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roturo · 9 months

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CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name. Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh.

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him.

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes.

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was.

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

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sleekswosobession · 2 months

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recovery takes time

part 2 of ‘you are broken on the floor’

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

request: here

A/N: reminder that i’m a writer and not a med student so idk what times are like for this..

also since y’all wanted me to ask more questions.. if you’ve experienced anything paranormal lmk because i’m interested in that stuff and experienced stuff myself so 🤷

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first few weeks of recovery are the worst, you can’t do anything at all. Even walking is a challenge, how would you ever go back to where you were?

Alexia was always by your side though, helping wherever she could considering you weren’t allowed to lift anything. The concussion went away as expected and now was just a long journey of recovery ahead.

“You and I both know you’ll be back out on the soon, give yourself time. Recovery isn’t a quick process, remember what you told me when I did my ACL.” She’d say things similar to that, and for a while you’d believe her until you saw what the media kept saying.

As much as it affected your mental health, it only made you want to come back stronger and be better, to prove the critics wrong. To show the world who you were and that you were staying.

- - - - -

After 10 weeks, you could do regular tasks again. It did tire you out but it gave you strength and the feeling you had control over something. It’s something you so desperately needed, outside of Alexia of course.

You started to head back to the training grounds for meetings with physios and trainers who were doing their best to assess where to start when lifting weights and doing other flexible motions with your arms and chest that isn’t too harsh.

While it still isn’t much, it’s still something. That’s all that matters.

- - - - -

When you were first cleared to lift 5kg, Alexia was there. She always was when you had more progress in getting closer to the pitch. She was your number 1 supporter and it really encouraged you to be better.

When you could fully stretch your arms without pain or feeling uncomfortable, she was there.

When you could go back to lifting regular weights in gym sessions, she’d watch you while feeling immense pride at how far you’d come.

When you were kicked balls to for the first time again, she watched and congratulated every ball you saved.

She’s your knight in shining armour.

- - - - -

The day of your first game, a year of recovery behind you. You were finally starting for your club again. You stand tall behind your girlfriend who sports the armband.

Ever since it was announced you were in training and back in the squad, the media had been relentless. Asking too many questions. Wondering too many things.

You had one job tonight, and that was to show the world who you were. Who you are. Who you will be.

You walk out, fans yelling and cheering as the Barça anthem plays in the background. You missed this so bad.

- - - - -

The game was tough, some shots on you but you managed to keep a clean sheet. Alexia smiling and crowd roaring at you as you did so.

When the final whistle blows, Ale runs to you first pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Mi amor, you did so well.” She wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“Thanks Ale, couldn’t have done it without you.” You reply, hands brushing up and down her back.

No matter what happened in life, you’d always want to do it with Alexia. Only Alexia.

—————————————————————————

i’m gonna close my requests for the time being so i can get through my 7 other works 🙏

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #wlw #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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writingstoraes · 11 months

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hello! for the ig imagine, can i request charles with a medical student reader? maybe she's in her final year before residency and even though charles has no clue about medic he still tries to help her with studying. thank you!

patient 🩺

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!medstudent!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: whew being a pre med student ngl this fueled my delusions a lil (jk) anyway i hope u like this, anon 🤍 thank you so much for requesting! i also tried to stick with ig posts since its been so long since i did one thats mostly ig posts hehe

about: supportive charles and his future doctor of a girlfriend!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, franciscagomes, and 21,991 others

yourusername officially on my last hospital duty before graduation! can't believe i have spent 4 tiring yet meaningful years of medical school, still feels unreal. couldn't have done it without the love and support of the people i hold dear to me 🤍

charles_leclerc So proud of you, amoùr 😘 Je n'ai jamais douté de toi. I never doubted you

yourusername thanks for being my first patient, baby <3

pascale_leclerc Congratulations, dear! We miss you!

carlossainz55 The group finally has a doctor! That means unlimited recklessness 😎

pierregasly Remember how we always wanted to try riding a bike on the roof

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 50,223 others

yourusername a seperate appreciation post for the love of my life — who's witnessed all my lowest lows and highest highs. despite his own busy schedule, he still managed to fetch me from uni/hospital, prepare breakfast for me, and even help me study.

i guess i owe you a ton for all the cancelled dates and postponed plans, charles_leclerc? 💋

ps. the second picture is charles asleep on my shoulder after he helped me study three subjects for a major exam that went on for HOURS. i think i underestimated just how much he loves me :)

carlosluvr GOD i need me a charles right now its bad enough my pre med is killing me

hamiltonmerc Charles out here setting standards ridiculously high there really is just one of him huh 🤨

charles_leclerc Would do anything for you and you know that ❤️ (Honestly got to a point where I memorized some of what you were studying)

carlossainz55 Woah there Mr. Doctor?

