Yeah. You did.” He exhales, smirking just a bit.

“You’re brutally honest.”

“You like that, I think.” You lean your chin up, noses brushing, lips just that bit apart, killing you both.

“I love it, I love that you have your convictions, your emotions, I love so fucking much about you. I know I didn’t show that.”

“No, you didn’t. But… Thank you for that.” You pull back a bit, taking a breath. “I don’t trust myself around you, I’ll falter, I’ll give in. And Satoru I have to…”

“You have to be a priority.”

“That, I’ve never been.” Your phone starts going off again, you check it and frown, making Satoru curious, but he knows he shouldn’t pry. “Case in point, my other stupid ex.”

He glares at your phone, then looks up at you, softer, concern in his gaze, mixed with self loathing. “You have bad taste.”

“Satoru, not you. There’s so much good here.” You put a gentle brush of your lips on his now, easing back as his eyelids lower, as his grip slips higher. “I want to fall into this, into you. You’re my own Xanax.”

“I’m that good?” He smirks, and you laugh softly. “You still haven’t even asked, why I’m on it all.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head, enjoying the heat of his hard body against yours too much. “It’s not my place right now. I should go.”

“Yeah…” Please don’t go, please.

Something pauses you, and you hug him then, he hugs you back tightly, and you kiss him once more, exhaling against his lips. “Don’t give up on it.”

“I sure fucking won’t. I win at everything you know.” You snort at that, a smile brightening your beautiful face, making him melt for you.

“We’ll see about it. Take care, Satoru, please drive safely in this?”

“I will. You get some sleep.” He wishes he could come inside, in your warm, cozy home, and hold you, but he knows he can’t.

Yet.

Satoru won’t give up.

You wave at him before you get inside, the overwhelming, exhausting past week eating you alive, and you’re stumbling when Toge sees you. He walks up quickly, concern clear in his violet eyes, hands on your shoulders. “Okay?”

You break then, shaking your head and sniffling. “No, m’not, Toge.”

Toge holds you then, as you sob against him, and soon Maki and Yuuta are out there too, all rubbing your back, your hair, as you can’t stop crying. It’s too much, not being with him, the hurt he caused, the fears you have. The past days, losing that little baby, losing so many, losing your fucking mind.

“I’m so tired, you guys, of all of it.” You barely speak, barely hold it together, as they all gently speak.

“No, you got this baby, I swear. If it’s not Gojo. if he’s not the one for you, guess what? You’ll be okay, we’re here for you, either way.” Maki says softly, and you nod, sniffling now.

“You have to do what’s best for you, don’t feel guilty.” Yuuta says, and Toge’s giving you the saddest look of all.

“Hurting.” You nod quickly, hugging him again.

“Don’t you run from me, please.” You say softly, as he strokes your back. “I need you all.”

“Not running.” He assures you, with a sweet smile, and you feel so at home with them, but something’s missing.

Satoru is missing.

How has he become everything so quickly?

But soon Maki is getting you a glass of wine, and Toge has cookies for everyone, Yuuta is putting on your favorite movie. And as you’re cuddled with your best friends on your old couch, so comfy and worn in, it almost feels perfect. You’re blessed to have them, warm with the fire going, while the snow falls outside. But you can’t help but look out the window.

“I love him, fuck.” You whisper softly.

“We know.” Maki says, you snuggle back up to her, curling up and letting her rub your hair.

“I love you three so much. Don’t leave me, even if I’m a mess.”

“We’re not going anywhere. Shh, just relax.”

Sleep doesn’t hit for Satoru that night, not when he stares at your number over and over with your picture in his phone, not when he thinks of the date he had ready on that fairy boat for you, not when he thinks of you in his home. He stares at that damn piano, remembering kissing you on that bench.

But he was selfish, he was pushy, he ruined such a beautiful thing before it began.

