#surgery residents course | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

poisonf0rest · 4 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐜*𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 2

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader

tags: smut, teasing, oral, cunnilingus, road head, car sex woohoo, pwp

word count: 6.6K

synopsis: Between being in the midst of your medical residency and being an up-and-coming author, it’s safe to say your personal life has been placed on stand-still. That is, until your editor decided that your next novel needed explicit smut scenes. That is, until your mentor and boss ends up striking a deal for you to help with “inspiration” for said novel. That is, until you fuck Zayne four times and your life changes forever. - partially inspired by manga of the same name by Nae Awaji

original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57209872/chapters/145519015

art credit: @/kaito_aii

This is the last time you have sex on a weekday.

When Zayne left your apartment last night, you tried to write while the aftereffects of everything he did to you- everything he watched you do- still lingered. But you were beyond distracted, unable to even sit still without being assaulted with vivid flashbacks, a mix of mortification and lust coursing anew.

You shut your laptop and scream into your pillow.

Only after feeling sufficiently lightheaded do you shut off the lights and try to sleep, but the damned thing avoids you like the plague, and you stare at the ceiling for an untimed eternity. Everything feels wrong. Your blanket feels too thick, your skin too tight, the entire room too warm, too empty.

You don’t get more than three hours of sleep that night.

But it should be common knowledge that hospitals rest for no one, and you jolt out of bed to the sound of your pager beeping, rushing in while the sky is still dark.

The ambulance pulls in at the same time you do and the paramedics are already yelling out the status to everyone at the bay: forty-three-year-old male, chest trauma, performing CPR. It’s a race, a rush and rhythm you know well. You’re scrubbed down and entering the operating room alongside two other surgeons. The patient is intubated and they give the countdown before cutting him open.

It took two and a half hours to perform the surgery and stop all the internal bleeding, and by the end of it, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally.

But this was the most in control you’ve felt for a while. A sharp sort of stress that forced your hands into a trained precision and your mind into a rigorous sort of calm. It was almost as though you became a different person entirely, one you both admire and hate.

She’s calm and collected, only speaking when needed in commands to the operating room. She demands respect. She is who your mother is proud of, who you were supposed to be.

You’ve only just washed your hands and finished debriefing when you feel that half of you begin to slip away once more. And as the stress leaves, your mind wanders back to last night. To Zayne.

Thoughts that haunt you for the rest of the morning.

Finally, the clock hits eight and the ER is busy with the morning crowd. You do what you can until the other residents clock in, leaving to finally eat breakfast and get some sort of caffeine before your headache gets any worse.

Luckily, the vending machine has your favorite melonpan and green tea, and you get two of each. Sitting down, open your laptop and begin eating in the hallway outside the surgery bay, your manuscript staring right back at you, mocking.

Your eyes burn holes through the cursor blinking at the top of the page, and you try to will yourself to just type something, anything, but it doesn't work, and you end up slamming the computer shut with a sigh.

Unintentionally, your male lead has begun to resemble Zayne more and more- not physically, at least- but in his little mannerisms, his overly formal speech habit, and even his uncharacteristic love of sweets. Your lips quirk up at the memory.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Zayne comes from the other end of the hallway, looking like he also might be coming out from a surgery. He’s only meters away when his eyes lock onto yours.

You straighten against the chair, a shiver of heat racing down your spine as his mere presence sends an onslaught of flashbacks that are nothing short of sinful.

Stop. What happened last night is part of a professional, mutually beneficial deal. Zayne is still your mentor— your boss too, in some contexts— and you refuse to have these thoughts about him in your place of work.

Smiling, your fingers still against the keyboard as you hope the whole thing doesn’t look as strained as it feels.

Zayne looks the opposite of amused. If anything, he appears pissed.

His gaze narrows on you, and for a second, you think you spot something else behind the cold indifference. But the look passes as quickly as it appeared, his face back to its usual stony expression, and you must have imagined it.

“Good morning, Dr. Zayne,” you say.

Zayne stalls, shoulders tensing for a moment before he nods and continues walking. He doesn’t spare you another glance as he passes, doesn’t say another word, the awkward tension so thick it almost makes you choke on your melonpan.

Your eyes trail after him until he rounds the corner.

Well, that went splendidly.

You try to type again, but it turns out your brain is a useless lump of flesh because no matter how many times you read over the paragraph, the words fail to register. You huff out an exasperated breath, slam the laptop shut, and drag yourself to your office to prepare for rounds.

Even so, you go through your morning routine with a strained smile, a newfound weight pulling against your chest, a sharp sort of pain between guilt and longing you’ve never felt before.

—----

Zayne is going to lose his fucking mind.

He is an adult, he reminds himself. A well-mannered, respectful, professional adult.

So why can’t he stop imagining your face underneath him as you come undone? Why can’t he get the memory of every sound you made, the overly sweet way you said his name, the very cadence of your voice out of his head?

And the way you said please.

Zayne grinds his teeth hard enough that something clicks in the back of his jawbone, his usual flat expression twisted with a scowl that sends other doctors and residents scrambling out from his path. His clipboard groans under the pressure from his grip, and Zayne can’t make it to his private office fast enough before he slams the door shut and drags his palm down his face.

He sees you every time he closes his eyes.

“Fuck.”

Zayne swore to himself that helping you would change nothing in the workplace, and yet clearly, only one of you was mature enough to hold that part of your deal up.

This must be a new level of depravity Zayne never assumed he would stoop to.

But it had been torture to only watch you last night. A beautiful, painful torture he would subject himself to again and again and again just for the chance to have you writhing against him like that once more.

The way your doe eyes had practically begged for him to fuck you all on their own when he forced you to look up nearly made him come in his trousers. And thank god you were too far gone to notice how desperate he was, grinding insistently against your bedsheets while you came around his fingers. And now…

And now Zayne was fucking hard again in his office of all places.

It was a wonder he got anything done anymore.

Zayne hasn't had a lover in years and it's beginning to wear him thin. And yet, the idea of finding someone else to satiate his needs doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Not when his mind is so consumed with the thought of you, and the sounds you made, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes would roll to the back of your head every time he curled his fingers into that spot inside of you.

God, he should have just asked you out on a date first.

Restraint had come easy to him. Zayne was practically raised on it, his very life dependent on his ability to restrain his Evol, the lives of others dependent on his patience and restraint in the operating room.

But no, when it came to you, everything failed him.

Maybe he had been a little harsh this morning. Zayne doesn’t know. He doesn't want to think about it.

Running a hand through his hair, Zayne imagines bumping into you again. Would you still be happy to see him, smiling as you did this morning, or would you ignore him just as he did you?

“About this morning,” Zayne stops, restarts. “I’m sorry for avoiding conversation earlier today.” A groan, “No, I can’t begin like that. This morning I wasn’t myself, there was a patient who required percutaneous coronary intervention and the stress must have gotten to me.”

He tries again, and again, gesturing to his empty office before dragging a palm down his face. “I must be going insane.”

Zayne has never felt more foolish in his life.

He doesn't even have the excuse of a lack of experience in this field. In his previous relationships, he was always the one to initiate dates and intimacy, and it was the same with any relation that had lasted longer than one night.

But you are different.

The thought of taking his time with you makes him weak. To finally have your legs wrapped around his waist, to finally hear his name on your lips, to finally have your body pressed flush against his and hear you beg for him once more.

He wants to do so much more for you, wants you to use him as you need, to take and take everything he has to give. Wants to surrender to your every whim and every outrageous idea you’ve ever had floating around in that unpredictable head of yours. Wants to taste you, and see if you taste as sweet as you sound when you beg.

Wants to know how your cunt feels and what face you would make when he finally, finally fucks you.

God, Zayne wants to ruin you.

He wants so badly it drives him mad.

Zayne can't avoid you, and he shouldn’t. There are still matters to discuss for your novel and a deal to hold up. He is a man of his word.

A date.

That could work. Just a way to get closer, as colleagues, as partners.

You would have to spend time together outside the hospital, where the air is clear of any distractions and expectations and Zayne can get his head on straight. Even moreso, it should be something nice, something that will hopefully take your mind off your impending deadline.

Right, that would be perfect. An opportunity to simply be providing you with the proper inspiration and guidance, as a good mentor should, and keep his end of the deal should you ask for another inspiration session.

Turning back in his chair, Zayne begins filtering through his email and paper files, until something slips from the growing stack.

The annual charity gala.

As a resident yourself, you were likely already invited, so proposing the two of you go together shouldn’t be too ostentatious, right?

Zayne stares down at the gilded gold lettering.

No. It was definitely out of line in so many ways. But the only other option was to continue down this path, to continue fooling himself that he only agreed to be your fuck buddy out of courtesy and care, and not these wretched thoughts that plauge his every waking moment.

It would mean he’d be completely at your mercy for seeing you next, whenever you needed him. Or his body, at least.

Zayne doesn’t have the willpower to last that long. Besides, this is more efficient.

So, Zayne opens the letter, pulls the invitation card from its envelope, and begins drafting an email to you in hopes of preserving a little bit of his dignity.

He didn’t even have to wait an hour to get your response: you said yes.

______

Zayne opens the car door for you, ever the gentleman.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you take extra care not to snag the hem of your cocktail dress on your heels or the door. By the time you buckle your seat belt, and the car roars to life, dashboard glowing a soft orange.

"Ready?" Zayne asks, adjusting his cuff as he begins to reverse out of the parking spot.

It’s the first time Zayne has formally invited you to be his plus one, and the thought of being seen beside him like this- at such a formal gala, no less- is all at once thrilling and nauseating.

Zayne steals another glance at you, and where your hands lay clenched in your lap. "It’s just a hospital event, you may very well see other residents there."

A laugh. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

Even without the extra stress from attending this gala, your stomach has been in knots all day long-- your manuscript is due in less than a week. You’ve written a lot, and Zayne’s hands-on “experience” helped you get ample inspiration for most of the main scenes. Yet you can feel the deadline creeping up, the sense of impending doom looming over you.

Of course Zayne notices. "We'll try and have fun, it's just a couple of hours. I heard they also have billiard tables, if you’re interested?” A tap on the steering wheel, then he adds, a little quieter, “Your dress is nice. The color suits you.”

You smile, but your eyes don’t leave the road. Instead, you seem to zone out on the row of streetlights, shadows cast over your face as they pass by, one by one.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, doctor.”

Zayne continues. “Tell me more about your novel’s progress, then. If you need any more assistance…” he trails off, and you feel a prickling heat creep up the back of your neck. Finally, you look away from the window, and Zayne relaxes against his seat.

So you begin to tell him about the newest trope your editor wants you to include, a classic in enemies-to-lovers books: forced proximity. “The concept is great. Who doesn’t love it when the two characters who swear they hate each other accidentally get stuck together and turned on at the worst possible time?”

You ramble, propping your arm against the car armrest as you turn to face Zayne. "So,” you say, ”I'm trying to think of ways they could find themselves in such a situation. Maybe they're cornered by guards or captured by a mutual enemy, or we combine the classic injury trope so they can’t move.”

"That is one option," he says, eyes still on the road. A turn, and Zayne shifts gears as the car speeds ahead.

“A classic my mind says no, but my body says yes dilemma.” You debate telling Zayne about the premise around aphrodisiacs and sex pollen, but you think that really might be pushing him too far. You are in a car, after all, and an accident is the last thing you want.

Instead, you ask, "Have you read any enemy-to-lover books?"

He shrugs. "I've had some experience."

"I'm sure you have."

Zayne shoots you a sharp look. Your smile grows, slow and wicked.

"And I've done a bit of research," he clarifies, voice flat just to prove a point.

"Right, research."

"Well, to best help you, I thought…” Zayne’s brows furrow as he merges lanes, letting the blinking of the indicator fill the silence before clearing his throat. “I thought reading a book or two in the same field would help me understand your own book better. I must say yours is far better written than some of these popular novels.”

The mental image of Zayne sneaking a read at some filthy romantasy book has you giggling.

"And you’re sure that's the reason?”

"Of course," he says, though his face is slightly pink.

You feign suspicion, poking at Zayne’s arm. "What if this whole time, you’ve been hunting me down as a means to read my unreleased books? Then the only reason you agreed to this arrangement is because you're secretly a stalker fan."

"Interesting theory,” a smirk, one you see pull at the corner of Zayne’s lips. “But not the only reason."

"Oh? What’s the other then?"

Zayne smiles, the dim light from the dashboard sharpening his features. Another turn, you spare a glance at the GPS only to see you’re nearly at the gala venue. But still, no answer came, not as Zayne seemed to refocus on the road, shifting gears as the light turns green.

You groan, “You’re not even listening anymore.”

“I am.” Zayne shoots you a look from the corner of his eye, one hand leaving the wheel to rest against your thigh. “There is, however, a difference between listening and answering.”

But now it’s your turn to stop listening. You can’t, not when his thumb does that thing again, tracing mindless circles against your inner thigh while he looks back at the road.

It does something, to have his hand there, warm and heavy. Something that has your thighs pressing together, heat creeping down your neck.

Zayne catches the motion. Of course, he does. And he squeezes, just a little.

And then a brilliantly wretched idea hits you.

"Do you have any suggestions?" You ask, trying to keep your tone innocent, even as you part your thighs just a little further. "I mean, you did research and all. Surely, you remember something useful about the plots. Or the sex scenes."

"The sex scenes," Zayne echoes, his voice tight.

"Well, yes. They're kind of important. They're why people buy the books." You lick your lips. "For example, surely one of those books you read for research had interesting forbidden tropes?"

"It's likely." His jaw ticks. "You'll have to be more specific.”

"Well..." you draw the word out, shifting in your seat. “You know where else would be a really inappropriate place for a character to get a boner?” Reaching over, you glide your hand up Zayne’s thigh, mirroring his placement on your own. “In a car, doctor.”

Zayne thanked every god for their mercy the moment he got to a red light, car jolting to a halt as he eyed you with a frown.

“Behave," he scolds. "This is beyond reckless."

The genuine frustration edged into Zayne’s voice makes you hesitate, and you move to sit up, retreating your hand from his thigh when it brushes past something unmistakably hard.

You feel Zayne tense beneath you, the car jerking forward before speeding along as though nothing had happened. Oh, but your lips cracked into a vicious grin as you stretched your way fully over the center console, wriggling your ass in the air on the far side of the seat.

Really, you should have realized that the stern, self-deprived Zayne gets off on scolding you as much as you did.

You watch him closely, but despite his harsh words, he never moves to actually stop you. So you continue, scraping your nails up his trousers as your mouth follows, hot breath leaving damp spots against the expensive cotton as Zayne’s thigh jumps under your touch.

God, the click of his belt coming undone elicited a nearly Pavlovian response at this point, the sound of metal on metal making something in your core flutter. You waste no time going for his zipper, palming at the bulge straining into your touch as it pushes out from between the metal all on its own.

Zayne laments all the trust you placed in him as a driver. Despite being only minutes from the venue, he swore he was gripping the steering wheel hard enough for it to snap. A car behind him honks and Zayne swears under his breath, thoughts clouding over as your hands finish sliding his zipper down, gently palming at his cock as he inhales sharply at the feeling of your hot breath over clothed skin.

And the moan Zayne lets out when you lick the head of his cock is enough to have you gushing. But you never take him any deeper, blocked by your position over the passenger seat, settling with unsatisfactory kitten licks up and down his length, leaving sloppy marks without ever speeding up.

Zayne shudders, huffing in frustration and restraint as he unconsciously tries to buck himself into your mouth, failing due to the awkward side angle you placed yourself in. Instead, you splay your hands over his lower belly, untucking his shirt as your fingers rub against his v-line, as you begin to suck just barely over this throbbing head.

“You shouldn’t– fuck." His jaw flexes, and his fingers are white-knuckled, the veins in his forearms standing out with the strain.

The shock of hearing Zayne curse was almost a physical blow. The word was spoken more like a prayer than a profanity, something desperate and violent caught in his throat, a warning and plea all at once. It made something hot coil deep in your gut.

It made you want to push him further.

You must have made some type of sound muffled over his cock because Zayne hisses, his hand coming down from the steering wheel to grab at your hair, fingers threading into your scalp and pulling, just enough to hurt.

"You are absolutely insufferable." Zayne's voice breaks into a moan. "Stop teasing me."