charles_leclerc I think I can give you an injection now, mate 😄

carlossainz55 No thanks I still love my life

charles_leclerc

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc and 1,445,211 others

charles_leclerc So incredibly lucky to be with someone as intelligent and hardworking as you. I promise to be with you every step of the way in full support and ready to shower you with love ❤️

Kinda afraid of needles but if you need to practice, I'm always available. Wake me up when you need someone to quiz you or make you coffee. I love you even when you're frustrated when you're practicing your sutures.

tagged: yourusername

charlossf23 You're telling me Y/N has Charles and all I got from medical school was anxiety

yourusername still need you when i study for the boards

charles_leclerc Working on the flashcards already, chèrie 😘

supermaxmax THE FLASHCARDS ARE SO REAL

pierregasly Carlos and I are on the roof tell Y/N to bring her medical supplies

yourusername please get down from there

charles_leclerc added to his instagram story!

-------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: god pre med is hard wish i had someone like charles 😔 i hope you liked this, anon! thank you so much for reading 🤍

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lostfracturess · 4 months

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【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 02

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

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

x wc 6.1 k

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

x author's note this chapter was partly influenced by my upcoming pharmacology exam haha. dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

Your eyes burned.

The words on the pages before you began to blur.

The library was quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of pages and the occasional distant footsteps. The stillness only amplified the dull ache throbbing behind your temples.

It was late, well past the time when most students had left, but you were still there, surrounded by anatomy textbooks and notes.

"First-year."

You were so engrossed in your studies that you didn't notice Gojo until he was standing right in front of you—a startling display of arrogance against the muted library backdrop. You didn't bother looking up.

"I've been looking for you," he announced. "You weren't in the lab today. I'd needed you."

"Back on the research project?" You flipped a page, your tone deliberately flat.

"More or less. I'm preparing my method, in case yours fails."

Now, you looked up. "It won't fail."

"Yeah, yeah, so why weren't you in the lab today?" He eyed the lukewarm cup of coffee beside your stack of books. Without asking, he grabbed the cup and took a sip.

You sighed, exhaustion washing over you. "Geto pulled me off the project until I retake my anatomy test and pass—"

Mid-sentence, Gojo abruptly spat the coffee back into the cup with a grimace. "What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Five shots of espresso and a red bull."

He looked at you.

You looked at him.

Neither spoke.

He finally set the cup back down, shaking his head. "How can you drink that?"

"Unless you give me some ritalin, that's my drink of choice."

"You really are something," he said, his face still contorted into a grimace as he tried to process your—drink of choice.

You shifted your focus back to your textbook, desperate to regain your concentration. But Gojo wasn't done. He sat down on the edge of your desk and closed the textbook, urging you to give him your attention.

"So, you failed your anatomy exam?"

"Yeah," you admitted reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't tell me, you think you don't need to know where all the bones are when you're operating on the brain."

You pressed your lips together, knowing that was exactly what you wanted to say.

"For someone as smart as you, sometimes you're really dumb," he added.

Wow. Thanks.

You shoved his hand off your textbook. "Thanks for the pep talk, Gojo. I'll see you around."

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I really do have to teach you everything, don't I?" With that, he stood up and started walking towards the exit of the library. "Follow me."

You hesitated for a moment, then gathered your things and followed him. He led you straight to his office, the click of the lock behind you feeling startlingly loud in the silence.

You stood in the middle of the room. Gojo moved to lean against his desk, his piercing gaze settling on you. You could almost feel the weight of his scrutiny, as if he were examining every inch of your being with his stupidly handsome blue eyes.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"Your shirt. Take it off," he repeated, his tone dropping an octave.

A lump formed in your throat. Your heart raced as you held his gaze, somehow feeling less like a student and more like prey in that moment.

Yet somehow the intensity of his eyes made you forget all reason. So you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you lifted the shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

Shirt off, you stood exposed, vulnerable under his scrutinizing eyes. His lips twitched into a wry smile.

"Turn around." He pushed off the desk and turned to search for something.

You followed his command. You turned around, only to confront your own reflection in a full-length mirror. Your pulse roared in your ears as you watched him through the glass.

"Anatomy isn't just about memorizing diagrams and terms." He flipped open a case, revealing a glint of surgical steel. His hand hovered, then selected a single instrument.