Satoru knows now, he needs you, like he needs to breathe, and he knows by looking in your eyes, you feel it, though you’re now terrified. He was so afraid of pushing you away, that he did just that. As he sips down a whiskey and pops a seroquel, he hopes it will take him to sleep soon, blissful dreamless sleep where he won’t have to feel this pain.

Satoru looks out the window, watching the snowfall and wondering if you’re okay, before the sleeping meds take him out. But it doesn’t prevent those dreams, it only makes them more vivid, and he wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating, panicking. He calls you, knowing you won’t answer, but he hears it.

A sleepy ‘hmm?’

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Shh. Satoru… s’okay… shhh…”

He lets tears fall as he sets the phone on speaker. “Will you… let me hear you breathe? So I can sleep?”

“Hmm, you’re weird Doc.” He snorts through his tears, and you sleepily wonder if this is a dream on your end. “But mkay.”

He soon hears your steady breathing, and he finally can sleep, mind whirling with ways he can earn you, while you listen to his little sigh, hand gripping the phone, picturing him in your mind’s eyes. “Night, beautiful.”

“Night S’toru.”

Two hearts are alone but still connected, as both wonder what the exhaustion of tomorrow would hold, and beyond the doubt, they hope.

I know this was an angsty/darker chapter, but it will get more lighthearted and will have a happy ending, but we gotta go through some rough stuff to get there (Satoru won't be a Hojo again dw lol)

Taglist: @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @shadeowz @gojo1228 @nanasukii28 @jaeminaur @httpstoyosi @angel1of-death @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @jjknanamin @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @san-it-is-i-guess @pelicanpizza @gojo1228 @ducky1232 @inthedarkshadows000 @eclecticmentalitypersona @burguhndy @levislug @addehehe @sluttyofgojo @msniks @xixflower @n1vi Perma tags: @alt--er--love @cuntphoric @loafteaw @indiewritesxoxo @harutahake @jinjen

#doctor satoru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen #satoru x reader #doctor gojo #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

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cherryheairt · 5 months ago

Text

Dragon Dreamer pt. VII

tags: @beebeechaos @r-3dlips @emery-aka-emmy @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew @hueanhdang @thelastemzy @purple-1995 @pedro-pascal-love @littleblackcatinwonderland @fall-winter-heart97

cw: blood, death, violence, threats

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow on top of Morningstar. Seamus pressed tightly against her back still, as if he was afraid of the dragoness trying to throw him off. Daenys wouldn't put it past her, honestly. If it wasn't a risk to catch her, Morningstar would buck him off like an ornery stud.

Even with the wind blowing past her at such a high speed and the altitude of the flight, Daenys only felt a flaming heat. It burned through her veins like fire, unrelenting with its assault. She became dizzy with the overwhelming thoughts in her mind. She hadn't foresaw this to her conscious belief.

Daenys couldn't go back to the Red Keep. Not until Rhaenyra was on the Iron Throne and could protect her. She would be trapped in a snake pit with no way out except for death. She would rather die than return alone. Aegon was a drunken cunt who found enjoyment in tormenting others, found his nightly entertainment in fighting rings, and found his pleasure in the many whores of flea bottom.

Aemond was even worse. He had great skill and wit to aid him, but his madness made him the most dangerous of the two.

Otto and Alicent were compliant with the brothers now that they were reigning. Unstoppable, Daenys knew. The Queen Mother wouldn't do anything for the defense of her step-granddaughter, not in a thousand years. Otto might even suggest for Aemond to take her as a wife in a display of dominance over Rhaenyra's claim. Her eldest daughter, sister-in-law to the King.

The thought did not help her nausea. She couldn't go back.

A better fate would be to die at a formal execution. A statement to the Realm; not even the high-borns were safe from treason.

She would die there. Body or spirit, it did not matter. Daenys wished to die on her own terms, not to the whims of a whore and a madman.