You pull off of him with a wet pop, sitting up and wiping the drool from your chin. "But I’m hardly doing anything. Don’t tell me you’re getting so hard just from a few kisses."

"Reckless. Lack of foresight. Do I need to teach you how to behave like an adult?" Zayne's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his jaw clenching. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him.

"No," you lean forward and kiss the head, lips wrapping around it as you swirl your tongue. Zayne's foot presses down on the gas and the car jerks forward. "But maybe I could use some help learning my lesson."

You swallow him down, and his hips jump. Humming around him, Zayne’s cock twitches, and before you can stabilize yourself he’s pushing your head down further. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it, not with the way his hips stutter upwards, thickly corded muscles of his thighs tensing as you nearly choke.

Another broken moan fills the car alongside the wet sounds of your mouth, drool leaking from the corners of your lips as his cock bumps the back of your throat. You gag, and Zayne’s grip on your head finally loosens, the wheels spinning over loose gravel as you pull off just to breathe.

You can't see him, not with the angle, but the feeling of his eyes on you, burning into the side of your face, and the heavy throb of his cock against your tongue was enough to know just how close he is.

You're so distracted, tears blurring your vision, that you don't notice the car has stopped, not until Zayne's other hand is reaching over to cup your jaw, forcing your mouth off his cock and forcing your head up to look at him.

The moment your eyes meet, he frowns, thumb rubbing across your bottom lip, cleaning your smeared lipstick and spit from your ministrations. "Look at you," he hums. "What a mess."

The nearby spots in the lot are empty, but you’ve arrived early, and you can see cars parking close enough to send your heart racing.

You glance at the clock- seven forty-six- and you know despite how Zayne’s windows are tinted, it would take someone looking over from a meter or so away to see the two of you, to see the way Zayne's hands are fisted in your hair, to see you arched over the middle console, to see how hard he was and hear the slick, wet noises you made around his cock.

You nearly yelp as Zayne pushes you off his lap, messily tucking himself back into his trousers before climbing out the door. It shuts with a bang and you’re about to scramble up when you hear the passenger door open and are roughly hauled out of the car and slung over Zayne’s shoulder.

You don’t even have time to scream. The next thing you know, you're being tossed on your back into the back seat, barely having time to right yourself before Zayne follows you, door slamming shut. He's pulling at your dress, bunching the fabric up and around your waist before dragging you under him.

“Did I not satisfy you thoroughly enough last time?” Zayne scolds between breaths, teeth scraping over your pulse point before he bites down. “Or perhaps what I should have realized is that you’re simply a filthy little girl who gets off on being punished?”

The sound you let out is obscene, a whiny moan that has Zayne groaning as he pulls away, his mouth slick and shiny with spit. He grinds his cock against your stomach, his hand coming around your throat and forcing you to face him.

It’s almost effortless, the way he holds you against him, folding your thighs to your chest as he bends to avoid hitting the roof of his car. His cock is still rock hard and pressed against the back of your thighs, only the thin slip of your dress shielding you from his greedy eyes.

"Zayne- fuck, we're gonna be late." You choke out, a gasp following as his hips grind into yours.

“Answer the question.”

Another bite to the plush above your breast and you cry, fearing more for the possibility that he leaves a permanent mark more than anything else. As if hearing that, Zayne bites again. Harder.

“Yes!” You thrash, trying to kick him off you but there’s little room in the back seats and the leather sticks to your sweat-slick back as Zayne works to pin your hips. “Yes, I’m sorry. I only— I wanted to see how long you’d last.”

A laugh, short and cruel. “How long I’d last?”

Zayne grabs your wrists and holds them over your head. He leans close, so his lips brush yours when he speaks, and the words are low and soft. Dangerous.

"Well, then. Allow me to return the favor.” Zayne lifts your leg, pressing a kiss to your calf as your foot hits the window, one heel falling off with a thud. “If memory serves me right, isn’t this a trope too?”

It’s almost effortless, the way he lifts your hips all the way up, your legs kicking helplessly over his shoulders as they’re forced up against the roof of the car. Shifting his weight around in the tight space, Zayne coaxes your calves to cross behind his neck, giving a small grunt as his face is pressed into your inner thighs, one arm straining against the leather of the car seats.

“Where they’re stuck in a small space, right?” Zayne’s eyes never leave yours. “Maybe a cave,” his tongue trails up the bare skin of your quivering thigh, “Under a desk,” licking his way up, “in a car?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, not when the heat of his mouth presses directly onto your clothed clit, licking over the lace of your panties as you arch off the leather seats.

You’re already a dripping mess, writhing against the leather of the seats and the hard muscle of Zayne's shoulders, the sensation of his hot tongue pushing against your clit through the lace a painful sort of pleasure. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

Zayne pulls off and stares at the string of his spit and your arousal, warm and sticky, against the soaked patch of cotton between your legs connecting to his lips. Involuntarily, he bucks into the cold emptiness underneath you.

Fuck, he’s so hard he might come from this alone.

You hardly notice, not with the way every muscle and nerve quivers and begs for release, jaw falling slack as Zayne’s lips are quick to tease you again, this time pressing his tongue flat against the crotch of your panties and laving across the entire seam. The gorgeous arch of his nose presses up into your clit, and you moan, one hand flailing backways as it slides against the fogged-up window.

"Zayne, fucking hell, just eat me out properly!" The curses tumble out of your mouth before you can think of the repercussions, but there was no way he could keep eating you out through the material, no matter how good it felt.

"So desperate." Zayne mumbles between open-mouthed kisses to your cunt, "So needy."

"Fuck- please," You draw one hand through his hair, pulling his face closer. "Please, please, please-"

"Poor thing. I suppose it would be against my oath to leave my patient in such pain." And he roughly presses his thumb up against the hood of your clit.

You sob, hands scrambling for something- anything- to hold on to as they slip down the window and dig into the leather of the seats. But Zayne was nothing if not observant from your last night together, and it doesn't take long for you to cum as soon as his mouth latches onto your poor neglected cunt through your panties.

Still riding out each trembling wave of your orgasm, Zayne doesn’t fight the way your thighs clench around his head, kissing you through it until he readjusts your legs against his shoulders, forcing you higher onto your upper back. His fingers toy with the edge of the fabric, pleased with the way it sticks to your skin.

All you can focus on is his breathing, heavy and fast, as he stares down at your cunt so intensely it makes you blush, helplessly exposed with your thighs pinned across his broad shoulders. Spread for him like every inch of the offering he intended on devouring you as. His goddess, his sacrificial lamb. Gods, he wants to know how every part of you tastes.

Zayne’s cock twitches again, and he shudders violently, a fat glob of precum falling onto the leather seats below, mixing with your slick that has already slid down his chin and your thighs.

If left alone, no doubt it’ll stain.

“Look at the mess you made.” Zayne scolds, forcing your jaw to the side so you can see the puddle staining the seats. You whimper, and Zayne shakes his head. “Well, we can’t just leave it. I suppose I’ll have to teach you to take responsibility for your actions.”

Your hips jump. It's so hard to focus when he's talking like that, and the only coherent thought you can muster is that Zayne would be a fantastic writer if he ever decided to switch professions.

But he begins to shift you around, and your brows furrow as Zayne’s hand dips between the two of you, down to the leather, sweeping across the splattered mix of cum with two fingers before forcing your jaw towards him again.

“Clean up your mess.”

You think something is permanently fucked in your brain with the way your cunt flutters at that.

Zayne’s unyielding face stares down at you, his dripping fingers pressed against your lips as you wrap around them and suck. It’s heady, the scent of sex overwhelming as Zayne practically fucks the digits into your mouth, sliding them against your tongue until you gag, thumb tracing loving circles against your bottom lip as though coaxing you to take them deeper.

Only after gagging twice more does Zayne take mercy on you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth. Instead, the pads of his fingers press against your tongue, and you take the hint, beginning to suck at them until the taste of you disappears.

His fingers slip from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting his fingers and your mouth before Zayne breaks it. Your tongue flicks out to swipe at the excess drool, and he wipes your bottom lip.

“Good girl, tasting just how desperate you are.” Every word of praise Zayne whispers goes straight to your cunt, nearly making you dizzy until he finally sits back.

“And now…” he finally moves to push the ruined fabric to the side, “I get to taste, too.”

The feeling of his hot tongue directly on your slit nearly has you in tears, and your hand lurches into Zayne’s hair to force him closer.

“No pulling. Behave,” Zayne warns. “This is still meant to be discipline for your earlier stunt on the road.”

Whimpering, you nod, parted lips swollen and shiny from the abuse Zayne put them under with his fingers. Satisfied, Zayne finally gives you what you need, kissing the swollen flesh of your clit directly before curling two fingers into your aching cunt.

“Zayne-”

He’s addicted to the way you say his name. He’s addicted, and he’s going to come in his pants if you don’t stop.

You begin begging again before Zayne covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, muffled cries still enough to drive him insane as he focuses on getting you past that high.

Despite his threats, you can’t help but tug at Zayne’s hair, needing him against you as your hips began moving or their own accord, bucking and grinding senselessly against his face until you were practically riding his tongue. Chest heaving, you looked up to see him staring directly at you, silhouetted from the car window, green eyes nearly aglow with wretched desire.

Just like that, you’re coming, hard, thighs clenching down around Zayne’s head until he’s certain you’re trying to kill him. But gods, he never wants you to stop.

Addicted, Zayne presses open mouthed kisses to your cunt, swallowing everything you give him as his eyes roll back.

Desperate, you try to crawl away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. Your head hits the car door before Zayne drags you right back, forcing your hips up higher as your back is arched into the air, nearly perpendicular as you sob, legs kicking over his shoulders.

But still, Zayne continues, and he knows. He feels it the moment your thighs lock up, the way your stomach goes tight and the way your senseless pleading still muffled by his palm reaches a higher pitch. And he takes advantage, not letting up as he curls his fingers until your cunt clenches down on his digits and tongue, squirting into his mouth.

Almost in apology, Zayne finally withdraws his fingers as he opts to instead clean you directly with his tongue, nose accidentally overstimulating your swollen clit as you weakly fight to push his head away.

Zayne takes the hint this time, lowering your sore legs onto the seats below, finally set on a solid surface after being held in the air for so long. The slit of your dress is askew across your stomach instead of thigh, and Zayne gently tugs it back into place.

Leaning down, he picks up your forgotten heel before slipping it back into your foot, buckling it as you shiver every time his fingers brush your ankle.

When Zayne finally faces you again, the lower half of his face is a complete mess, and you should be mortified never having squirted before let alone on your mentor’s face.

But Zayne merely wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smiling like the slick dripping down his chin was won in victory and not debauchery. “Well then, shall we?”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace x reader #lnd zayne #lads zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace zayne #poisonwrites

1K notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 2 months ago

Text

The Doctor's In - Part 4

Summary: Wanda and R have their first date ;)

Wanda: Sorry I missed you before you left for work. Wanna come over for dinner with us?

Y/N: Would love to :)

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who just got dumped” Darcy says as you smile at your phone.

“Who got what?”

“Carol and Maria…”

“No one dump me, there was no relationship to end” you say, locking your phone. You have noticed that Carol has been avoiding you, which is pretty idiotic, considering a lot of the trauma cases that come your way are ortho related.

That would also explain why Kamala rambled so much every time you requested a consult, so you made a note to speak to Carol about it.

“So…” Darcy ponders, and you wish she’d just drop it. She snaps her fingers. “The hot mom!”

“Her name is Wanda, and we are just talking” you refuse to look at her, knowing she can smell the bullshit from miles away.

“Something tells me talking wasn’t the only thing you did with your mouths” she insists, pulling on your sleeve.

“Fine! We kissed and it was awesome! Happy, you little pestering gnome?”

“Yes, lesbian whore. Congrats on securing a ticket to MILF paradise”

“Fuck you”

“Doctor Y/L/N” Kamala enters the room as you give Darcy the middle finger. “I can come back! Sorry!”

“Look what you’ve done” you mumble as Darcy cackles. The joy doesn’t last long, as you steal her chips. She’s too distracted making fun of you to notice.

“Hey, not fair”

You close the door and go after the resident.

“Hey, Kamala”

“Oh, hi. Doctor Danvers asked me to show you some X-Rays”

“Tell Doctor Danvers to show me herself. Or better yet, I will go directly to her. Where can I find her, Doctor Kahn?”

“Uh… I…”

“Never mind, I’ll ask Maria” you turn to leave and Kamala screeches in horror.

“OR 2. She’s in OR 2. Please don’t do it, my Baba will never forgive me if I get kicked out of the program” the young doctor clings to your arm.

“Kamala. Get it together. It’s gonna be fine. If Carol gets mad, you can be in my service for a week” you promise and she barely stops hyperventilating.

By the time you reach the OR, Carol is done with her surgery. She stops in her tracks when your eyes meet.

“Doctor Danvers, a word?” you ask, trying to sound professional.

“Of course” she nods. Leading you to an empty scrub room, Carol opens the door for you, fidgeting. “What’s up?”

“Stop making everything so awkward. I’m not mad at you. Kamala is about to have a stress induced stroke from all the consults you send her to avoid me”

“You’re really not mad?” Carol says.

“No! I never expected anything else from you. We didn’t talk about it but I always knew what your true feelings were”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, honestly. Just, stop acting like you left me at the altar or some weird shit. We’re colleagues and friends”

“That makes me happy. I didn’t want to stop talking to you” she relaxes. “Though I have to be honest, I told Maria what happened between us”

“Is she mad?”

“Only a bit and just to me. I’ll manage to turn it around” the blonde smiles, a dreamy look on her eyes.

“If it helps, tell her I have a date on Thursday” you say, leaving the room, Carol right behind you.

“Oh, let me guess. The hot mom?” she jokes.

“Her name is Wanda!” you repeat.

“Well, let me know how the date goes?” Carol pats your shoulder, and you nod.

“Will do. Now page your resident and tell her we’re all set before she gets admitted to the Psych ward”

—

The footsteps approaching on the other side make your heart jump. You wonder if the flowers are too much, but when Wanda sees them, her face lights up and you know it was the right thing to do.

“Come on in” Wanda says, taking the flowers and then standing on her toes to kiss your cheek. “The boys are in the living room”

“Want some help with the food?”

“No, I’m almost done. It will be more helpful if you entertain the twins for a little” she says, pulling the flowers close to her chest.

“Alright, then” you’re about to kiss her when the boys walk in. They’re so excited to see you that they don’t notice how close you are to their mother.

“Y/N” Billy says, running towards you.

“Hey, kiddos” you pick them up, carrying them over your shoulder and they giggle. “Come on, there’s a new game I wanna show you”

You take your time to set everything up, explaining a bit about the game. They giggle as Crash jumps and turns in the sand of the first level, and you finish it all, including the tricky jump at the end.

“Who wants to go next?”

“Me” Tommy says, sitting next to you. They are both focused on the game, so you take advantage of the distraction to go see Wanda.

Sliding into the kitchen, you grab her by the waist.

“You scared me” she laughs, allowing you to press against her back, kissing her temple. “What’s going on?”

“I have approximately fifty seconds before they ask for my help so I’m making sure they count” you turn her around and lean forward, capturing her lips and sighing against her mouth. “You look very pretty”

“Thank you”

“You smell really nice” you add, kissing her again, making Wanda laugh. “And I really, really, like kissing you”

Wanda smiles at that, her hand caressing your cheek.

“Y/N!” the boys chant in unison.

“Like clockwork” you mutter, kissing Wanda’s forehead as you go back to the living room.

You spend a few more minutes playing with the kids, until Wanda calls everyone for dinner.

“How’s the arm, kiddo?” you say, sitting next to Billy with Tommy and Wanda in front of you. As you take a bite of the chicken, you notice a funny flavor. “Is this brocc…”

Wanda widens her eyes and kicks you under the table.

“Ouch”

“You ok?” Tommy asks, none the wiser.

“Yeah, I just bit my tongue” you lie, Wanda taking a sip of her water to hide her laugh.

“Kids, eat” she encourages them, and you get the hint. The flavor of the broccoli is hidden with the cheese, so you smile and continue to eat, enjoying every single bite.