He approached you with a scalpel balanced delicately on one finger. The metal gleamed ominously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes met his through the mirror. "It's about understanding the body as a whole, in a raw, physical way."

He stood directly behind you, his eyes fixed on your reflection. He placed the dull side of the scalpel against your neck and gently tilted your head to the side, exposing the vulnerable side of your throat.

Your breath hitched as the cold metal touched your skin, your heart racing even faster now.

"What are you doing, Gojo?" you managed to say, your voice trembling.

"Relax, sweetheart." His other hand curled around your waist. You were yanked back, flush against him, the hard bulge in his pants hard to ignore. His eyes locked onto yours through the mirror. "I'm teaching you a lesson."

"Here's the clavicle," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper as he leaned in, his warm breath grazing the strands of your hair. He traced the delicate curve of your collarbone with the scalpel. "It's more than just a bone, it's a vital landmark for surgeons. You must know its precise location for procedures like subclavian vein catheterization."

His lips brushed the back of your neck as he shifted, gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. "The humerus connects here," he continued, guiding the scalpel along your arm. "Understanding the intricacies of joints is crucial, not just in surgery but also in diagnosis and treatment. Nerve injuries often occur near these joints, so you need to know their anatomy."

The scalpel then lightly brushed along your forearm. "And here, the radius and ulna," he continued. "Fractures in this area can have a significant impact on radial nerve function, something neurosurgeons must always be aware of—even bold ones like you," he added with a playful smile.

He then moved the scalpel along the exposed skin in the center of your chest. "The sternum," he continued, his gaze locked on yours through the mirror. The scalpel found the bone instantly, tracing its contours with an ease as if he knew your anatomy by heart. "The brachial plexus runs just below. Damage here can have significant neurological consequences."

His touch ignited a slow burn within you, making your knees weak. You leaned into him, your back arching slightly, your senses overwhelmed by the heat coursing through your body.

Your eyelids drooped. It was obvious that you were no longer paying full attention to his words.

He then moved the scalpel up, pressing the tip lightly against the back of your head. "This is the occipital bone, part of the skull that protects the brain."

His hand then moved to the side of your neck, the scalpel lightly tracing where the spine meets the skull. "And here, the cervical vertebrae. Crucial for movement and support, but also dangerously close to the spinal cord and vertebral arteries. Missteps here during surgery can have serious consequences."

His hand reached out and grasped your hair in the back, forcing your head back to expose more skin to him. You inhaled sharply.

"And no one wants to play with fire during surgery, right?" he whispered, his breath a warm tease at your ear. His closeness was intoxicating, a teasing heat that threatened to melt all your defenses. "But perhaps you find a certain thrill in playing with danger."

"It's exhilarating, isn't it? The high stakes, the adrenaline rush of being on the edge," he mused, his eyes momentarily fixating on the scalpel in his hand. "It's almost addictive."

Then, with a deft twist, he reversed the scalpel, its sharp edge now grazing the front of your throat, tracing a torturous line across your skin. You couldn't help but tense slightly as the cool metal met your flesh.

"This is where the hyoid bone is." His lips brushed lightly against the side of your head, his breath warm in your hair. "Understanding its location and its relation to the carotid artery is vital, especially in surgery involving the throat."

He brushed the hair from your shoulder and leaned in. A soft moan slipped from your parted lips as his hot breath touched the sensitive skin of your neck. You couldn't help but twitch slightly, taken aback by the involuntary sound that slipped from your mouth. The scalpel cut into skin. You flinched.

In an instant, Gojo's tongue was on the spot where he'd cut, licking away the blood that emerged. His other hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin. His tongue traced along your throat and up to your jaw, igniting a tingling rush of sensation that made you crave more.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a velvety caress against your skin. "If my breath alone made you quiver, can you imagine what my tongue will do to you?"

He released his grip on your hair and tucked the scalpel into the back pocket of his trousers. The dangerous glint in his eyes gave way to a sly smile that played on his lips.

"Lecture is over," he said as he tossed you your shirt.

"I hope you pass, first-year."

─── ·✧· ───

You passed.

Was it thanks to Gojo or whatever.

You passed. That was all you needed to know.

The next day was the surgery. You didn't have much time to prepare. But it had to be enough. You drowned yourself in your notes, replaying every aspect of the procedure in your head. You may have even dreamed about it that night. Everything was right. Everything will work out.

It must.

You scrubbed your hands methodically as Geto and you prepared for surgery. As you peered through the small observation window into the operating room, your eyes were drawn to the gallery. It was unusually crowded today—filled with observers and cameras.