Her own mortality haunted her. A princess, eldest daughter to the Queen, meant to have the blood of the dragon. Destined to die on her dragon, yet not be honored with 'a dragonrider's death'. There was no being shot down by a scorpion in a great battle for the history books. No dragon dance to perform in the skies with another beast. Only a man. A craven.

She would be alone, only with Morningstar. Like her ancestor Aerea, who mysteriously disappeared for an entire year with her dragon to Old Valyria, only to return and die without telling her story. Daenys would be remembered for her madness, not her sacrifice. A footnote, perhaps, in her mother's reign. No chapter would be dedicated to a girl who did nothing.

It wouldn't matter. Daenys wouldn't be alive to care about her legacy. She was born with her dragon. She would die with her, too. The thought comforted her more than anything else could. She was a proud dragonrider, and that's all that mattered in the end, perhaps.

Seamus squeezed her waist, knife at his thigh, almost poking into hers carelessly. Not that it would matter if it did, she could return to King's Landing with no limbs at all, and Seamus would still be rewarded. "Can't this beast fly any faster? I thought dragons were supposed to be Gods."

"She cannot fly against the winds so easily." Daenys told him, resisting the urge to tell him it was common sense. She should've fed him to Morningstar when he presented her with the wolf's head. She was naive to believe he was clueless instead of slighting her intentionally. What a coward. He couldn't even fight Cregan head-on, despite his age and experience difference. Proudly, Daenys knew that Cregan was a rare once-in-a-generation talent. As a Stark should be. He would be in the history books of great and important leaders throughout Westeros history. Perhaps most known for his protection of all that resided south of the Wall or his aid to the Queen during the war for the throne. The Wolf in the North.

Maybe her death would inspire Cregan to send more bannerman than he originally planned, out of pity for the Queen's loss. Though, she secretly hoped it might be to avenge his short-lived lady friend.

He scoffed, "what a joke."

"Do you wish to walk to the crownlands?" She bit, regretting it when he dug his blunt nails into her skin. She would be left with plenty of bruises littering her skin on the morrow.

"Watch your tongue girl, or I will remove it."

She nodded quickly, refraining from speaking any further. When had she grown so mouthy? Only days ago, she would've never imagined saying such things to a man who had a knife to her back, or anyone, for that matter.

Daenys grinded her teeth, looking ahead sharply. It was only clouds below, grey skies spanning for miles ahead. If Cregan was following on horseback, he would've long since lost sight of her. She prayed that he was, even if he could not do anything from such a distance. The thought comforted her.

Morningstar shrieked, the sound jarring even to Daenys' tuned ears. It was higher-pitched than usual, like she was calling out for another dragon. Or a person.

A thought formed in her head. Morningstar did not have to bite someone to kill them. She, like many of the other dragons, had one thing unique to her. Baelerion had his unmatched size. Meleys was the fastest of the living dragons, even with her large form. Caraxes had a long neck, resembling a bloodwyrm. Sunfyre had his renowned beauty. Syrax had a regal grace to her that no other dragon matched.

Morningstar released a blue fire from her chest, burning hotter than the orange and red fires of her kin. She seldom used it, other than to cook her food. It scorched everything it touched in less time than other dragonfire. Daenys bit her cheeks anxiously. She would not live to the sunrise.

She would not see the bruises form and eventually fade.

She would not see her dear brothers again, nor race in the skies with Vermax and Arrax.

She would not feel her mother's warm embrace.

She would not see Cregan's kind eyes again.

But it would be her choice. Her sacrifice. For once, Daenys would do something. Perhaps not heroic, like her fathers', or significant like her mother. She would prevent herself from being held hostage with her timely death. Daenys knew that if she were taken, put to the gallows publically, Rhaenyra would back down in order to save her only daughter. It was obvious what the smarter option was, objectively.

She swallowed down her nerves, coming to a solemn acceptance.