“I’m on cleaning duty” you say as soon as everyone finishes, taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

Billy and Tommy run to the living room to continue playing, and as you get ready to wash the dishes, Wanda leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“It’s nice to have you here”

“You have an odd way of showing it, Miss Maximoff” you joke, leaning against her touch.

“In my defense, it’s the only way to get them to eat their greens” she jokes and you lean forward, your lips inches away from hers. In that precise moment, the boys call for her.

“Behave” she warns the children, pulling away to see what the fuss is about.

“Have you thought about boarding schools?” you joke and she pinches your side. “Ah, kidding! I would miss them too much”

You load the dishwasher, clean the pots and put the rest of the food on some containers. By the time you’re done, the kids are getting ready to go to bed.

“Can you come over again tomorrow?”

“If your mom wants me to, sure. I can bring the food this time so she takes a break from cooking” you offer, smiling at Wanda.

“We’ll see about that, Y/N works hard enough as it is. Say goodbye to her, boys”

Tommy and Billy wave at you, already dragging their feet. You stay on the living room, and a few minutes later Wanda comes down.

“Hi” she plops down next to you and you smile.

“All good?”

“A bit tired, that’s all. Just ignore me, you’re the one that works all those crazy hours”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now” you shrug your shoulders.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow”

“How come?” Wanda asks when she returns, handing you a glass of red wine and sitting closer to you on the couch.

“Well, I have a really hot date coming up and I need to plan every detail”

“She sounds like a lucky girl” Wanda blushes, biting her lip.

“Oh, I’m the lucky one” you say, placing both of your glasses on the coffee table. “She’s smart, funny, has legs for days, cooks amazing food…”

“Stop” she laughs, and you shake your head no. Wanda is still laughing when you connect your lips with hers, a sigh leaving her mouth when you lift her and place her on your lap, her legs straddling you.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah” she nods, leaning her forehead against yours. “More than ok. As a matter of fact, I remember reading that kissing is good for your health”

“It’s so good” you say, your lips traveling to her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck. “I’d say do it as often as possible”

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda jokes, her voice faltering as you come back to her mouth, your tongue swiping across her bottom lip.

“Doctor’s orders”

—

The plan is coming along. You have the tickets for the exhibit and the next thing on the list should be the dinner reservation. Your pager beeps the minute you call the restaurant.

911.

“Shit”

You sprint to the car, knowing no one would call you outside of work if it wasn’t serious.

“What’s wrong?” you walk to the ER, looking around.

“What on Earth is this?” Tony Stark, neurosurgeon and professional asshole gets in your face the minute you get there.

“I don’t know, I’ve been off work since yesterday, Stark” you take the chart, reading all the information until you get to the signature. The writing got progressively worse, until it was just senseless lines.

“This person was clearly having a stroke, and the staff didn’t notice. I have to scrub in and see if I can save his life”

“And you’re wasting time arguing with me” you roll your eyes, pushing the chart to his chest and walking to the OR.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To scrub in. If you want to blame me, that’s fine. I’m staying by this patient’s side until he pulls through”

“If he pulls through” Stark says angrily and you ignore him.

Before scrubbing in, you check your phone.

Wanda: Is everything ok? I saw you leaving in a hurry.

“By all means, take your time” Stark says, glaring as he walks by you.

You spend the entire surgery in his OR, standing still and doing everything he asks. He’s a rude, pretentious cunt, but if anyone can work a miracle, it’s him, so you suck it up and take every snide comment with a blank stare.

After hours working, Tony sighs, nodding at his work.

“Close him, Parker,” he asks his resident. You stand watching the young man’s work, until the surgeon asks you to come with him.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out the minute you step out. “This wasn’t your patient, nor your responsibility. And I made it seem like it was”

“It’s still not right. If I had been here, I would have noticed”

“I know. Your work is impeccable” he acknowledges and you nod. Even if he’s an ass, this is the hospital his father built, and he’s a genius with years ahead of you in experience.

“Will he be alright?”

“There’s a good chance he’ll pull through. Let’s be cautiously optimistic. I’ll let Parker explain everything to the family. Sorry for interrupting your days off”

“Not a problem”

“It’s the first time you’ve taken PTO in 3 years. Fury’s gonna have my head for making you come” Tony says, laughing.

The patient is moved to the ICU, but you’re still not comfortable leaving, so you go back to the on-call room, sitting in a bed to gather your thoughts. Yelling in the hallway makes you stand up, watching as Parker tries to speak to a man and his wife.

“You discharged him, said he was fine” the man yells, pointing at Peter’s face.

“Sir, I can assure you, we’re doing our best to make sure your son…”

“We wanna see him now” the man takes Peter by his coat, almost lifting him off the ground. The young man stutters, not knowing how to deescalate the situation.

“Hey, that’s enough” you step in, not realizing the man is about to throw a punch until you make him drop Peter, his elbow connecting with your cheek.

“Crap, Doctor Y/L/N, are you ok?” Peter says, rushing to your side.

“Yeah, fine”

Fucking fantastic.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to wait in the foyer, or I’ll call security” Carol steps in, glaring at the man. She waits until he’s gone, muttering an apology your way. “You ok?”

“Mhm, great”

“I thought you had a few days off”

“Yeah, me too”

“Come on, let’s have a look at that punch” Carol says, dragging you to one of the exam rooms. You sigh, trying to keep your eye closed. “No stitches needed”

“Great” you mumble, pulling out your phone. There’s like five messages from Wanda but before you can answer, she calls you.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you ok? You had me worried”

“Yeah, there was a thing at the hospital and I… ouch! Carol, a little warning?” you hiss as the blonde pours some disinfectant on the bruised skin.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy” Wanda says, her demeanor changing. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait, Wanda!” you say but it’s too late, the call cut off. “God, could this day get any worse? I have to go”

“Want me to drive you there?” Carol says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah. That will make Wanda so happy”

“Whipped” Carol jokes and you try to glare, but it hurts your eye.

Wanda barely put the kids to bed, when she hears a knock on the door. She’s prepared to give you an attitude but then sees your swollen cheek.

“Oh, my God, what happened to you, are you ok?” the brunette says, immediately forgetting she’s mad at you.

“It’s a long story. But that doesn’t matter. Listen, I know how it seems, I tell you I’m busy and when you call me I’m with Carol”

“I know you work together. It’s fine” Wanda lies.

“No, it’s not, come on”

“Ok, just come in and explain everything while I get you some ice, ok?”

“Thanks” you mutter, sitting at the kitchen counter. You fidget with your hands, not looking up until Wanda comes closer, her eyes soft as she moves the hair out of your face.

“Cold” she warns, placing a compress against your skin. You sigh with relief, holding her hand close.

“I’m sorry. I was called in to fix something I didn’t break”

“Don’t apologize for doing your job, Y/N” she says in a soft voice. “Is everyone ok? Is that how you got hurt?”

“Everyone’s ok. The parents were just pissed and I tried to break the fight”

“Does it hurt?” Wanda pulls the compress and examines the skin. It’s a little bruised, but not too swollen.

“It will later” you sigh.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You can kiss it better”

“Is that what Carol was doing earlier?” Wanda tilts her head, a dangerous look in her eyes that sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh, come on! Not fair!”

“I’m kidding” she says, finally kissing you softly. You close your eyes, relaxing for the first time in 12 hours. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, you were saving lives”

“What you feel is valid. Don’t apologize for it, ok? I’ll always listen to you, I promise” you kiss her hand, smiling when she blushes. “We’re still up for our date, right?”

“We can reschedule, you must be exhausted”

“Not a chance” you say, pulling her closer again. “I’ve been waiting too long for this”

“Well, alright. If you insist” she pecks your lips and you nod.

“I do”

“I have an… odd request” she says, avoiding your eyes.

“I won’t kink shame you, I promise”

“Can you be serious for just a second?” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. You make a motion to keep quiet, and let her speak. “Can you… pick me up around the block?”

“I can. But why am I doing it?”

“First of all, if the kids see you, they’ll want to tag along. And also… I’m not trying to be pessimistic here, I just want to protect them. It’s been the three of us since they were born and I’ve never even dated anyone, let alone someone they know” she takes a deep breath, hoping you won’t get upset.

“Billy and Tommy come first, always” you nod. “I agree to the new rule, or I can wear glasses and a fake mustache”

“Nope” she shakes her head, covering your mouth with her hand.

“A bald cap then” you mumble against her palm.

She figures the only way to make it stop is by kissing you and she leans forward, her lips against yours. You smile dreamily as she pulls apart.

“Now. Would you like some dinner?” Wanda offers, and you almost drop to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, Wanda Maximoff”

The way she blushes and giggles makes up for all the shitty things that happened in the past hours.

—

“There’s food and snacks, a list of phone numbers on the fridge in case of an emergency”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff,” Morgan says, following the woman around the house. It’s her first time babysitting the twins, but Wanda has known the girl since she started giving her private art lessons and trusts her.

“Boys, I’m leaving” Wanda calls, the kids standing up from the table to hug their mom goodbye. “Be good to Morgan, ok?”

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.

“A work thing” she lies, feeling terrible about hiding the truth from the twins. But still, she knows it’s for the best to keep this private.

She waves goodbye one last time and walks past the house, noticing your car is no longer in the driveway. Her heart beats fast at the expectation of an evening together.

“Hey, gorgeous” you greet, leaning against the passenger door. “You look absolutely stunning”

You admire how amazing she looks in a pair of jeans, a white tee and a long sleeve sweater.

“So do you” she kisses you, smiling as you open the door to the car.

“Thanks, the purple eye gives my look a nice touch” you say as you begin the drive.

“Are you gonna tell me where we are going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough” you say, hoping she likes the surprise. “First stop” you announce, opening the car door for Wanda and looking at the building in front of you.

“Artechouse. Oh, I’ve heard about this” Wanda nods, intrigued.

“I did too, but never made the time to go. Come on” you lead her to the entrance, showing your tickets. “There’s a small bar if you wanna have a drink before we go in”

“Let’s go in now” she says, looking everywhere.

You think it’s a good sign that she’s so interested in the exhibit, so you lead her to the start, both of you gasping as you enter a room that is projecting videos of flowers from floor to ceiling. Wanda’s hand searches yours in the dark, and you smile shyly as she holds it, walking around the room.

The intimacy of the place allows you to come closer, sharing everything you see in a low voice and enjoying the show.

“Check this out” you say, lifting your arm, the animation following your movements. Wanda lets out a laugh, doing the same.

Each room enchants Wanda even more, the next installation featuring plants that react to the touch with light and sound. Your favorite by far is the tree that reacts differently if you’re holding hands or hugging. As you walk up to it, Wanda is still holding your hand and you both look at the screen. Well, she’s looking at the projection and you’re looking at her, thinking how beautiful she is.

Taking a step forward, your arms go around her waist and you smile, admiring how the images change.

“It’s beautiful” Wanda whispers, turning to you. “You’re not looking”

“I have the best view right in front of me” you smile, happy when she kisses you softly.

Wanda takes her time examining everything and once she’s done, you walk to the exit.

“That was amazing. I forgot how much I enjoy these things. Thank you, Y/N”

“Glad you liked it”

“Best first date I’ve had,” she smiles.

“Oh, this is only the first part. You don’t really think I’d forget about the food, right?”

“Where are we going?”

“Well, there’s a very fancy option but I don’t feel like going with this thing on my face” you point at the bruise, annoyed. “If you’re feeling adventurous we could try something different?”

“You look perfectly fine, darling” she kisses your cheek. “But I’m up for an adventure, so lead the way”

“Awesome” you hold her hand, walking down the street and away from the museum. This is your favorite part of town, close to the pier and the little shops that are open until late.

You walk down the promenade, showing Wanda some of the places you love. There’s a small gallery, a cafe, and other shops.

“We’re here” you announce, pointing excitedly at the kebab shop. “This is fine, right? We can still go to the fancy place if you like”

“Sorry this place isn’t fancy enough for you, Majesty” the owner pops out of nowhere, scaring you.

“Samir! That’s not what I meant. You know I love your food”

“Mhm” he glares, but then smiles at Wanda. “What can I get for you, angel?”

“Well, what’s good here?” Wanda wonders, not as familiar with the dishes. “Maybe a shawarma”

“How about a kebab box, fries to share and a doner” you suggest, “And her shawarma, of course”

“That’s a lot of food” she protests and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m always eating leftovers before I leave for work so it’s fine, babe”

“Oh, well” she wants to scold you about your eating habits, but the pet name makes her dizzy.

You pay and lead them to a small table outside, unaware of Wanda’s flustered state. You hand over a soda and open your can, taking a sip.

“We can go to other art shows whenever you want, you know? Even if I don’t understand anything, I do enjoy watching you” you smile, laughing as Wanda’s cheeks go red at the comment.

“I did enjoy it, thank you. You come here often?”

“I do, I love the food here. Samir noticed I came late because of my shifts and he always saved me some food. Nice fella” you turn to make sure he’s not listening. “But I promise I’ll take you to dinner to that other place when I don’t look like a raccoon”

“You don’t have to”

“I kinda want to see you in a dress, all fancy like that time you left for another date” you smile at the memory of how beautiful she looked.

Wanda’s heart bursts with the way you look at her, complete adoration in your eyes. She’s almost left speechless, but her phone saves her.

“It’s my brother” she apologizes, taking the call. “Hi, Pietro. No, I’m not with them. Because, I’m out. Of course with a babysitter, stupid” she rolls her eyes, and then switches to a language that you don’t understand, but sounds like Russian. You look at her in awe, until Samir calls for you to get the food. By the time you’re back at the table, Wanda already hung up.

“Sorry about that”

“No, don’t worry. I guess I never asked, but are you Russian?”

“Sokovian” she corrects. “We moved to the States when Pietro and I were ten”

“Wow. I never… you don’t even have an accent”

“It slips up from time to time, especially if I’m angry or… flustered” Wanda says, and you almost choke on the food, thinking of all the ways you could make it come out.

“Oh, well” you clear your throat. “Is your brother ok?”

“Yeah, he wanted to ask the boys something about video games that I don’t understand. I’m sure you would”

“I don’t know, my knowledge is limited to things that existed when I was a kid. How’s the food?”

“Amazing. Wow” Wanda says, pleased with the flavor of the meat and how it compliments the rice and dips.

“See? We’re good enough for a first date” Samir shouts from the kitchen.

“Stop listening to our conversation” you shout back and he grumbles. Wanda smiles, thinking of something she’s wanted to ask for a while now.

“Do you ever visit your family?”

“No, not really” you shake your head. “I pretty much left for college and never returned. Except this one Christmas, where I was feeling kind of lonely and tired. I just wanted to be home, but everything was so different, my half siblings were just too much to handle for anyone… and I didn’t even know what to do, no one bought me a present because I was never around and they just thought I’d be gone like last year”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“It’s fine” you shrug your shoulders. “I know it’s weird, but I like my life, you know? My colleagues are great, I’m doing what I love… and if I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s their loss” Wanda smiles, kissing you. You smile against her lips. “You can always spend the holidays with us, you know? I mean, it’s too soon to talk about it, I’m just saying”

“That would be nice” you interrupt her rambling. “Now, I have something very important to ask. Out of all the neighbors, which one is the most annoying and why?”

“Well, I’d say it’s… Agatha”

“Harkness! Yes! I knew you disliked her too”

Wanda laughs and you keep the conversation going. By the time you’re done, you pay and leave a big tip for Samir, who gives you a hug as you leave the store.

“I’m so full” Wanda says, patting her stomach.

“I know. Oh, you want ice cream?” you say, remembering the gelato store that is a few shops ahead.

“You just said you were full!”

“It’s ice cream, come on” you take her hand, and pay for two cones. Wanda orders strawberry while you opt for chocolate.

“How is it?” you ask as you walk down the pier, enjoying the view.

“Amazing, have some” she offers the cone, but you kiss her instead. “That’s not what I meant” Wanda laughs against your lips.

“Well, it tastes amazing to me” you say, leaning forward and chasing after her soft lips, the flavor lingering as you deepen the kiss. Wanda sighs against your mouth, pulling you closer until your hand goes down her waist. “Best ice cream I’ve ever had”

“Yeah” Wanda nods, her eyes closed. You peck her lips one last time, and continue your walk, still talking about everything you can think of, enjoying each other’s company.