"Nervous?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the sterile mask against your face. "It's not every day you have an audience like this."

"Remember, they're here to witness history, but we're here to make it," he said with a reassuring smile. "We've prepared for this. We're ready."

Somehow that didn't make you any less nervous—more like the opposite.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked after a second, his gaze landing on the bandaid on your neck.

You flinched slightly. "Just a scratch."

You followed him into the operating room, the buzz of the observers fading into the background. Your focus narrowed to the task at hand.

You took your place beside the operating table, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through you. Geto gave you a final, reassuring glance before beginning the surgery. Your gaze wandered over to the gallery once more. Your heart stopped.

There he was—Satoru Gojo, smiling at you. Somehow, your breath caught for a moment as your eyes met his. You had to look away, unable to hold his gaze. You took in a deep breath, trying to suppress the sudden heat that rose in your core.

But the heat quickly gave way to a crushing feeling in your chest.

Your worst nightmare had become a harsh reality.

Geto had tried everything—god, he had tried fucking everything. But every attempt to establish a signal between the neural device and the prosthetic remained unsuccessful. Minutes stretched into agonizing hours as you tried different techniques. The tension in the room was palpable. Every ticking second added to the pressure.

The patient's skull had been open for too long, and the risks were increasing by the minute. Panic clawed at your throat, your hands slick with sweat and trembling.

Another attempt, another failure.

Still no signal. No goddamn signal.

Geto made the decision to close the patient. But it was too late. The patient had been open too long. He went into a seizure. The whole operating room was in chaos.

No.

This can't be happening.

This was the save approach. It should have worked. Why didn't it work?

The walls are closing in.

You couldn't breathe.

You needed to breathe.

You spun around, your heart racing, and fled out of the operating room in a blind, chaotic rush. Geto's distant voice no longer reached you. You heard nothing. The harsh light of the corridor stung your eyes, blinding and disorienting, turning the world into a dizzying blur.

Gasping, choking for air that won't fill your lungs, you stagger down the hallway. Your hands claw at your scrub and mask, tearing them off in desperation. The world narrows to a tunnel of muffled sounds and the relentless, piercing ringing in your ears.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the chaos. "Come with me." Gojo stepped directly into your path, his hands tightly wrapped around your wrist. He dragged you into a nearby room, away from prying eyes. Once inside, he locked the door behind him.

The room spun, the walls seemed to pulsate. Gojo's face blurred in and out of your vision as he pulled you close to him. "Breathe," he said as he cupped your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. Tears streamed down your face, sobs wracked your body. You wanted to throw up.

"I—I can't," you choked out between gasps for air.

"You can, sweetheart. Please breathe for me. I'm here."

"I killed him... I killed that patient," you gasp, the confession slicing through you like a blade, each word a fresh wound.

"No, you didn't. It's not your fault," Gojo insisted, but his voice was distant, hollow against the backdrop of your inner chaos.

"I killed him... I'm a murderer," you repeated.

Without warning, Gojo enveloped you in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His warmth flowed through his touch. "No, you're not," he whispered, his hand caressing the back of your head in a soothing rhythm. "You did everything you could. It wasn't your fault."

But his words felt like they came from another world, a world where logic and reason still rule. In your world, there's only the crushing weight of guilt, the relentless echo of a life that has slipped away under your hands.

You clung to him, sobbing into his chest. "We never should have done this, we weren't ready."

"Don't say that. It's not your fault. You've done nothing wrong."

"You don't understand, I should have... I could have..." your voice broke, sobs wracked your body. Guilt was a suffocating blanket. It smothered reason, smothered the reassurances that tried to seep through.

Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours. "Look at me," he urged gently. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your doing."

But the guilt was a relentless tide, washing over you again. "I was responsible... I should have seen this coming," you whispered.

Gojo's hug tightened, as if he was trying to shield you from your own torment. "Stop it, sweetheart, please," he pleaded softly. "I'm here, and I'll always be here. Cry if you need to. Scream if you need to. But I'm here. Every step of the way. We'll get through this together."

As your sobs continued to wrack your body, his hold remained unwavering. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, offering a silent promise that he would stand by your side, even in ugly times.

─── ·✧· ───

The weight of the day still hung heavily in the air.

Gojo's hand rested gently on the small of your back as the two of you made your way down the long, sterile hospital corridors toward the exit. In his other hand, he carried your belongings.

The hallway was filled with hushed tones of hospital staff and the distant hum of medical equipment—a stark contrast to the chaotic events that had unfolded in the operating room earlier. You desperately need a break from the hospital environment for a while.