Sliding her hand up her bunched skirt, Daenys slid the dagger slowly down her leg, uncaring if she nicked her skin. She could only feel the cold pommel in her grip and the hot adrenaline in her blood. On one side, she clutched her dagger. On the other, she reached for Seamus' weaponed hand. She snatched his wrist in a chokingly tight hold, trying to force his hand to open and drop his dagger. He jerked in surprise, not expecting the underwhelming Princess to act out. In his sudden movement, the dagger grazed her neck, drawing an angry red line of blood from it. She gripped the wrist tighter, his body acting against him and opening his hand up to drop the dagger. It fell to the forest floor, long out of his reach. She whipped her other hand down on his, stabbing it straight through his hand and into the saddle.

Seamus screamed out in pain, howling curses at the girl. "Forget alive! The King will have you returned in bits and pieces!"

When he tightened his arm around her waist again, she pulled the dagger back to her chest, allowing his blood and twitching hand to smack her across the jaw wildly. She twisted and fought in his grip, hot blood smearing across her face and neck. Seamus' eye was squeezed shut painfully from a scratch she managed to give the eyeball directly; the sight pridefully reminded her of Aemond. They both heaved with effort, fighting each other and to stay on the saddle. Below, Morningstar fluttered her wings in a panic, hearing Daenys yelp into the cold air.

He reached for her dagger, grunting when she continued to slice at his exposed hand's flesh. They continued their struggles, both covered in blood now. Daenys turned at the waist, taking the flying fist at her eye with a crazed look in her violet eyes. She stabbed the dagger into his soft belly, satisfied at hearing him cry out. When he pushed her into the front of the saddle, hands trying to keep a grip at her neck, she cried out. At her struggles, he slammed her repeatedly into the hard material of the saddle by the tight grip of her scalp, leaving her breathless and light-headed. "Stay still, you little brat!" He growled into her ear.

"Dracarys!"

Morningstar repeated her cry, refusing the command fiercely. Seamus left the dagger in his stomach to keep himself from bleeding out, though he was tempted to in order to kill the Princess faster. He would have to be satisfied with feeling the breath leave her throat.

"Dra—arys, Morn—!" She yelled breathlessly, wheezing at the excertion. The pressure was too much, black spots filled her vision.

Finally, after much reluctance from the white beast, the skies erupted in a beautiful icy blue light. Daenys, still pinned to the front of the saddle, could only shield her face uselessly with a single arm. Seamus, enchanted with the sight, had sat up. Daenys grinned hauntingly, baring red teeth to no one. Blood smeared across her lips and face, giving her the appearance of the dead already. At least Morningstar would return to Cregan. He would not be left clueless.

Morningstar easily flew through the impossibly hot flames, her dragonscales keeping her unscorched. Seamus, however, was not so lucky. His pain-filled screams didn't last very long, the blue fire-lit man lighting up the clouds like a thunderstorm. Daenys, too, was covered in the dazzling light, but her throat made it impossible to scream.

Morningstar knew the fate of her rider, mournfully calling out for her one final time. She sung the song that Daenys was always happy to hear, sometimes singing back when they were alone. The dragoness did not waste time flying any further toward the crownlands, descending toward the snowy woods and to the nearest clear patch she spotted. The smell of burning flesh filled the area that she landed in, the sound of two bodies individually thumping to the melting ground. But Morningstar refused to look at the bodies, refused to have the sight of Daenys tainted with what she had done. Killing her own rider, a sacred bond broken. The dragon curled in on herself, waiting to join her rider in death. No matter how long that took.

🗡

Daemon ruled over Dragonstone's council in Rhaenyra's absence. Jacaerys and Daenys have both yet to return, not yet receiving the dreadful news. Rhaenyra had left on dragonback immediately after the raven came, searching for anything to let her see the truth of it for herself. Daemon mourned Lucerys, too, in his own quiet way. He had to be strong for his family, for the living.

He left the council in the afternoon, wandering the empty halls of Dragonstone. Missing three children from its vast halls, the castle was a shell of its former vibracity. Daemon passed Jace's chambers on his way to Joffreys room, then paused when he noticed Daenys' door ajar.