When she checks the time more than once you get the hint, ready to go home.

“I’m sorry, I’m just being annoying, we can stay longer”

“It’s ok, I know you like to be home early. Come on, we can drink wine or I’ll let you go to bed”

You rest your hand on Wanda’s leg for the entire ride home, unaware that your touch is making the woman restless. When you’re close to your house, you stop exactly where you picked Wanda up.

“I can just park at home, right? The boys are probably asleep”

“Yeah” Wanda nods, flustered. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when she moves forward, pulling you down for a rough kiss that takes your breath away. It’s a bit messy and desperate, and you ignore the strain of your seatbelt as Wanda pulls you closer to her, sighing against your mouth.

“You can’t park here!” an annoying person knocks on your window and you both break apart. “Oh, my! Wanda? Doctor Y/L/N?”

Damn it, it’s Agatha Harkness. Your nosy, annoying neighbor. Rolling down the window and smoothing your clothes, you smile at her.

“Hey, Miss Harkness. Sorry, I’ll move right now”

“No, don’t worry” she gives you a sly smile. “Have a good night, you two love birds”

“Night, Agatha” Wanda says and you turn on the car, finally parking in your driveway.

“That was fun” you comment, opening the door for Wanda and crossing the street to walk her home.

“Yeah, just our luck” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. “Wanna come in? Or do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Not until Saturday. Come on” you let her lead you to her house, opening the door as quietly as possible. Wanda sees Morgan at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

“How did everything go?”

“Great, they went to sleep an hour ago”

“Morgan Stark?” you greet, closing the door behind you.

“You two know each other?” Wanda says.

“Yeah, my parents work at the hospital with Doctor Y/L/N” Morgan says, waving at you. “Nice to see you”

“Did you drive here? Or want me to take you home?”

“It’s fine, I drove here” she says, and you hand over some money before Wanda can pay her.

“Drive safely, ok? Don’t want your dad giving me crap on the next meeting”

“Will do. Good night, Miss Maximoff”

“Night, Morgan”

“You didn’t have to pay for that too” Wanda says, kissing you. “But thank you”

“Anytime. How do you know Morgan?” you nod when she offers you a glass of wine and you walk to the living room with her.

“I’m giving her private art lessons. She’s really good. Had no idea her parents were doctors”

“Not just any doctors, baby” you say, taking a sip. “Tony’s father built the hospital we work in. And he’s done some amazing research in neurosurgery. Pepper is also one of the best plastic surgeons in the world”

“Wow, Morgan is so sweet and down to Earth”

“She gets that from her mom, Tony can be an ass” you mutter and Wanda laughs. “So, did I secure a second date?”

“A third one as well. But only if I can pay for the next one”

“Nu-uh. I’m spoiling you, baby” you say, your hand going to her leg. You notice how Wanda’s cheeks turn red, and you’re not sure if it’s the nickname or the contact. “Come here”

You take her glass of wine, approaching her slowly and kissing her. It’s tender at first, but then your hands travel to her lower back, and Wanda moans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss, sighing when she pushes you on your back, climbing on top of you.

Wanda kisses down your neck, biting slightly. The sudden nip makes your hips jolt forward, and she has to hold back another moan.

“I don’t know how you do it” she says, shivering when your hands travel down and cup her ass through her jeans.

“Do what, baby?”

“Drive me crazy with just one touch”

“Let me take care of you” you ask, kissing her, your hands going all the way to the front of her pants.

“Mom?”

“Shit” she mutters, both of her hands covering your mouth. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m thirsty,” Tommy says.

“Alright, don’t come down, I’ll be right there, ok?” she says, hoping the boy hasn’t noticed anything strange. But he’s too sleepy so he just agrees and returns to his room. “I’m sorry”

She removes her hands from your mouth, helping you up.

“It’s fine, I enjoy the choking but just give me a heads up”

“Stop” she says, blushing. “I’ll be right back. Unless, you want to go? I’m sorry”

“I can stay” you nod, smiling at her disheveled state.

“Alright, I’ll be back” Wanda promises, pecking your lips.

You sit up, fixing your hair and taking a sip of the wine to calm down.

“Everything ok?” you say as Wanda comes down. She nods, smiling and sitting next to you.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think they’d be up. Maybe… we could wait a bit? When I’m not worried about the boys walking in on anything”

“Of course. Come here” you open your arms, and she settles, leaning her head against your shoulder. You kiss her temple. “Wanna watch some tv?”

“What about a sitcom? I love watching those”

“Like Friends?”

“Like Bewitched or… The Dick Van Dyke show” she says and you laugh, completely caught off guard by the suggestion.

“You’re fascinating, Wanda Maximoff” you say, handing over the remote, ready to watch whatever she wants.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

423 notes · View notes

kittenlittle24 · 5 months ago

Text

Cleopatra

As always, gif not mine, likes and comments are appreciated!

Masterlist

You were a few years younger than Gregory House when you met. Before he suffered an infarction in his right leg, before he met Stacy.

You met Gregory House when he was a resident and you were in your last year of high school. You came to visit a friend that was hospitalized. He was sharp and quick, he saw things others missed or ignored and knew how to connect the dots.

He was the reason you went to study medicine, though unlike him you became a surgeon. Despite his reputation, for you, he had a soft spot and helped you with your studies, and was never too mean to you. Of course, he pushed you to your limits so you’d be the best but he never did anything to hurt you.

When he had his infection and diagnosed himself you visited him in the hospital and he told you he chose the painful path to keep his leg. He chose to undergo a procedure to bypass circulation around the dead muscle. The result was intense pain during the healing process.

That was also where you met his girlfriend. In one of the times visiting him, she was sitting with him, one hand holding his, the other stroking his face. You felt your stomach clench at the sight but pushed through when his eyes met yours. You planted a fake smile on your lips and entered the room, you knew he was in too much pain to see through you.

A few days later your phone rang, and his name popped on screen, though it wasn’t his rough voice that greeted you. It was instead Stacy’s. Asking for your opinion about Cuddy’s middle-ground offer, it didn’t matter how much you objected because, in the end, you understood that she had her mind made up as soon as he asked to be placed in a chemically induced coma.

After that phone call, you rushed to the hospital, hoping you would get there before he’s taken to surgery.

You reached the hallway just as he was pulled out of the room, Stacy exited behind him, “Stop! Please!”

Grabbing Stacy’s attention, she shook her head at the nurses taking him before she marched straight up to you and told you to stay away and put you on the not allowed to visit list.

You desperately wanted to be there for him but Stacy didn’t like having a young groupie around her boyfriend and made sure that you knew that. You didn’t come back after that. You were petrified that he would blame you for not stopping Stacy.

You got an offer for a fellowship at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and decided to take it because you heard he works there now. You felt that you had unfinished business between the two of you. You weren’t sure whether what drove you back was guilt or the feelings you pushed down since the day you met him.

You’d like to think you’ve changed in the last few years. Superficially, you changed your hair and the way you dressed. But you also grew, you weren’t some meek resident or a high schooler blinded by her adoration for him, you were a stronger and more resilient person now.

Or so you’d like to think.

About a month into your fellowship a young female doctor with long brown hair, walked up to you introduced herself as Dr Cameron, and asked if you could get your boss to help with her case. Learning she’s on a fellowship as well you quickly became friends and it wasn’t long before she exposed that she’s a fellow under one Dr Greg House. You exchanged details and promised to hang out before going your separate ways. You occasionally saw him in the cafeteria or the clinic; if he recognized you he never admitted it. You felt that same stomach clench when you saw him eating lunch with Wilson and Stacy walked up to them to talk.

Much later that day, or rather night, you walked to the glass block office, staring at the clear door on which in white capital letters GREGORY HOUSE, MD. Was written.

You turned sharply at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you. There he stood, a black blazer on a light blue shirt and a cane in his right hand.

Seeing him this close you noticed the grey hairs and the crowfeet and realized a lot must have happened in the last five years since you saw each other.

“I was curious how long it would take you to come to see me.” He stated.

Lowering your head, you didn’t know if to be happy or anxious that he recognized you. Moving past you, he opened the door and walked into his office.

“Are you coming in or not?” He asked holding the door for you.

You didn’t need to be asked twice, rushing inside you watched him limp to his desk before taking a seat and raising his leg to rest on his desk.

Taking a pill bottle out of his inner pocket, he rattled it before opening it and popping a pill into his mouth.

“Are you still involved with Stacy?”

Placing the Vicodin bottle on his glass desk and picking up his red ball instead, “Nope.” He replied as he tossed and caught it, playing catch with himself.

Feeling a slight relief at his answer, you glanced at the chair on the opposite end, you considered sitting but you were still too anxious and hyped about what was about the nearing discussion and chose to stare outside the window behind him.

“You asked a question, now, my turn.” He stated as he continued to play with his ball, never looking at you, “Why disappear and suddenly reappear?”

“Those are two questions.” You whispered still staring at the dark skyline.

Putting the ball down, he pulled his legs down, grabbed his cane, and came to stand in your face, “Let me rephrase, where were you when they agreed to surgically remove my muscle?”

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath, “She asked to stay away. Stacy called to consult about the surgery, I knew that she had her mind set and that she wouldn’t listen to anything I was going to say.”

He took a small step forward, which made you retreat, “You didn’t stop them.” He excused.

Feeling a tear slide down your cheek, you harshly wiped it as if he didn’t see it.

“I tried House! I had no power, she was your appointed medical proxy and she told me to stay away.”

As if the fight left him, House went silent. Walking past you he left his office and headed straight to the elevator.

You let out a shaky breath as you heavily sat down and covered your face with your palms. You knew you weren’t done yet.

He barged into Stacy’s office, the door slamming against the wall from the force he used on it.

“You sent Y/n away?”

Dropping the papers she was reading she leaned back in her chair, “I’m surprised she didn’t run to tell until now.”

Standing up she moved to lean against her desk, “She was in love with you, probably still is. I had to fight for our relationship every day after your surgery enough, I didn’t need her there to watch me fail and wait to take my spot.”

“You were so insecure about our relationship that you sent her away from me.” He concluded.

He shook his head and left her office to go back to his. He paused at the doorway when she called his name but didn’t turn to face her.

“She worships you, don’t ruin it.”

He nodded once and walked away.

Once he reached his office door he hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle. He stared at the back of your head, seemingly you didn’t move while he went to confront Stacy. Sighing he pushed the door open and entered it.

“I take it Stacy told you the same I did.” You softly said as you mindlessly pushed something back and forth on top of his desk, your back still facing him.

Taking a couple of steps forward, he tapped his cane on the carpet, “Also shared this interesting theory that you’re in love with me.”

You turned in your seat, your arm resting on the backrest as you stared at him, not knowing if he was yanking your chain or actually dense.

“Not going to deny yet?”

Standing up you stepped up to him, “House, are you kidding me? I'd be your mistress just to have you around.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline, he opened his mouth to say some sarcastic remark but stopped himself.

After a few seconds in which he stayed silent, “I came here to apologize for not fighting harder, maybe-“

“There wasn’t anything you could have done. Stacy wouldn’t have let you.”

Shaking your head, “Probably not, but I still owe you an apology. And I am sorry I wasn’t there.”

Walking past him towards the door, “I guess I’ll see you around, Dr. House.”

#imagine #greg house #gregory house #gregory house x reader #house md #house md x reader #greg house imagine #house md fanfiction #x reader #greg house x reader #Youtube #gregory house fanfiction #gregory house imagine #house imagine #angst #light angst #song fic #song inspired

309 notes · View notes

conceptualsurgery · 11 days ago

Text

What to Do in Surgery Practice and Residency?

Knowing where to focus during the Surgery Residency can make all the difference for a general surgery resident. The foundation of clinical skills has to be strong enough, the case discussions have to be productive, and lessons from experienced surgeons have to be learned. Continuous practice with academic activities will help you succeed in the operating room and build your confidence as a future surgeon. To ace your residency check out Conceptual Surgery's resources designed by legendary faculty and for surgery residents to guide you on each step of your journey to success.

0 notes

therealmrsgojo · 9 months ago

Text

Timeless

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: you have been dreaming of a man ever since you were little; different lives with him were spent in your dreams, but when you wake up, his face becomes blurry, and you forget his name. maybe, in your real life, you might see him too. warnings: past lives, reincarnation au, kinda inspired by a song called timeless, soldier gojo, captain gojo, doctor reader, mentions of injuries, dreams, death, angst, comfort, and happy ending. word count: 10.5k

"I know that you and I would've found each other In another life, you still would've turned my head."

Present day

Sitting in the hospital break room, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of your exhaustion.

The walls around you are stark white, and you lean back in your chair, cradling your third cup of coffee for the day. Despite the caffeine coursing through your veins, you can't shake off the fatigue that has settled into your bones.

Still holding your coffee, you trudge the hallway toward the restroom, your feet dragging on the tiles. You're grateful for the brief respite, a chance to relieve yourself, and take a moment to collect your thoughts.

You entered the restroom, and you glanced at yourself in the large mirror above the sink.

"What a sight you are." You can't help but chuckle at your unkempt hair, crumpled collar, and slightly moist eyes that beg for rest. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it down and look presentable.

As a third-year general surgery resident at the prestigious University of Tokyo Hospital, you know that exhaustion is par for the course. Your days are filled with evaluating patients, obtaining medical histories, performing physical examinations, and assisting in surgeries.

In spite of the exhaustion and doubts that creep into your mind, you remember that one gratitude from a patient can make it all worth it.

Helping people has always had your heart in it.

You finished using the restroom and washed your hands at the sink, cleaning rigorously. After drying your hands, you grabbed your coffee cup and sipped the last bit of your warm beverage before disposing it in the nearby trash bin.

Exiting the restroom, you checked the time on your watch and realized with dismay that you had been working tirelessly for 14 straight hours. Your mind and body begged for rest.

Sighing deeply, you called it a day and reached for your smartphone to text your colleague about your departure. You made your way towards the rest areas of your residency building, eager to collapse on one of the double deck beds.

Entering the rest area, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the inviting beds that you had been dreaming of all day. You remove your top shirt, knowing no one is around to see you and replace it with fresh clothes from your mini drawer.

After removing your shoes, you crawl onto the soft mattress and let out a small laugh of contentment.

"Fucking finally." You stretched your limbs and pulled the blanket over your body, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling the day's stress slowly melt away as you drift off to sleep.

1944

The morning was calm and peaceful, with warm kisses pressed onto your skin, creating a sense of comfort and safety. You could feel your husband's hands roaming around your waist as he whispered sweet promises on your skin.

Slowly waking up from your slumber, you reached out to the hands holding your waist, sensing something amiss.

"Satoru, what's wrong?" Your worried voice asked as you looked at the man hugging you as if it were the end of the world.

"Just hugging my beautiful wife," he replied with a smile as he moved closer to you, kissing your lips lovingly and slowly. You gazed at him, seeing his white hair and piercing blue eyes that always made your heart ache with love and longing.

As the kiss ended, you whispered, "It's today, isn't it?" His smile faltered, and you could sense the anxiety and fear in his eyes.

It was today, the day your husband was to be deployed to the war. You felt a churn in your stomach as you remembered all the stories of the horrors of war and the uncertainty of whether he would return home alive or not.

You avoided his gaze, afraid that he would see the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You knew you needed to be strong in front of him, to support him and lift his spirits. You didn't want him to be stressed or distracted on the war front, as that would be the last thing he needed.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and soft, "Can we hug more before we get out of our bed? I wouldn't mind being late today if that means I get to be with you more."

Without a word, you nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. You looked into his eyes and said, "I love you."

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Minutes that felt like seconds passed, and before you knew it, your husband was walking away from the porch of your home. You watched him leave as you stood on the porch of your home, cradling your hands to your chest.

It was hard to hold back your tears as you watched him walk away, the distance between you growing with each step.

But then, Satoru turned back, looking at you with a pained expression. Without hesitation, he ran back to you and tightly wrapped his arms around you. You sobbed, feeling his tears fall on your shoulders.

"I promise to get back home as soon as possible, okay? Don't be too sad. I promise I'll come back to you. We'll see each other again, every time. You wait for me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he cupped your face as if trying to memorize your features.

He kissed away your tears and continued, "I'll write you letters so you won't get too lonely."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of love and sadness in your heart. "Take care of yourself, Satoru. I'll wait for your return," you said softly, holding him close.