He remembered that it had been closed when she left. Daenys had always been particular about who went in her room, constantly reminding her younger brothers to knock before they entered. Carefully, he creeked the door open, hand resting on his sword.

No one was inside.

Only a few scattered books and pages on her desk that Daemon knew wasn't the work of his daughter. She was a tidy person, never a thing out of place in her quarters. It brought her peace within her little bubble. Perhaps Joff had gotten curious, rumaging through her 'girly' romance books, as the boys liked to tease her for reading.

He approached the desk, ready to organize the books and place them back onto her shelves. He noticed the scribbles on the pages, the first instinct he had to associate with them was Joffrey's childish writings, but upon closer inspection he saw that they were a repeat of the same words.

Dates were placed at the top of each page that he turned to. A personal journal, Daemon concluded. Curiosity got the better of him, sitting to read what the contents were. He wished he had put the book back when he delved into the rabbithole that was Daenys' mind.

Every day, for the last seven years, was dated throughout many journals. Some worn, some newer. She started to document her 'dreams' after Laenor's death. There was one most nights. Some mundane—forseeing what she would eat the next day. Others painful—like Daenys knowing that she would take a tumble from the steps of Dragonstone's cobble steps. Others, on a rarer occasion, prophesied important events in their family's life. Most of these dreams were documented in an obsessive way. Sentences were written down hundreds of times, no doubt mindlessly by Daenys, who was still deep into her vision.

She foresaw Viserys defending Luke's claim to driftmark, Aegon's usurping, Meleys killing hundreds of smallfolk in the dragonpit, Rhaenyra losing Visenya to stillbirth. Why hadn't she ever said anything, before hand? The dreams are always dated either the night before they happened or merely a few days later. Daemon flipped furiously through the journals, looking for answers.

Daenys kept returning to one dream. One, that wasn't foretold. Laenor's death by fire. She had never trusted her mind to tell her the truth after it had not warned her about her own father's demise. She cursed the Gods boldly in writing and cursed herself for letting her father's life slip out of her grasp.

She did not know a truth from a lie, though all those that haunted her after were true. Still, she did not confess them to Rhaenyra or Daemon in fear that she would be wrong. One wrong warning and disaster might strike from ill preperations. Daemon rested his head in his hands, rubbing at his temple stressfully. It was Rhaenyra who went through her journals, too. She must have searched through every word of them for a glimpse at Lucerys' fate but found nothing like Daemon had. Daenys left Dragonstone before she could foresee his death. Daemon couldn't find it in himself to be cross with his daughter. It was his fault she never confessed her visions anymore. He had plotted with Rhaenyra to fake Laenor's death, keeping it a secret to all in the realm except for themselves, even Laenor's children.

Could this have been prevented? All of this, the war, the usurping, Luke's death. If only Rhaenyra and Daemon had confessed their sins.

🗡

It was hours that Cregan spent on horseback, looking between the trees and the skies in hopes of spotting the white dragon. Dusk had gone ahead, running at a pace that a horse could not keep up with for nearly as long. He was forced to walk most of the time, lest he killed Red by exhausting the poor horse. Every second that passed by was torture. His mind never let him forget the terrified look in Daenys' eyes.

He let her slip away again. This time, due to his own stubbornness. He distanced himself from the Princess, a hundred reasons why nagging in his brain. But none of them mattered now, when he had allowed her to go off on her own. He knew she was upset. He knew that she was leaving the campsite because of the unbearable silence.

Cregan knew, and still let her out of his sight. He failed again after promising that he would protect her. Those sad violet eyes, which had looked at him with all the trust in the world, were out of his reach.

Taken hostage on her own dragon, being used for Knott's selfish desires. Cregan knew he would be a man damned to eternal suffering if he believed in the New Gods. For the first time in his life, he regretted not following them. His only punishment would be his own guilt, which would eat away at him for the rest of his mortal life.