Kisses were exchanged, hands were tangled in each other's hair as the two of you promised to see each other again. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew your love would endure, no matter how far apart you were.

As time flew by, days turned into weeks, which then transformed into months, marking the most prolonged duration you had ever been separated from your husband since your marriage.

The distance between you both seemed unbearable, and the only way to stay connected was through letters sent back and forth. Every word written in these letters was crafted with the utmost care and love as both of you poured your hearts out on the paper.

Gojo Satoru took every opportunity to share the most minor details with you, expressing his love and longing for you.

You developed a daily routine of reading his letters, savoring each and every word as if it were a vital source of oxygen. The mere act of holding those pieces of paper in your hands and tracing your fingers over his familiar handwriting brought you a sense of comfort that nothing else could.

It was as though your heart could only find solace in the assurance that he was still out there; he's alive in the middle of the war, thinking of you and missing you just as much as you missed him.

Letters that can soothe the ache in your chest.

I can't even begin to describe how much I miss you, my dear wife. Every single day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed, you're on my mind. I think about the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you love. You are the most important person in my life, and I cherish every moment we've spent together. I know we're apart right now, but please know that my love for you is as strong as ever. I hope to see you soon, hold you, kiss you, and tell you how much you mean to me. You are the light of my life, my light in this war. I love you more than words can express, and I can't wait to be with you again.

As you finish reading the final lines of the latest letter you received, you can't help but feel a warm glow spread across your chest. You place the letter on your bedside table, making a mental note to write back tomorrow and express how much you appreciate their words.

With a contented sigh, you reach for your comb and carefully work out the tangles and knots in your hair. The rhythmic motion of the combing is soothing, and you feel yourself growing more and more relaxed as you prepare for bed.

After caring for your hair, you finally finished and decided to call it a night. You tossed and turned around the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail.

A deep frown formed on your face as you kept your eyes closed, hoping that sleep would eventually come.

You let out a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes to find that your husband's side of the bed is empty. Your heart sank as you stared at the vacant space beside you, looking bare and empty.

You try to shake off the feeling, but it persists, and you find yourself unable to look away from his spot.

After several minutes of staring at the bed, you finally pull yourself out of it and walk to the closet. You start digging through your husband's clothes, searching for something that still carries his scent.

Finally, you find one of his shirts and hold it up to your nose, taking a deep breath.

The familiar scent of his envelops you; tears start streaming down your face as you clutch the shirt to your chest, whispering silent prayers for your husband's safety. You sob into the shirt, longing to be with him and wishing that he was there to hold you to sleep.

You were only able to sleep, hugging his clothes tightly on your chest.

Another month passed, and you found yourself walking back to your humble abode, a basket full of fresh produce tightly clutched in your hands. The sun began to set, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink.

You smiled as you thought about the meal you would prepare for your husband, Satoru, later that evening.

You received a letter from him just last week informing you that he would return home today after being finally discharged from the war.

Standing in the kitchen, you were determined to prepare the dish to perfection, having the recipe memorized like the back of your hand. You carefully measured the ingredients, double-checking each one to ensure everything was just right. As you stirred the pot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the sight of the fragrant steam rising from the mixture.

You knew your husband deserved the best and were determined to give him just that.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grew as you imagined his face with his bright blue eyes, knowing he would like this delicious meal he craved from his letters.

The savory aroma of your cooking wafted through the entire kitchen as you put the finishing touches on the plates and set them on the dining table.

Everything was ready; all that was left to do was wait for your significant other to arrive.

You walked over to the living room and positioned yourself near the front door, where you could see and hear anyone approaching. You checked the time and noticed that it was getting late. You couldn't help but wonder if he would be later than usual.

As the hours ticked by, the darkness of the night seemed to grow heavier, food forgotten and cold as your anxiety began to mount.

You waited patiently, but worry was evident on your face. You found yourself staring at the clock, hoping to see his arrival soon.

The minutes turned into hours, and your eyes grew heavy as you sat alone, waiting for him to arrive.

Eventually, you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer and decided to rest, thinking that his knock would wake you up.

You were startled by a series of loud knocks on your door. Your eyes fluttered open just in time to catch a glimpse of the bright sunshine peeking through your curtains.

You realized that you had slept through the entire night, and it was morning.

Feeling a sudden rush of excitement, you quickly got out of the couch and dashed towards the door, a wide grin spreading across your face. You were unfazed by the delay. All that mattered was that your husband had finally arrived.

You opened the door, and a tall and muscular man with long black hair partially tied up in a man bun greeted you.

Your smile faded, and your heart sank as you realized he was not who you were hoping for.

"Good morning, I'm looking for Gojo Y/N," he said softly.

"I am Gojo Y/N," you answered, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. You wondered who this man was and why he was looking for you.

He then started to search his backpack, and you finally took notice of his clothes. It was no doubt that he was in the military, judging by the clothes he wore. He wore a green camouflage shirt and pants and a black tactical backpack slung over one shoulder.

Finally, he pulled out an envelope and a dog tag, which he held out to you. Your heart began to race as you saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope - it was your husband's.

"What?" You took the items with your trembling hands, muttering, "What is this?"

Your mind had some understanding, but your heart refused to believe.

"We were on our way back when a sudden explosion took place. It occurred from the military truck he was riding with. Despite our efforts, we couldn't find survivors or even bodies. It was a devastating experience that left us shaken and heartbroken." He started, eyes looking down as he continued, "I am sorry for your loss -"

"Stop," you interrupted him firmly, lips quivering with emotion, "Please stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of sorrow and concern. "I'm Geto Suguru," he introduced himself, his voice gentle. "Tomorrow, we will be holding a memorial for them, even if we don't have the remains. You can find me there if you go. I'm sure Satoru wouldn't like for you to be alone. He would hate me if that happened." He paused momentarily, adding, "I'll come back and check on you. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Leave," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. You didn't have the strength to look at him, so you turned around and closed the door loudly.

You took heavy steps towards the bedroom, feeling the weight of your grief crushing down on you. As you entered the room, you sank to the ground, the letter still clutched tightly in your hand.

You began to hyperventilate, your chest heaving with sobs as you struggled to catch your breath. You let out a loud, piercing scream, the pain and anger in your heart bursting forth. You threw the letter to the ground and shouted curses into the empty room, your hands gripping your hair tightly as you rocked back and forth.

"You're a liar!" Tears streamed down your face as you shouted, consumed by the overwhelming heartache and anguish that had taken hold of you.

Reading that letter would mean accepting his death, and you refused to do so.

You cried uncontrollably for hours, hugging yourself tightly as if to protect yourself from the harsh reality. Your face was puffy and red from all the tears you shed as you called out for your husband's name, wishing this was all a dream.

But deep down, you knew he wouldn't come back. If only you had known, you would have never gone to the trouble of cooking his favorite meal, fixing his clothes, preparing his bath, or smoothing the side of his bed.

Now, all you have is you, sitting amidst the dark walls of your home and the weight of misery that surrounds you. It's a deep grief that seems to envelop you like a heavy blanket that you can't escape from.

The only sounds you can hear are the sobs escaping your lips and the breath you no longer want to take. You look around, taking in the familiar surroundings that, once filled with hope that he would return as he promised you, are now unattainable and shattered.

A sense of heaviness seems to saturate every corner of the room, leaving you feeling adrift and detached from the world outside.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and darkness enveloped the room.

You realized with a start that you had been sitting in the same spot for hours, unmoving, ever since you received the devastating news about your husband.

Your mind was racing with a million thoughts and emotions, and you felt utterly paralyzed by the weight of it all.

As you looked around, you noticed the letter your husband had left on the ground, still untouched. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to face whatever was written inside. But then you took a deep breath and made up your mind to read it.

Slowly, you reached for the letter, fingers trembling with anticipation and anxiety.

As you unfolded the paper, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you as you saw your name first.

My dearest Y/N, If you are reading this letter, it means that I have departed from this world, my wife. But I have not left you. I could never leave you alone, not even for a moment. I would never do that to you. I want you to remember that my love for you will never die, not even in our next life. I will carry it with me always, wherever I go. As a soldier, I am aware of the risks involved in every mission, and I write this letter to you with a heavy heart that I can barely breathe, hoping that you will never have to read this, and if you do, please forgive me. The time we spent together was the best years of my life, and I cherish every memory we created. When you came into my life, heaven had opened its gates for me. Knowing you was the most incredible honor I could ever have. Even if gold or silver is placed on my grave, nothing will ever compare to the love you've given me. I don't have any major regrets in my life, but if there is one thing that I wish I could have done differently, it's that I wasn't able to give you the gift of a family. I know that having children was important to you, and it hurts me deeply that I wasn't able to make that happen for us. I hope you can forgive me for not being able to fulfill this dream of ours. I am scared, Y/N, scared that you will not take care of yourself, scared that you will forget about me. Please promise me that you will care for yourself and live a long and happy life. I do not want you to worry about me or grieve for too long, for I will always be with you, watching over you. Please always remember that I love you more than anything in this world. I promise I'll return to you, and we'll find each other again in our next life. You can count on that. You can rely on that. I could write endless letters, but I don't want to cause you any more pain. Please know I'll always be with you; I will keep my promise. Your husband, Gojo Satoru PS: I know that we will meet again, my wife.

You feel a tremble in your hands as you finish reading the letter your husband wrote to you. Tears flow down your cheeks despite the pain that it causes your eyes, as you have been crying for hours.

You hold his letter tightly against your chest, whimpering your husband's name as you take shallow breaths. The words he wrote to you are etched deeply into your heart and soul, as they are the last you will ever hear from him.

Gojo Satoru had loved you until his very last breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, 'Toru," you croak out, sobbing uncontrollably as you whisper apologies like a mantra that could somehow bring your husband back to life.

You regret calling him a liar earlier, and you wish that you nothing but take back those words.

Present

You suddenly opened your eyes, whines leaving your lips and the heaviness in your chest. You were crying.

Confused and disoriented, you looked around the room and noticed Shoko, your colleague resident doctor, sitting beside you. She had a startled expression, but she was doing her best to gently comfort you by patting your back.

You knew you must have been dreaming again, but the details were hazy and blurry. It was strange and unsettling, like you had just awakened from a different reality.

Trying to recall the details of the dream, you realized that it was vivid, but you couldn't remember everything.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Y/N. You have been crying and trashing in your sleep." Shoko gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Another weird dream of yours?" She added, giving you a bottled water.

You nod in agreement, feeling a bit dizzy. Shoko was your childhood friend whom you have known since grade school. She had been the person you had confided in about your strange and unsettling dreams for as long as you could remember.

You took a sip of water and tried to gather your thoughts. "This time, he was a soldier, and he, he died," you muttered, barely able to articulate the jumbled images that had been plaguing you. "God, I swear I can see his face and say his name in my dreams, but it's all blurred now."

Shoko nodded sympathetically, her expression one of concern. "This has been going on since we were kids, Y/N," she replied, her voice gentle and soothing. "I remember the last time you cried like that, was when you told me about that white-haired man and how you ran away together because you were supposed to marry another man." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I suggested that you seek help, maybe from a dream interpreter or something."

You take a few moments to regain your composure and try to piece together what happened.

The memories of your past dreams rushed back to you, and you were sure it had been the same man you had never met before.

"I don't really have the time for that right now. I can barely manage to go home and visit my mom," you replied, gripping your hair in frustration. Your best friend then stood up to take off her lab coat.

"I also researched some things about that," Shoko said, trying to reassure you. "It can be your past life or past memory."

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "I think I'm going insane," you muttered, entirely overwhelmed by the situation.

Your best friend chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, that's another possibility, too," she said. "Especially since you've never even had a boyfriend at the age of twenty-five. You're a hopeless romantic, my friend."

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. You had tried to put yourself out there, going on blind dates and meeting new people, but nothing ever seemed to stick. You just couldn't seem to fall in love, no matter how hard you tried.

And now, with these dreams, you felt even more lost.

"I feel like I'll betray him if I did," you mumbled to yourself, feeling guilty for even considering the possibility of falling in love with someone else. You knew it was irrational, but the thought of being with anyone else didn't sit right with you.

You glanced at Shoko and wished her a quick goodbye, knowing that she was going to take some rest now. You then got up from bed, feeling refreshed after a good six-hour sleep.

You walked over to your assigned drawer and picked out all the necessary items; you went to the bathroom to shower.

The warm water cascaded down your body, washing away all the tiredness and exhaustion from your mind. As you finished your shower, you quickly dried yourself off and got into the fresh set of clothes you had picked earlier. You then took a moment to dry your hair and put some moisturizer on your face to keep it hydrated throughout the day. Lastly, you applied a thin layer of pink lipgloss, ensuring your lips were soft and supple.

After getting ready, you checked your phone and saw a few notifications reminding you of your daily responsibilities.

With a deep breath, you set out to tackle the day head-on, feeling energized and motivated to fulfill all your duties.

You made your way down the hospital's long hallway, and your footsteps echoed through the corridor. You straightened the collar of your white lab coat, feeling the cool fabric against the back of your neck.

Approaching a corner, you saw two nurses chatting quietly to each other behind the information table. Nobara, one of the nurses, noticed you and greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Y/N!" she exclaimed, holding a folder towards you. "Here are the files for the patients you'll be doing morning check-ups on today."

You took the folder and smiled back at Nobara, appreciating her enthusiastic attitude. You flipped through the pages, taking note of any potential issues or concerns.

The hospital loudspeaker blared out, "Code Blue, Code Blue! All available doctors, nurses, and medical staff near the emergency room are needed. Code Blue." It was a clear indication that something serious had happened that required the attention of all medical personnel in the vicinity.

Without wasting time, you quickly handed your folder to Nobara, who stashed it away and promptly moved to join you. The two of you rushed to the emergency bay, and as soon as you arrived, your eyes widened in shock as you saw a chaotic scene; medical personnel were running around, attending to the patients.

Stretchers were being hurriedly moved around, and people rushed around the hospital room in a frenzy.

As you tried to take in the situation, a first-year resident named Maki called you, "Dr. Y/N, there has been a shooting incident, and we were instructed to apply first aid as soon as possible." Her voice was filled with urgency, and you knew that time was of the essence.

"Got that, Maki. Nobara, please gather some supplies." You immediately got to work, assessed the situation, and walked towards the patient nearest to you.

You heard Nobara's footsteps approaching; she quickly laid out all the necessary medical supplies beside you. Your focus was solely on the patient before you, and you worked with precision and care as you began cleaning the wounded area. The nurse beside you looked on in amazement as she watched you work.

"Dr. Y/N, I must say, I have never seen someone work as swiftly and diligently as you do," she mumbled in awe, her voice filled with admiration. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle in response before turning your attention back to your patient.

After skillfully completing the stitching procedure on your patient, you took a minute to ensure everything was perfectly in place.

You then carefully removed your medical gloves, disposing of them safely while relaying crucial information regarding the next steps your patient needs.

"Help! My captain needs help, anyone please!" You suddenly heard a panicked voice calling out. You turned around to see a man with pink hair, dressed in a green military uniform, running towards you with a look of desperation on his face.

He then grabbed your wrists and pulled you towards one of the bed stretchers in the hospital.

You gently removed his hands from your wrists and asked, "What happened? How can I help?" The man was panting heavily, and it took a moment for him to compose himself. He explained, "My captain needs help urgently. He's been injured protecting me, and I think he stopped breathing. I don't know what to do."

You quickened your pace upon hearing his explanation, and as you approached the scene, you caught a glimpse of his captain lying on a stretcher, looking pale and in pain.

But as you moved closer, your eyes widened in shock as you recognized the white-haired man lying on the stretcher, the same man who had been evading your dreams ever since you were little.

Throughout your life, this man has appeared in your dreams, eluding your grasp and leaving you with a sense of longing and curiosity. He has also been a constant presence in your thoughts, occupying your mind as you go about your daily life.

When you were in high school, you found yourself drawing him in the back of your notebooks, trying to capture his essence on paper.

There were times when you even cried over him, missing him despite never having met or even knowing his name.

This man has left an indelible mark on your heart and soul; now he is in front of you, unmoving and not breathing.

"No, no, no." The memories of your last dreams played in your head, making you panic, and your breaths became labored as a surge of panic engulfed your body, causing you to tremble uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Nobara's voice called out your name, breaking you out of your trance. "Dr. Y/N! Are you okay? He's not breathing," she said, noticing your distress, as she sat beside the man.

You immediately sprang into action, shouting orders frantically, "Step back, now! Get the Defibrillator and ECG Machine, immediately. Call for a cardiac doctor, too."

You quickly propped yourself on the man's bed, removing his pillow to flatten his body. Your hands pressed down on his chest as you began giving him chest compressions, counting 30 on your head while taking notice of his face.

You weren't mistaken. It was him. How could you ever forget his face?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued with the chest compressions, making sure the steps were precise and accurate. Nobara returned a moment later, quickly followed by one of the cardiac doctors named Utahime, who placed the medical equipment on the body of the white-haired man. But your focus remained on the compressions as you ignored everything else.

Utahime noticed the sweat on your forehead and offered to take over, "Dr. Y/N, I can take over." But you shook your head, "No. Start working with the Defibrillator, please. I'm almost done."

You and Utahime worked together, following the necessary steps to revive the man. The minutes seemed like an eternity as you could barely breathe due to nervousness.

Finally, you heard his heartbeat back in the monitor beside you. You stared at him, your hands shaking lightly as you finally calmed down.

One medical staff wheeled the captain into one of the rooms, and Utahime turned to you, "Do you know him? Don't worry; he is in good hands. We'll do everything we can to help. Everything is under control now. You can take a rest."

You fulfilled your other responsibilities, your mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the white-haired man you had encountered. Despite the passage of time, he continued to linger in your thoughts. His face kept flashing in your eyes.

Throughout the day, Utahime informed you about the man's condition, providing updates on his progress as he received medical attention.

You expressed your gratitude to her for keeping you in the loop, and she promised to let you know as soon as he woke up from his unconscious state.

"Y/N," you were startled by Shoko's arrival, "You haven't eaten, have you? I heard you helped with the emergency earlier, too. Come on, let's eat." She said.

You nodded wordlessly, following your friend to the cafeteria. As she ordered, Shoko noticed that your eyes were fixed on the ground, and you kept sighing. Sensing that something was troubling you, she asked, "What's wrong? Tell me."

You hesitated at first, not knowing how to convey your thoughts. You finally took another deep breath and said, "I don't know if you'll believe me, but I met him earlier." You sighed, feeling a heavy weight in your chest as memories of him flooded again in your mind.

Shoko looked at you quizzically and asked, "Who?" You looked back at her, not knowing how to answer when you didn't even know the man's name. It took a few minutes for her to understand, but when she did, she let out a loud screech of shock and shouted your name. "What? What's his name? Where is he? What happened!?" she asked, her hands shaking your shoulders.

Shoko's expression softened as she saw the tears welling up in your eyes. "Oh, I see," she said empathetically. "How can you be sure that it's him? What are your plans, honey?"

"It's him, Shoko," you said, feeling your voice shake a little. "I can't believe that I even forgot his face. But I don't know. I feel like I should not approach him at all. I would sound like an insane person if I ever did."

She sighed and said, "Who said you need to tell him immediately? You can just drop by and say hello. Let fate play out on its own, Y/N. You don't need to do anything about it."

You smiled at your best friend, grateful for her advice and carefree attitude that you needed. You spent the rest of the meal together, describing him to her and enjoying each other's company.

You were bidding farewell to Shoko outside the hospital cafeteria when she received an urgent call for her assistance in surgery.

You watched her quickly approach the operating room while you headed toward the elevator to check on one of your patients. As you approached the nurses' station, you noticed a familiar figure - a man with distinctive pink hair, eyes scanning the area intently as if searching for someone specific.

He was the pink-haired boy who asked for your help. As you approached him, you noticed his anxious expression and asked, "Sir, is everything okay?"

He seemed taken aback momentarily before gathering himself and responding, "Oh, there you are, Miss Doctor! I was looking for you." He scratched his head awkwardly and continued, "I just want to thank you personally for saving my captain. We owe it all to you." He bowed deeply, his gratitude palpable.

You smiled warmly at him and patted his shoulders when he stood straight again. "Thank you for acting so quickly. Your help made it possible for us to save him."

The boy beamed, a light flush rising in his cheeks. "Thank you again, Dr. He's very important to us all," he said earnestly.

You were intrigued by his words and asked him to elaborate. "Really?"

The boy looked surprised by your question and answered, "Yes. Tell me anything you want, and we'll try to do it for you in return."

"Well, do you mind telling me his name?" you asked shyly, your eyes avoiding his gaze as you gripped your coat.

"Huh? Um, yeah, he's our captain, Gojo Satoru," the boy replied, looking at you curiously.

Gojo Satoru.

When he spoke the name, you felt a jolt of recognition run through you. It was a name you had never heard before, but you couldn't quite place it where. It felt familiar as if you had muttered that name countless times before.

"Does, does he have blue eyes?" Your voice was barely above a whisper as you struggled to control your emotions.

The man across from you tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Yes," he finally answered, his tone growing more puzzled by the second. "Why do you ask?"

Feeling your heart thump back in your chest, you replied quickly, "Just, just because. I better be going now. I have some work to do." You turned around to start walking away, your mind racing about what could happen if you stayed.

However, before you could get too far, the young boy's voice cut through the silence. "Doctor! Once he wakes up, please pay us a visit! So he can thank you too in person." You kept walking, answering him in silence.

You had faced challenging surgeries and worked consecutive shifts in the hospital, but the thought of seeing him again in his awakened state sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know if you had the strength to face him.

It was as if you weren't wishing to meet him throughout your life, wondering if he would love you as he did in your dreams.

The day ended, and you left your workplace and walked home to your apartment, which was located nearby. You were looking forward to your rest day, scheduled for tomorrow.

Utahime texted you in the morning to inform you that Gojo Satoru had finally woken up, letting you know there would be no complications.

You spent the day resting, finding it difficult to sleep as your thoughts kept returning to the white-haired man.

You were scared that he might not even spare you a second glance, and you felt a sense of helplessness as you wondered about the possibility of him being discharged from the hospital quickly.

This could mean you would lose the chance to meet him again and be left in the dark about his whereabouts.

Despite your fears, you found yourself walking back to the hospital in the afternoon, unable to resist the urge to catch a glimpse of him, even if he was far away.

You felt a mix of emotions - hope, fear, and uncertainty - as you tried to calm your nerves and prepare yourself for whatever lay ahead.

Let fate play out on its own, Y/N.

You arrived at the hospital, and friendly staff greeted you warmly when they saw you. You explained that you were just there to retrieve something you had forgotten from the doctor's resting quarters.

Your nerves didn't stop you from walking on autopilot, your feet carrying you toward the private room where he was supposedly resting.

You longed to see his face, hear his voice, and just to see him again.

When you approached the room, you noticed the door was slightly ajar, and you could hear laughter and voices coming from within.

You were about to leave when a familiar voice called out your name, and you turned to see a pink-haired boy beaming at you. He was holding a brown bag filled with snacks, and a dark-haired boy stood beside him, nodding at you in acknowledgment.

"Miss doctor!" the boy exclaimed. "Did you come to visit us? He's awake now, too."

"I just happened to be passing by, dear. I'm sorry to disturb you," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm.

You turned your gaze back to the private room and noticed the door was now open wide, and the people inside had heard your conversation. Your eyes widened as you finally saw Gojo Satoru, the man you had been thinking about all day.

He looked at you with his cerulean blue eyes, witnessing your conversation with the pink-haired boy; his white hair was slightly unkempt, and his skin glowing as the sun reflected off it.

His head was slightly tilted as he inspected your face, and he looked ethereal.

You were so lost in his gaze that your background blurred, and it was as if the two of you were in your own little world. It took some time before he finally spoke out, "Yuuji."

You broke the staring contest you had with him and felt a rush of blood to your chest as you avoided his gaze. "Come on, let me introduce you," Yuuji said, holding your elbow and guiding you into the hospital room.

As you walked into the room, you noticed that the people with whom Gojo Satoru was laughing earlier excused themselves before you came in. You cleared your throat awkwardly and noticed that Satoru was still looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

"Captain! This is the doctor I told you about. Be nice, she's your savior!" Yuuji exclaimed while laughing. He put down the brown bag he was holding on the nearby table.

Satoru was surprised and said, "Hello. Nice to meet you, and thank you for everything, Doctor." He gave you a small smile, grateful as his eyes memorized your face.

"It's good to see you up," you mentioned while returning a small smile. You fiddled with your fingers as your heartbeat became louder in your chest, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him.

"Megumi and I have been looking for you, Miss Doctor, since the captain woke up," Yuuji interjected, mentioning the black-haired boy beside him, whom you realized was Megumi.

"It's actually my day off every Sunday. I just needed to stop by to get some things," you countered, explaining your civilian clothes. "And you can call me Dr. Y/N; just Y/N is fine, too. Whichever you prefer."

The pink-haired boy laughed, and a blush crept on his cheeks as he told the efforts Megumi and he made to find you. His stories made you laugh, especially when you learned that Nobara scolded them for accidentally entering the nurses' resting room.

"We aren't hogging you, are we?" Satoru's voice cut you off, and he added, "Since it's your rest day, you should be resting. I apologize if Yuuji disturbed you." His stare observed your reaction.

"Oh no, not at all; I'm about to leave anyway." You bowed, embarrassed.

"Thank you again, Dr. Y/N. Let me know if I can do anything for you." He softly spoke, giving you another sweet smile.

"You can return the favor by not letting me see you in that state again, Satoru." To your surprise, he seemed to be taken aback when you mentioned his name, and you noticed his eyes widen and mouth agape lightly as he watched your face.

Yuuji and Megumi stood frozen at the interaction. It was their first time seeing their captain be speechless as he was the one to give snide remarks. But now, they were surprised to see the stoic man seem enchanted when you mentioned his name.

You were the first to break eye contact, bidding farewell as you quickly stepped out of the room without glancing back.

Walking into the hallway of the hospital, you found your eyes become wet with tears; spilling out of your eyes without your consent. Sobs that you were stopping made your lips quiver.

Your hands balled into fists with sadness and frustration, preventing yourself to have a mental break down out in the public space.

You have faced countless uphill battles during your life, ranging from witnessing some of the most gruesome injuries to undergoing the most complex surgical procedures.

Despite all of the challenges you have encountered, you have never before felt as vulnerable as you do now.

You thought it was the end. You would never see him again. When you mentioned his name, he seemed taken aback, and you thought he might see you as a creep that snoops around patient records. You were not even his attending doctor. You were not his friend, not his girl, not his betrothed, not his wife.

You are not the girl he loved timeless in different timelines, like what your dreams showed you.

You were just a mere doctor who happened to be near when his heart stopped, doing what's expected to treat patients. You are a stranger to him.

Standing inside the empty elevator, the silence seemed to amplify the weight of your emotions. The sobs that have been welling up inside you break free, echoing off the walls of the elevator and filling the air with your anguish.

You felt alone and overwhelmed; the moment's solitude only added to your desolation.

The feeling of being trapped in the small metal box only heightened your anxiety, and you longed for the doors to open and release you from the suffocating confines of the elevator.

It was a painful reminder that sometimes, no matter how much you prayed for something, it's just not meant to be.

You couldn't help feeling a void in your chest as you stepped out, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your clothes, knowing that life is not a fairytale, and dreams will remain just that - dreams.

One week after

In the aftermath of your encounter with Gojo Satoru, you decided to avoid him at all costs and made sure to steer clear of his designated room in the hospital.

Your days quickly became repetitive and monotonous as you focused on your hospital duties and tried to keep your distance from him.

One day, as you were walking outside the cafeteria, you bumped into Yuuji, who greeted you warmly and tried to strike up a conversation. However, you were quick to end it, explaining that you had a lot of tasks to do.

You didn't want to risk getting too close to anyone close to him.

The vivid dreams that had been a constant presence in your life disappeared since your encounter with Gojo Satoru. Although you had once wished for them to stop, they had become a source of comfort and solace for you in your darkest nights, reminding you that someone out there might have loved you in your past lives.

The thought of never having a chance to say goodbye to those dreams was haunting, and you found yourself grieving for them.

It was like letting go of a cherished friend without being able to say goodbye.

Sharing your recent encounter with your best friend, Shoko, she enveloped you in a warm and tight embrace that made you feel safe and secure. Her brown hair tickled your face as she whispered reassuringly that she was always there for you, no matter what. The feeling of her support and care lifted a weight off your shoulders.

Your final shift of the week ended; all you wanted to do was go home, slip into something comfortable, and unwind in the peace and quiet of your own space.

You politely declined Shoko's invitation to hit the town for some drinks, letting her know you needed time alone to gather your thoughts and reflect on the week that had just passed.

"I'm going home now, see you." You bid goodbye to your Nobara, who waved back at you with a happy smile.

"Get some rest, Dr. Y/N!" Nobara hollered after you, making you chuckle as you walked toward the elevator.

As you walked out of the hospital, you were welcomed by a breathtaking sunrise, illuminating the sky with a blend of warm oranges and pinks. The sun gradually creed up on the horizon, casting a soft, golden light on everything it touched. As the wind caressed their leaves, the gentle sway of the trees caught your eye, creating a soothing rustling sound.

The pavement was bathed in a warm, amber light, and it radiated a positive energy that spread throughout your body, leaving you feeling content and serene.

Suddenly, something caught your attention, and you looked up to find yourself across none other than Gojo Satoru himself.

He was leaning casually against a brand new-looking 2022 Cadillac as he donned a luxurious black polo shirt and slacks that accentuated his impressive physique.

His eyes met yours with relief, making it seem like he had been waiting for you.

The scene felt surreal, making you squint your eyes to ensure you weren't imagining things.

You feel your pulse quicken at the sight of him approaching. Every step he took echoed in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd around you. Your hands instinctively clenched as you braced yourself for his arrival, nervous as you waited for him.

He stood before you, looking hesitant and unsure of himself. "Dr. Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please tell me if I'm overstepping or saying too much."

His sudden appearance still perplexed you, and you couldn't grasp what was happening. "Huh?" You answered, hoping to get some clarity.

He took a deep breath and continued, "I'm sorry if this comes out too weird, but I just wanted to offer to drive you home, or maybe we could grab dinner together. As, um, as a thank you." You saw the hope in his eyes as he spoke.

Seeing a military intelligence captain being so nervous in front of you was pretty surprising. Your presence seemed to have impacted them, leaving you wondering about the cause of their nervousness.

"You don't really need to do that," you said, but you immediately regretted your words as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "But I haven't eaten yet, so I find it hard to say no," you continued, giving in to your emotions and favor towards him.

As you spoke, you noticed his eyes widen slightly at your words. His reaction reminded you of one of your dreams, where his teenage self would throw his head back in laughter at your banters. However, you quickly snapped out of your reverie when he called out to you, leading you to his car.

You followed him closely; he opened the passenger door with a gentle hand and helped you settle inside. You fastened your seatbelt while watching him get inside, his hands on the wheel as he started driving.

"What would you like to eat, Dr. Y/N?" he asked, turning his head slightly to face you.

"Anything is fine, and you can just call me Y/N," you replied politely.

"Alright, Y/N," he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Hearing your name from his lips made your heartburn, making you remember the familiar voice of his name in your dreams. You turned your head to face the windows, feeling your eyes moisten.

You had heard his voice in your dreams before, and it was a surreal feeling to listen to it now.

"Have you been waiting for me outside?" you asked, still looking out the window.

"Yes, I remembered last time that you told me every week you have Sunday as your rest day, so I waited," he replied as he continued to drive.

"Waited?" you asked, intrigued now. You finally glanced at him with curiosity in your eyes. "For how long?"

"Yeah. For 4 hours. Since I was not sure what time you'll be out," he chuckled, tapping his fingers nervously at the steering wheel.

"What? You could've asked for me. That's too long; I'm sure you have other things to do," you said, feeling guilty for keeping him waiting.

"I didn't want to disturb you, and don't worry because I have requested a leave today, too," he said reassuringly. He stared back at you with a warm smile, his blue eyes shining like the ocean on a sunny day.