Cregan straightened in his seat when Dusk came sprinting to Red's heels, barking urgently. Cregan signaled for the direwolf to go on again, commanding Red to gallop in a chase. What had he found? Cregan hadn't seen or heard Morningstar since they had left, only instinctively going straight South like he knew Daenys woukd guide Morningstar. Dusk must have heard something that his owner could not.

The direwolf held himself back in terms of speed, staying at a pace that Cregan could keep in his sights at all times. It was not another half hour before Cregan spotted Morningstar curled up in a clearing. Dead? No, that was impossible. There were no threats to the dragon so far North.

Cregan slowed Red to a hault, jumping from the mount with a frantic resolve similar to his wolf's. His whole body was tense at the sight of Morningstar alone. If Seamus had forced Daenys to land and took her somewhere on foot, the dragon would be at the treeline, tearing out trees one by one to get to Daenys.

Where was she?

He almost didn't want to know.

Cregan approached Morningstar slowly, holding his hand out and brushing against the dragon. No response. No growl, no purr, no lifting her head to see who had approached her. He would assume the dragon was dead where she laid if he did not watch her middle slowly move up and down, as if she were only in a deep sleep. "Morningstar," Cregan murmured, coaxing the dragon to wake up.

Only the winds of the North filled his ears as they rustled through the trees. Dusk's growl perked his ears as he focused on the dragon, futility attempting to make her wake.

"What is it, boy?" Cregan asked from the other side of Morningstar. He walked around to where Dusk's call came from, freezing upon the sight. A large, extremely burn body lay dead on the floor next to the dragoness' wing. It was pure black, no sign of any distinguishing features that once dorned the body. To Cregan's relief, it was the size of an adult male. Seamus was dead.

But where was Daenys? And what happened to make Morningstar not be pleased at her work?

Dusk nudged at someone stuck under the body, whining and sniffing at it loudly. Cregan dragged Seamus' corspe away from it, tossing it aside with a disgusted sneer. Serves the bastard right.

It was Daenys, bare as the day she was born. Curled up instinctively to protect her own body heat, though the fire from Seamus seemed to have done that well enough. How was she alive? Unburnt, unharmed? She looked serene, peaceful, as if she were simply taking a nap in the forest with Morningstar. Cregan stiffended, realizing the situation. He swiftly covered the girl with his cloak, taking her into his arms like one might a wet and shivering kitten. Her skin burned to touch, almost making Cregan drop her: but he persisted through the burn.

Cregan considered himself an avid learner of the histories. It was his duty as a Lord and The Warden of the North to know everything about the Seven Kingdoms and all their houses. That included the Targaryens'. Never once, in any of the expensive texts he can arduously labored over in the late nights after his father died when he was only three and ten, was a fire-proof man or woman every mentioned. A secret, mayhaps, hidden by the Targaryens to not give away their strategies.

It was hard to say. When she woke, Cregan would simply have to ask her himself. For now, though, all that mattered was that the sweet girl was alive and in his arms again. As it should be.

Cregan lifted his head from looking at Daenys' worry-less face. When she was awake, she always had some underlying fear hidden behind all her other emotions. It dominated her, consumed her. Cregan saw it even when she was laughing, when she was safe. He wished to make it go away, to chase off what haunted her soul. But even the strong Lord could not fight internal battles for someone else. He could only hope that she gained enough strength of her own to save herself.

Like tonight. Daenys saved herself from her kidnapper. Cregan would soon figure out how she did it and how she survived it. He had a dark feeling that he would not like the answer.

He brought Daenys to Morningstar's eyeline. Shut, like her rider's, Morningstar looked a mirror image of Daenys. They both looked so much more at peace when not plagued by their thoughts.