You were fully aware of his striking blue eyes, having seen them for the first time when he woke up in the hospital. But every time you looked into them, you couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration for their pure beauty. You two had been gazing at each other for a while, lost in thought and captivated by each other's presence.

Suddenly, a car horn blared behind you, causing both of you to startle. Satoru cursed under his breath and accelerated, seeing the traffic signal turn green. "Shit, sorry."

Stepping into the restaurant, you were immediately drawn to the opulent decor surrounding you. The place was adorned with intricate details that exuded elegance and luxury.

Satoru gave you a warm smile and guided you to your table with his big, gentle hands resting on the small of your back.

You both sat down to eat, the aroma of the food wafting around you; you engaged in light conversation, exchanging short stories here and there. Satoru spoke fondly of his subordinates, sharing anecdotes that painted a picture of a kind, respectful leader who genuinely cared about the people he worked with.

You listened to him speak, and you admired him for his qualities and how he treated his team with the utmost fondness and care. It was evident he was a good person, just like the one you had seen in your dreams.

"Would you like some wine?" he asked, offering a drink.

"Yes, I'll just take a glass or two," you replied, smiling at him as you accepted the glass and sipped the expensive-tasting wine. You watched him drink his wine, too, his eyes fixed on you, making you blush.

"Y/N," he began, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior last time. I fear I may have come off rude by not speaking much and being surprised when you called me by my name. Yuuji mentioned that he told you my name, so I'm sorry if I was taken aback." His eyes seemed to soften as he spoke.

"Okay," you shyly replied, feeling like a teenager again. He took a sip of his wine, then looked up at you with a serious expression.

"To be honest, I've wanted to talk to you for a while now," he said. "Ever since I was a child, there's been this girl that I've been dreaming about. I can't recall much about her features, but one thing that has always stayed with me is the vivid memory of her eyes. They were the most beautiful and expressive eyes I had ever seen. It broke my heart whenever I saw tears streaming down her face in my dreams. I know it may sound strange, but I was mesmerized the first time I saw you because you have the same eyes as the girl in my dreams."

As you stood there listening to him, your heart skipped a beat, and your breath became shallow. His words were like a punch to the gut, "And after I met you, whenever I think of that girl in my dreams, all I keep seeing is your face instead." You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your palms started sweating.

"Tell me," you shakily said, "Tell me one of your dreams."

Satoru stared at you, joining his hands on the table as he leaned in. "There are many of them; it's like different versions of myself, but there was this one time that I was a soldier, and--"

"And you died in the war," you cut him off, continuing, "And you left a letter to your wife, apologizing for leaving her, not giving her kids, and saying that you'll meet again."

As you locked eyes with him, you noticed a look of bewilderment on his face reflected in your expression. Both of you were left speechless, lost in contemplation, as you realized your dreams had been intertwined.

"I get them too, Satoru. I see those same dreams every day, but I can never remember your name for some reason. Your face becomes a blur every time I wake up, and it's heart-wrenching," you said, your voice shaking as tears streamed down your face. You instinctively wrapped your hands around yourself, seeking comfort from your embrace.

Satoru looked at you; his heart tightened with emotion as he observed the tears streaming down your face.

At that moment, he realized that his heart still belonged to you, and all his doubts and apprehensions vanished into thin air, realizing that you, just like him, were deeply invested in your shared dreams of the past.

"I could tell it was you from the moment I looked at you, but I wasn't sure if you would know me. It's funny, a year ago, if someone had told me that you were real, I wouldn't have believed them," you said with a bitter chuckle. Your head hung low, avoiding eye contact with him. "Despite that, I always held onto the hope that we would find each other again. I knew you would still turn my head like you did all lives ago."

You rested your hands on the smooth surface of the table. Satoru's hands moved towards you without a second thought. They were warm and welcoming, fitting yours perfectly as if they were meant to be there.

His voice was gentle as he said, "Let's get you home, sweet girl."

Satoru gently wiped your tears away with his thumb, his touch warm and reassuring. He then helped you into the car, carefully protecting your head as you got in. He was extremely careful and attentive towards you, ensuring you were comfortable and safe.

Once settled in your seat, Satoru made sure your seatbelt was fastened correctly. His hands moved precisely, checking and adjusting until he was satisfied that everything was secure.

"Can you tell me your address and phone number?" he asked softly, his hands resting gently on your thigh.

Satoru began to drive, clasping your hands in his, taking a different route than usual. Knowing that he had your best interests at heart, you didn't question it. You trusted him implicitly, knowing you were safe with him above all else.

The car gradually slowed down and finally came to a halt. You gazed out the window and saw a vast, open field that immediately caught your eye.

The scene was so picturesque - the colorful flowers on the sides and the lush green grass in the center welcomed you warmly. And as you tilted your head toward the sky, the countless stars shining down upon you took your breath away, filling your heart with a sense of wonder and awe.

As you both sat down, the silence was filled with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the twinkle of the stars above. The cool breeze brushed against your skin as you gazed up at the sky, admiring the constellations.

After a few minutes, you felt a soft touch on your hand and turned to see him looking at you with a gentle smile.

Without a word, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "I've never been in a relationship before," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours, "Because I was waiting for you, Y/N."

You felt your heart swell with emotion, and a soft smile spread across your lips as you leaned towards him. Wrapping your arms around him, you inhaled the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he pulled you closer.

He kissed the top of your head, and you could feel the gentle movement of his lips against your hair. It was a moment of pure bliss and contentment, a feeling that words could not describe.

You spent the moment getting to know each other, from the simplest things like birthdays and favorite foods to the grander things like your hopes, dreams, and beliefs.

It was like two lost souls finally finding their way back to each other, and you felt yourself falling deeper in love with him with each passing moment.

Satoru drove you back to your apartment, chatting and laughing with you. When you arrived at your doorstep, he didn't just drop you off and leave - instead, he walked you towards your door, patting your head affectionately as he said, "I'll text you as soon as I get home. And let's schedule our next date soon, okay?"

You laughed at his eagerness, teasing him, "Date? Have you even asked my permission if it's alright to court me?"

"I'm sure we all know you have been my wife," he teased, flashing his charming smile. "And I'm sure you won't resist my handsome face." His lighthearted comment made you double over in laughter.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye. You closed the door, and your smile slowly faded away. You had expected him to at least kiss you - even a peck on the cheek would have sufficed - but he didn't.

Feeling a bit disappointed, you walked towards your living room, wondering what could have you done wrong. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly heard your doorbell ring.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around and walked back to the door, peering nervously through the peephole. To your surprise, you saw Satoru standing outside, looking just as nervous as you felt.

Opening the door, you were surprised when he grabbed your face without hesitation, lowering his head and pressing his lips against yours. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer still as his tongue darts out to gently sweep across your bottom lip, seeking entry.

With a gentle moan, you open up for him, allowing your tongues to dance in a passionate embrace. He deepens the kiss, using his free hand to tangle his fingers gently into your hair, holding you firmly in place.

He continued to explore every corner of your mouth, savoring the unique flavor that is uniquely yours. You break away from the kiss to catch your breath, only to see his eyes hooded as he stares at you with admiration.

Satoru pulled you into his warm embrace, whispering, "I'll see you soon, my wife."

The endearment immediately made your eyes well up with tears, as it was his favorite in your past life. You held onto him, cherishing the moment.

Eventually, he released you, giving you one last peck on your lips before walking away towards his car. You watched as he approached the driver's seat and waved back at you happily.

"See you soon!" you called out, trying to keep your voice from trembling. Satoru winked at you, making your heart skip a beat.

The memories of your past lives flooded your mind as you watched him drive away, and you were grateful for the chance to start anew. The journey ahead was uncertain, but you were ready to face it together with Gojo Satoru by your side.

Deep down, you knew you were ready to spend this lifetime with him.

Note: Writing this made me cry and emotional, and I hope you liked it. Soldier/Captain Gojo makes my brain melt.

466 notes · View notes

girlsdads · 3 months ago

Text

neurosurgery resident max the night before he’s scheduled to fly solo for the first time (he’s gonna be performing an awake craniotomy i decided), he can’t sleep bc he’s so anxious about doing everything right, normally he would jerk off to fall asleep but he’s like what if i accidentally jerk off too hard and my wrist is sore tomorrow and i fuck up someone’s actual brain

i lost the plot completely after this but lfg

he texts daniel who is also a surgical resident (he’s in trauma surgery so it’s still a precise field but more bloody and hectic and nobody he operates on is ever awake during it at least) and is like this sucks i need rest but i can’t sleep and i can’t jerk off bc i might sprain my wrist and then it will cramp tomorrow and i will stab my forceps into someone’s good brain tissue and daniel is like jeez max how hard do you jerk off lol. max is like *pouts, kicks his feet and pulls pillow over his face in frustration* dont make fun of me daniel this is very serious what do i do. daniel is like okay i’ll be there soon, be hard when i get there.

max is like what. but he’s honestly already at half mast from mentioning to daniel about jerking off and daniel is always taking care of him and max trusts him that he will actually help even if he has no idea what’s in store. there’s a little kernel of hope that maybe daniel means to get him off himself, but as max lays there hard and leaking as he waits for daniel to come over he tries not to get his hopes up even if what the fuck else would daniel say to be hard for.

daniel takes longer than expected to get to max’s apartment and by the time he finally arrives max is sweating and panting and about ready to tear his hair out if he doesn’t get to come or sleep or both. daniel approaches max’s bed (he has a key of course) and is stripping off his pants and underwear as he does (he keeps on his oversized hoodie from med school bc cozy), his cock is big and also getting hard and max hopes so much that daniel will wrap one of his lovely hands around max or maybe he will even grind his cock up against max’s and max can come that way.

max almost blacks out as daniel knee walks on the bed to straddle his hips and says softly tell me to stop if this isn’t ok, reaches back to spread himself open and lowers down to tease his hole over the soaked head of max’s cock. max is struck completely dumb as he feels daniel start to open around him, feels him already soft and wet and hot like he got himself ready beforehand because he was planning to do this for max.

daniel has barely sat all the way down on max’s dick before max can’t help but come right into daniel, bare and sloppy and perfect. when he’s done he makes grabby hands to daniel to get him to shimmy forward so he’s straddling max’s face, max is trying to hold his thighs and his hips and just grab him everywhere but daniel is like shhh baby you need these hands to be rested and gently holds max’s wrists and presses his hands down against the mattress by his sides, says be a good boy and keep them there for me, max nods because anything daniel, anything. daniel sits right down on max’s face and grinds on his tongue and his chin and his perfect nose until he comes all over max’s forehead and hair and a little on the pillows. daniel licks the come off max’s face then goes to the bathroom to clean himself out and comes back with a damp cloth to get the sticky remnants off max’s skin. daniel cuddles up to max after and max is asleep almost instantly, feeling safe and relaxed and happy.

the next day max nails his procedure, the patient does great and is recovering well in the PACU when his attending comes over and compliments the impeccable steadiness of his hands. max hopes the sickly fluorescent lighting overhead washes him out enough to hide his immediate flush.

max goes on to become one of the world’s leading neurosurgeons and daniel still sits on his cock whenever he can before max has a scheduled surgery the end.

#maxiel #uhhhh i guess this is what happens when i have sex on a work night…. nutted then started thinking about brain surgery #max just has neurosurgeon hands i don’t make the rules #if you don’t know what an awake craniotomy is google it and tell me you wouldn’t want your surgeon to be nice and rested 😏#my fic #but to be clear this is not at all a polished piece of writing lol

181 notes · View notes

blakeprentiss · 2 months ago

Text

crash & burn

emily prentiss x surgical resident!fem!reader

what happens when your one night stand ends up on your operating table?

warnings: angst, surgery, blood, smut, mention of drugs/drug use, alcohol & drinking, mentions of (fake) major character death

a/n: repost from my previous blog about 3 years ago but also slightly edited. based off of my grey’s anatomy knowledge so there are definitely inaccuracies also one of my fav things I ever wrote

(gif is mine)

“incoming trauma! y/l/n, you’re on it with me,” your attending yelled. nodding at her as you made your way to the door, you grabbed a gown and threw it on. a rush of excitement coursed through you, with this being your first real trauma you were working. working the ER was always hit or miss, with everything that had swept through the emergency room doors during your previous rotations either ended up cleared from needing surgery or were “all hands on deck” situations, which usually ended up with every resident fighting for at least three surgeries. and you never seemed to be picked for one.

you had been itching to get into an OR for weeks, as being on the ICU rotation stopped that from happening. technically, you were doing simple procedures on patients when they needed to be done, but you weren’t able to actually operate. and that’s what you loved to do most.

silently wishing that this trauma would need surgery, you jogged out of the e.r. and met your attending at the ambulance bay. “what do we have?” you asked, watching as the paramedic opened the ambulance doors.

“agent emily prentiss, fbi, 40 years old; penetrating stab wound to the lower abdomen, weapon still lodged in place, already coded once in the ambulance,” the paramedic rattled off.

“is that a chair leg?” you asked, mouth open. something about this patient was off, you couldn’t figure it out.

“table leg, actually,” the paramedic said, shaking his head.

“that’s good, it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now,” the attending said, scanning the agent’s body. “what are her stats?”

you didn’t hear a word either of them said, eyes focused on the unconscious woman in front of you. she looked so familiar. and you also recognized her name. “emily,” you muttered, eyes widening when everything came back to you.

“can i buy you a drink?” a dark-haired woman asked, sitting down next to you with a smile. “sorry, i know that’s a bit forward,” she said softly. “i’m emily. and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you,” you blushed. “you’re pretty hot yourself. not to be too forward or anything,” you smirked. “i’m y/n.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

her laugh was like a drug, you heard it once and were instantly drawn closer. if you weren’t careful, you’d get addicted. “thank you,” she beamed, brushing her hand over yours. “so, about that drink?”

“i’d love one,” you murmured. “thank you.” emily squeezed your hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two glasses of red wine. “how’d you know red was my favorite?” you asked curiously, taking a sip.

“lucky guess,” emily shrugged, changing the subject. “so, what do you do for work?”

“oh, i’m a surgical resident at the hospital downtown,” you smiled. “what about you?”

“i, uh, i work for the fbi,” she murmured, smiling sheepishly. “nothing too crazy, though.”

“that’s actually pretty cool,” you laughed. “what about the fbi brought you to boston?”

“i’m just here on business,” she spoke softly. “trying to find something for my team.”

“have you been here before?”

“once, a long time ago,” she sighed, looking down for barely a second. “but, that’s in the past. and i’m all about the present.”

you giggled, sipping your wine. the night carried on in a similar fashion, more and more drinks purchased as the conversation traveled. from favorite books to dream vacations to childhood fears, you two talked about nearly everything.

and as the night grew longer, emily ended up in your apartment. shirts ditched in the entryway, emily leaving sloppy kisses along your jawline as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you onto the bed, hands trailing down your sides. a soft moan escaped your lips, eliciting a laugh from hers. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, hands moving up your thighs. one, two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. her tongue swiping your entrance before her lips encased your clit, your vision nearly blacking out. pulling her hair, emily’s moans sent vibrations straight to your core and pleasure through your veins.

it wasn’t long before your hips bucked into her face, her tongue tasting every bit of you as you came.

and then you were on your knees for her, worshipping her body like it was the last time you would ever see it. which, it technically was. but that was the last thing on your mind as your tongue swiped her clit. she groaned softly, squeezing your breasts as if to tell you to keep going. and you did, until her cum was dripping down your face.

emily leaned down, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into her arms. “thank you for this,” she whispered, smiling softly. “i really needed it.”

“of course,” you murmured. “and you can stay the night, since it’s so late.”

“thank you,” she sighed, rolling over. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, emily.”

emily said she would stay. and not even an hour later, she was running out of your house like she had just seen a ghost. she had said something about a work emergency, then proceeded to give you a quick kiss as a thank you for the night.

and as your apartment door closed, you assumed that was it. it was a one night stand, you would never see her again. and you were fine with that.

“something wrong, y/l/n?”

“oh, no, everything’s fine,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“alright then, let’s get her to the OR.”

***

“on my count, we’re going to pull out the wood,” dr. canning said, looking at you. “ready?”

“ready,” you responded, leaning over and grabbing the top of the leg.