"Here, girl..." Cregan murmured, lifting Daenys for Morningstar to notice. The dragon lifted its eyelid slightly, the scent of Daenys filling her nostrils. Immediately, the dragoness' violet eye widened and she jerked up. Delight washed over her features, as much expression as a dragon could have. Morningstar rosed to her wings and hind legs, sniffing at Daenys as if this were only a deceitful dream. Cregan grinned at the sight of the beast being active once more, assuming she had become despondent due to her rider being injured or presumed dead.

He shared in her relief and delight both.

After allowing her to reunite with the Princess, Cregan mounted Red carefully, placing the woman in front of him, facing him to lean on him in her sleep. The cloak still covered her, leaving a slight chill over the Lord's back and shoulders. It did not matter, as long as she was safe. The whole ride, taking well into the sunlight, was spent with one arm clutching the reigns and the other firmly across her waist to keep her safe and close. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her smokey scent, content to be in her presence again. Even a minute without her felt like torture, not knowing how she wad faring all alone in a perilous situation.

Finally, once they reached the campsite again, Morningstar flying far ahead to it and waiting, Cregan placed her into his tent and bundled the Princess up in more furs. He did not wish to dress her, so it would have to do. He didn't sleep, watching over her and the campsite as he waited for the Princess to awaken.

It took nearly a full day for that to happen. Cregan grew more worried with every passing hour. Night had come, making it almost twenty-four hours since Daenys had been taken on dragonback by Seamus Knott. He stared at her intensely, watching every breath she took and every twitch mistaken for her waking up. He began to wonder if he should turn back to Winterfell, or even continue foward to the closest house, coincidentally Knott. He would be reluctant to take her to the very house where the vile man who hurt her was breed in, but a maester was a maester.

Daenys woke with a pained gasp. Cregan nearly jumped with her, stunned at the movement. "Cregan..." She called for him before she opened eyes. When she did, eyes bleary from her long sleep and likely more unpleasant dreams, Daenys teared up at the sight of the man sitting in front of her.

He was quick to wipe away falling tears, ungloved hands gently caressing her soft skin. "You're safe, my girl. He is dead. He can not hurt you again." He promised her, brows turned up in sympathy for the distressed Princess.

"I know he is dead. I killed him." Daenys sobbed into his warm touch, clutching onto his wrists like a lifeline. "I didn't—I wasn't even sorry for it, when it happened. I was glad that he would die, to hear his pained screams."

Cregan brought her to his chest, wrapping her safely in his embrace. "You cannot blame yourself for what you felt. You are not a bad person for it. Men kill all the time for selfish reasons. You killed to save yourself. It is okay."

"It does, Cregan. It does." She insisted, shaking her head vehemently as she gripped his tunic.

Cregan felt unsure of how to comfort her. He was never the best with words. He killed his first man because of his duty as Lord and Warden. Executing a deserter of The Wall for his crimes and disloyalty. He felt no guilt because he knew it had to be done. Such was the way of his station and the Old Way.

He could only hold her, stroking her hair while she cried. They stayed like that for as long as it took for Daenys to calm. Even after she quieted down, they stayed in one another's arms for the familiar feeling of bittersweet solace.

"I knew you would come for me. Thank you, Cregan." Daenys spoke up hoarsely. Cregan looked down at her, placing a strand of hair behind her ear and ignoring the spots of blood on her face.

"I would've ridden all the way to King's Landing to find you."

She truly believed him.

"I should've headed your advice, then." When he gave her a confused look, she continued. "When you wanted him gone. You didn't trust him from the start, I was naive to believe a kinslayer could ever have honest intentions."

"You wanted to see the good in him, even after I told you his crimes. That is not a sin, Princess. If you only ever saw the bad in your subjects, you would never trust again. You were fair in giving him a chance." Cregan mused, resisting the urge to rest his chin on her head. This position was too familiar for a Princess and a Lord—especially when both were unwed. They ignored that fact multiple times throughout his journey.

Was Cregan a fool for not caring? A better man would've surely escorted her back to Winterfell days ago when the wolf attacked her. The North was no place for a princess. He was a selfish man.