“one, two, three.”

you and canning pulled it out as quickly as you could, leading you to hand it to a scrub nurse. “bag this and get it to the police upstairs,” you ordered, shifting your attention to emily.

“scalpel,” canning spoke, taking the blade handed to her and extending the cut that the wood had previously made in order to get better access.

there was so much blood pooling in her abdomen, it honestly scared you a bit. not because the extent of her injuries were so severe - after all, you had seen much worse. it was because you knew the person on the operating table, and even if it had been just one night, you hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. but, it’s not like you knew her, so it didn’t matter. right now, she was your patient. and as far as you were concerned, that’s all she would continue to be.

“where is all this blood coming from?” canning yelled angrily. it seemed that no matter how much suction there was, more blood would keep pouring out. “hang another unit, she’s losing blood too quickly!”

“wait, i think i found the source,” you muttered, lightly pressing a finger to her pancreas, eyes widening as the blood stopped momentarily. “there’s a small cut on her pancreas!” you yelled.

��nice catch, y/l/n,” canning said, handing you sutures. “go ahead and finish up.”

you gasped softly, slightly taken aback by the order. nevertheless, you smiled under your mask and took the sutures. delicately, you were able to carefully fix her remaining injuries.

together, you and canning worked to make sure there was nothing you two were missing. closing her up quickly and carefully, you both headed into the scrub room to clean up.

when canning asked you to go tell her team about the surgery, you agreed rather eagerly. there was no reason for you to do that, it shouldn’t even matter whether you met them or not - there was no way you’d ever see them again.

“we’re under strict rules not to let anyone see her except for agents hotchner and jareau,” your attending explained to you, scrubbing her hands under the water. “understand?”

“yes ma’am,” you replied. “what should i tell them?”

“ask for agent jareau, and tell her that agent prentiss is stable and ready for transport to bethesda when they’re ready.”

nodding quickly, you exited the operating room and made your way to the waiting area. upon arriving, you stood out of view for a moment, taking in the people in the room.

a brightly dressed woman - who’s outfit did not match the tone of the room - leaning against a taller man. a skinny guy sat next to another blonde woman, who looked too uncomfortable - even for a hospital. an older man sat away from everyone else, fiddling with a rosary and murmuring what could only be a prayer under his breath. and then there were two, one taller man and one shorter woman, whispering to each other in the corner of the room.

this was her team, her family.

it felt odd that you were about to tell them how you saved her life, despite them not even knowing you two had hooked up barely 24 hours ago.

“excuse me, i’m looking for agent jareau?” you asked shyly, stepping into the room.

the woman standing stepped away from her teaming, giving them all a small smile. “why don’t we speak in private?” agent jareau suggested, nodding when you agreed.

you both stepped into the hallway, away from her team’s prying eyes. “agent jareau-”

“is she alive?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“yes,” you murmured, the blonde woman sighing with relief. “agent prentiss is stable for now, and she’s ready for transport when your team is.”

“thank you,” agent jareau whispered, tears in her eyes. “thank you for saving her.”

“it’s no problem,” you smiled, watching as the woman walked off.

making your way back to emily’s room, you passed the waiting room, expecting to see smiles and joyous remarks. instead, you found the team in tears. the strangest part was what agent jareau told them.

“she never made it off the table.”

those words followed you all the way back to emily’s room, your mind spinning with what that could mean. it’s not even like it was your business, you two slept together once and nobody even knew. it didn’t matter, so you pushed it to the back of your mind.

you didn’t dare stay in her room for longer than you had to. as soon as you finished checking emily’s post-op vitals and making sure everything was in order, you left, shutting the door behind you.

instead of walking away - like you knew you should - you just stood in front of her room. not watching her, but just staring.

“you know, that agent has quite an interesting life” canning said softly, coming up next to you. “agent hotchner had asked me how long until she was cleared to leave the country.”

“did he say why?” you asked, looking between canning and emily.

“something about a paid vacation, but i don’t believe him,” she laughed. “apparently they’re profilers, but i didn’t need to be trained in behavioral analysis to know he was lying.”

“agent jareau told her team that she died,” you said quietly, staring at emily’s unconscious figure.

“damn,” canning sighed, looking ahead as well. “well, i know i wouldn’t want to be caught up in all of the trauma that’s bound to leave. i feel bad for her.”

“yeah,” you sighed. “me too.”

phones beeping after a few minutes, you and canning looked down, frowning. “there’s another trauma, y/l/n,” she said, looking at you. “let’s go.”

sighing, you took one last look at emily. she was still as beautiful as that night in your apartment, maybe even more.

turning around a moment later, you followed after canning

maybe it was a good thing emily had fled in a hurry after all.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mine*#fic*

245 notes · View notes

itsphoenix0724 · 5 months ago

Text

On Call (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Your intern year in surgery is awful. Of course, sometimes it helps that you can find time with your attending in the On-Call room.

Warnings: Suggestive content, allusions to sex

Word Count: 674

A/N: A small blurb to get me back into writing inspired by my Grey's Anatomy binge.

A surgeon’s intern year is often seen as the most grueling, tiring, terrible experience they go through in their entire career. You’re run ragged by residents, barely eat, and of course, you barely sleep.

Your back slams against the door to the on-call room, you’ve officially been up for 36 hours, and your neuro-attending is currently undoing the ties holding up your scrub pants. Azriel’s lips trail down your neck as you chuck his lab coat to the ground. His hands wander down to your ass and he lifts in one swift movement and you're in the air. His shirt comes off quicker than you can blink, and you’re moved to the bed. The cheap sheets scratch your back, but you sink into the mattress and your eyes flutter shut. You want nothing more than to work off the stress from work, but the bed is so inviting…

“Are you falling asleep?” Azriel lifts his head from where he’s been kissing his way down your stomach, hazel eyes fixing on you with an amused expression. “Am I not entertaining enough for you?” He brings his hands up to rub tickling circles into the skin of your stomach and you laugh despite yourself as your body attempts to shut down.

“I’m sorry but I had rounds with Lady Death, then had to cover the ER, then I had to do my charts and skills lab, and I have been up for thirty-six hours.” You whine, dropping your head back down against the pillows, and you run a hand through the crown of Azriel’s inky black hair. He places a sympathetic kiss on your sternum.

“I have a craniotomy later, would scrubbing in make you feel better?” The way he smiles at you feels like sunshine splitting the clouds and your brain turns to mush in your head.

“You can’t just give me surgeries because you’re my boyfriend, the other interns will want to spike my head on the fence outside.” Azriel rolls his eyes and kisses his way back up your body.

“I don’t give you surgeries because you're my girlfriend. I give you surgeries because you’re talented,” he presses a kiss to your lips “and smart” a kiss to your jaw “and beautiful.” you laugh again your hands finding purchase on Az’s shoulders, “You just also happen to be my girlfriend.” You haul your mouth back to his and Azriel lets out a groan into your mouth. “We can sleep if you’re too tired. My surgery doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“That would be amazing,” Azriel rolls you onto your side, pulling you back into his chest. You let the warmth of his skin against yours soothe your aching muscles. Your eyes start to flutter closed, feeling protected and safe in the arms of your boyfriend. You’re just about to finally fall into darkness when your pager goes off again. Your eyes shoot back open, you could cry. “It’s Dr. Archeron, 911 in PEDS I got to go,” Azriel brushes a mournful hand through your hair as you retie your pants and pull your shirt back on.

“Just 12 more hours, and then you can sleep like the dead,” Azriel mutters, rolling onto his back.

“I’m not sure that’s the best joke to be making in a hospital,” You laugh as you press another kiss into his mouth. Azriel huffs a sleepy laugh and you’re about to climb back into bed when the pager goes off again. “Okay, I really got to go, if she points at me again I think I’ll set on fire.” You pull your hair back into a quick bun and send Az a smile before you dart out the door and break off in a run to the PEDS floor.

A surgeon’s intern year is the worst year of their life, you get no sleep, work grueling hours, and want to curl in a ball and cry most of the time. But the hospital is our home, it’s where we belong, so maybe it's not all so bad.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #acotar au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel au

201 notes · View notes

girlkisser13 · 2 months ago

Text

for the first time

"it's just like seeing her" "for the first time" "again"

pairings: amelia shepherd x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst with a hint of fluff at the end. mentions of amelia having a relapse.

summary: you reunite with amelia after she comes back from rehab.

the corridors of grey sloan memorial hospital held a familiarity that felt like home. the steady rhythm of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and murmured conversations had been the soundtrack to your life for years. it was comforting, yet today, as you walked through the halls, there was an undercurrent of unease you couldn’t quite shake. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been back in seattle for a while, or perhaps it was the uneasiness that always seemed to follow you since things fell apart with amelia.

mark had paged you for a consult. another reconstructive case that needed your expertise. you were good at this— rebuilding, putting things back together. it was what you did best, even if you couldn’t always apply the same skill to your own life.

you turned a corner sharply, your mind preoccupied with the upcoming surgery, and collided with someone. papers flew into the air like a cascade of autumn leaves, and you stumbled back, reaching out to steady the person you’d bumped into.

"i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you," you apologized, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered documents.

"no, it’s okay, i wasn’t looking where i was going either," a familiar voice replied.

you froze, your hand hovering over a paper as the recognition hit you like a tidal wave. you slowly looked up, heart hammering in your chest, and found yourself staring into the eyes of amelia shepherd.

"hi," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of surprise mixed with something else— something you couldn’t quite place.

"hi," you echoed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

the hospital faded away, the bustle of nurses and doctors becoming a distant murmur as you stood there, looking at each other. she looked almost exactly the same as the last time you’d seen her. her hair was shorter, yes, but her eyes still held that familiar spark of determination and defiance. there was a vulnerability in her gaze, though, that hadn’t been there before.

for a moment, you were both back at johns hopkins, two young residents studying late into the night, navigating the grueling demands of your profession while also navigating the complexities of your relationship. she’d been your world back then, the anchor that kept you grounded when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

"amelia…" you began, but before you could find the right words, your pager buzzed, breaking the moment. you glanced down, seeing mark’s name flashing on the small screen. "i—i have to go," you stammered, taking a step back. "mark’s paging me."

"yeah, of course," she replied quickly, masking the disappointment that flashed across her face. "i’ll see you around?"

you nodded, still trying to process the fact that she was standing in front of you. "yeah, sure."

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but look back. amelia was still standing there, watching you go, a wistful expression on her face. a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed them down, focusing on the task at hand. mark needed you, and that’s where your focus had to be.

mark was waiting for you in the attending lounge, leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. he looked up when you entered, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what took you so long?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"i, uh, got held up," you replied vaguely, trying to shake off the encounter with amelia. "what did you want my opinion on?"

mark handed you a patient file, but his eyes stayed on your face, studying you intently. "i was looking at a complicated reconstruction case. thought you might have some ideas. but, you know, since you’ve been avoiding seattle like the plague, i haven’t been able to ask for your expertise in a while."

you knew he was baiting you, and you weren’t in the mood. "i’ve been busy, mark. you know that."

"sure," he said with a shrug, his expression still smug. "by the way, did you know amelia’s here?"

the file slipped from your hands, falling to the floor. you bent to pick it up, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions his words caused. "yeah," you said, your voice more steady than you felt. "i ran into her in the hall."

mark’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "and? how was that?"

you shot him a glare. "she said hi. i said hi back. then you paged me."

"really?" he said, his voice laced with disbelief. "because she looked like she wanted to say more than just hi."

"do you know why she’s here?" you asked, changing the subject.

"nope," he said, shaking his head. "but she did say she was looking for you."

you felt your heart skip a beat. "looking for me? why?"

before mark could answer, a voice cut through the room. "mark." both of you turned to see amelia standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. "can i talk to you for a minute?"

mark straightened up, glancing at you before nodding at amelia. "sure, come on in."

you felt trapped, the walls of the small lounge closing in on you. "i should go prep for my surgery," you mumbled, quickly walking past amelia without meeting her eyes. as you left the room, you heard mark and amelia start talking, their voices fading as you made your way down the corridor. your mind was a storm of thoughts and memories, each one bringing with it a wave of emotion you weren’t prepared to face.

later that afternoon, you were in the lounge again, trying to focus on a patient’s chart when amelia found you. she entered quietly, her presence like a ghost in the room. you didn’t look up, your attention fixed on the papers in front of you.

"can we talk?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.

you took a deep breath before raising your eyes to meet hers. "what are you doing here, amelia?" you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"i wanted to see you," she said simply.

you felt a flicker of frustration. "you flew three hours just because you wanted to see me?"

"yes," she replied, her voice unwavering.

silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. you felt her eyes on you, searching, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. she took a step closer, and you saw her pull something from her bag. it was an envelope— the letter you had sent her when she was in rehab.

"i read your letter," she said, holding it out like it was a fragile piece of glass. "i’m sober now. i’ve been through rehab, therapy… i’ve done the work. but you weren’t there."

her words stung, and you finally looked up, meeting her gaze. the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable. she looked like the same woman you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, and yet there was something different about her now— an openness, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

"you don’t get to use my letter against me, amelia," you said, your voice tinged with anger. "not after everything you said to me."

her eyes filled with tears, and she took another step closer. you instinctively took a step back, the distance between you growing. the hurt in her eyes was palpable, and it mirrored the pain you’d carried for so long.

"i know i hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "i didn’t mean those things. it was the drugs talking. i was scared and angry and broken. i wish i could take it all back."

you felt a lump in your throat, memories of those final days flooding back. the way she had looked at you with nothing but disdain, the harsh words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. you had known she was spiraling, but you hadn’t known how to help. and then she had pushed you away, saying things that still haunted you.

"i know you didn’t mean them," you said quietly. "but that doesn’t make them hurt any less."

"i’m sorry," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "i’d do anything to take it all back, to make it right. i’m here now. and i’m sober. i came back to you. please, come back to me too."

loving amelia had always been complicated, a tangle of emotions you could never quite unravel. but standing here now, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes and hearing the sincerity in her apology, you felt something shift inside you. her presence brought back a flood of memories— late nights studying at johns hopkins, quiet moments stolen between surgeries, laughter shared over dinner.

but there was more than just nostalgia. there was pain. deep, lingering pain from the harsh words she'd said during her relapse. words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. words you weren’t sure you could forget.

"amelia," you began, your voice uncertain. "i don’t know if i can do this again."

she looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "do you still love me?" she asked softly.

the question hit you like a freight train. did you? it felt like loving her was an inherent part of who you were, woven into your very being. but could you survive loving her again? you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. instead, you stood there, silent.

amelia’s face fell, but she didn’t back away. instead, she took a tentative step closer. "because i still love you," she said, her voice trembling. "i’m still so in love with you. i don’t think i’ve ever… stopped being in love with you."

her words were like a balm to the wounds you’d carried for so long, but they also brought a new wave of fear. could you trust her again? could you trust yourself not to fall into the same pattern, the same heartbreak? "what are we supposed to do, amelia?" you asked, voice strained. "ruin each other all over again?"

she shook her head fiercely, determination shining in her eyes. "no. that’s not what i want. i want to love you the way you deserve to be loved. i want to be there for you, support you, make up for all the times i hurt you. and if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay. i’ll wait for you. as long as it takes."

you studied her, really looked at her, and for the first time, you noticed the changes. she seemed different, stronger, more grounded. it was like seeing her for the first time again, and it scared you. what if you had both changed too much? what if the love you’d once shared was gone, replaced by the scars of time and pain?

"i don’t know if we’re the same people we were before," you said quietly, voicing your fear. "we’ve changed, amelia. what if we’re too different now?"

she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against yours, and the touch sent a spark through you, familiar and new all at once. "then that just means we get to fall in love with each other all over again," she said softly. "we get to learn each other’s hearts from the beginning. we get to build something new. something stronger."

her words resonated with you, and you felt the tension in your chest begin to ease. maybe she was right. maybe love didn’t have to be about holding on to the past. maybe it was about letting go, about choosing to believe in the possibility of something better. something real.

you took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. she was offering you a chance, not a promise that things would be perfect, but a promise that she would try. that she would be there. that she would love you.

"okay," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "okay, let’s try."

amelia’s eyes lit up with relief, a smile breaking across her face. she stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t move away. Instead, you let her wrap her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. you closed your eyes, resting your head against her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. a sense of home.

104 notes · View notes