He was not before he met Daenys.

At the very least, he hoped that she did not think him bawdy or vulger for being so close to her. He had never known himself to be a slave to his baser desires, never visiting brothals at every want and whim or taking a mistress before he was wed. No, he was not like most men in that regard.

But oh, how he yearned for her. To simply be in her presence was a blessing from the Old Gods. To hear her brilliant laughter or speak her mother tongue so gently with her dragon. Every little expression she allowed him to bear witness to; joy, sorrow, fear, regret. He wanted it all, forever. Wanted Daenys to be kept safe in Winterfell with him, at least then he could always know she was sound.

She had grown so much in her little time with him. So shy and guilt-ridden to even be stepping foot in his home, though it was well within her rights as a Princess to do as she pleased. She remained gentle although she witnessed the brutal killing of a predator who nearly took her life—killed a different kind of predator herself. The little rabbits and the wolf were given kind words and careful handling even after they felt no pain. The titleness man being mourned and cried for even after he had attempted to use her for his own grab at power.

Cregan wished to covet all of her purity and goodness for himself. To keep her away from all things tainted lest they successfully drag her into their clutches. In Winterfell, she would be safe to flourish. Like a rare winter rose, which could only grow and bloom in specific conditions, Daenys could not do so in King's Landing–or even Dragonstone.

He decided then that he would make the offer to Queen Rhaenyra. His council had advised him of such things when Aegon first usurped the Iron Throne, telling their Lord that the Queen would ask for men, and it would be wise to ask for something in return.

If that made him a selfish man, then so be it.

🗡

Daenys wished she didn't wake up from her tumble off of Morningstar. It would be easier if she burned alongside Seamus. From the moment she gained consciousness, memories and guilt flooded her senses. She killed a man without remorse. For her own defense, Cregan had valiantly reminded her, but that didn't do anything to sooth the bile in the back of her throat.

She was a foolish, spoilt, and naive girl for trusting such a man. She would not make that mistake again. Daenys was glad to see the winter Lord, as well as Dusk and Morningstar, but all that did little to lift her mood. The night passed slowly with Daenys staring at the tent's roof, counting the passing seconds until Cregan woke and they would start their journey once more. She glanced at him, admiring his sharp features in the little light provided by the moon. She was vaguely aware of her state under the furs, and even more aware of how he had seen her before he wrapped them around her. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to care for her modesty.

A nagging question burned in her mind.

Why hadn't she caught fire like Seamus did? Her kin had never recorded such an event in their histories, nor had she dreamt of such things happening to herself nor other people. Laena Velayron was burned to death by her dragon, Vhagar. So clearly, the bond was not what saved her. Daenys wished to test herself once more against fire, but feared that she would not be so lucky a second time. There was no way to know her true condition for certain until she returned to Dragonstone. In the castle, all Valyrion texts were kept and passed down the generations straight from Lord Aenar Targaryen.

Beside her, Cregan stirred. He was closer tonight than he had been previous nights. Much closer, in fact. Their breaths mingled warmly when she faced him, and his arm lay outstretched slightly towards her own. She was exceedingly grateful to the man for all he had done for her over their time together. Patient with her trances, teaching her to hunt and defend herself, comforting her in her dark thoughts. Slowly, Daenys interlocked her fingers with his, squeezing once. She shifted to her side, planting herself close to his body heat and comforting scent. She slept beside him for the remaining hours of the night.

🗡

get yourself a ride or die (literally) like Morningstar, who was determined to let herself starve to death because she couldn't live without her best friend.

i hope cregan's little monologe didn't sound dark or controlling, he truly does love her and wants her safe, knows the south lands would not be good for her because they never have been.

how does one write in a man's pov? I will never know. I feel like I always made them too dark or cold. anyway, I hope yall enjoyed the chapter 🩷 feedback appreciated

#cregan stark x reader #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x oc #cregan x reader #dragondreamer #cregan stark

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