As you turned a corner, you noticed a faint wisp of smoke wafting from a nearby balcony.

"Wait," you said, halting Gojo with a gentle tug on his arm.

On the balcony stood Geto, leaning against the railing with a lit cigarette in hand. He appeared lost in thought, his gaze distant and fixed on some distant point.

"I'll wait for you," Gojo offered before you could even ask him.

Stepping outside, a gentle breeze brushed against your cheek. Geto turned as he noticed your presence. He looked tired and somber, but you couldn't help but feel that you looked even more fucked up.

"Did you cry?" he asked gently.

You didn't need to confirm it, did you? He could clearly see it.

You moved to stand beside him, the wisps of smoke from his cigarette curling around you as he took a drag and exhaled a cloud of gray. Your eyes flickered to his hands, noting the faint tremor in his fingers, before dropping to the floor where at least fifteen cigarette butts lay scattered.

"How much did you smoke?" you asked.

He turned his gaze to you, sidestepping your question. "You want one?"

"They're no good for you."

A weary chuckle escaped him. "Everyone has their vices, right?"

You watched him quietly as he took another long drag from his cigarette, the glowing ember briefly illuminating his face before he stubbed it out against the railing.

"I wanted it to work so badly," you admitted.

"I know. Me too. But that's our job, isn't it? Sometimes we lose, and sometimes we win," Geto said, leaning back against the railing. "Just do me a favor and don't dwell too much on the surgery. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, things in the OR don't go the way you want."

"How do you cope with that?"

He flicked the last bit of his cigarette over the railing, watching it fall. "Some days it's easier, some days it's harder. But you'll find your way. We all do." He reached for another cigarette, his movements methodical, almost automatic.

Yeah, he clearly found a way to deal with it.

"You good?"

"Better than ever," he replied, offering you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

He wasn't very convincing.

He reached for a new cigarette and placed it between his lips, then brought the lighter to the tip of the cigarette. His thumb flicked the flame to life. His hands trembled slightly as he took a deep inhale. The smoke curled around him like a shroud, masking whatever emotions he was holding back.

"You know, he'll want to try his approach," Geto continued.

"Hm?"

"Satoru, will you help him?"

"I don't know," you answered.

Geto ran a hand through his hair, loosening strands that had escaped his usually neat bun. "He was here today too—watching you." He let out a huff. "He's really bad at hiding it. Doesn't even seem like he's trying."

You watched Geto in silence, unsure of what he was getting at.

"He will want you to help him," he continued as he took another drag from his cigarette.

"You don't want me to help him?"

"I want you to stay away from him," Geto's response was immediate.

"Why so?"

"He'll get you in trouble, I know that."

"Isn't he your best friend?"

"That's how I know," he said, exhaling a stream of smoke directly in your direction, the familiar acrid scent filling your nostrils.

Silence fell between you for a few moments. His gaze was suddenly so cold.

"It's late. You should head home," Geto finally said, his voice devoid of its earlier warmth. He then shifted away from you, leaning against the balcony's railing. His eyes remained fixed on the distant horizon, lost in whatever thoughts occupied his mind.

Without a word, you turned and walked back towards where Satoru was waiting. His hand immediately found its place on your back again as he guided you towards the exit.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Geto's eyes continued to follow your figures until you were out of sight. In a sudden movement, his hand twitched, crushing the remains of the cigarette he held. The crumbling embers fell from his fingers.

─── ·✧· ───

Your eyes burned again.

You sat at a large wooden table with Maki, Yuta and Toge, each of them absorbed in their exam preparations. Books and notes were spread out before them. The library was quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional turning of a page or a soft whisper.

Maki was leafing through a thick medical textbook, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Yuta, sitting next to her, jotted down notes on his laptop, pausing occasionally to reread a section or ask Maki a question. Toge quietly muttered words from his notes.

You, however, found it hard to focus on the study material in front of you. Your mind was elsewhere, still caught up in the surgery. The question of why the surgical approach had failed haunted you, gnawing at your thoughts. You were so engrossed in your search for answers that the words in your textbook seemed to blur together, meaningless.

From time to time, one of your friends would cast a concerned glance your way. "You okay?" Maki mouthed silently across the table.

You nodded, offering a small, unconvincing smile, and returned your gaze back to your textbook. But your eyes weren't reading the words; they were seeing surgical diagrams, replaying the operation, desperately searching for a clue, a misstep, anything that could explain the failure.

Yuta leaned over. "Hey, if you want to talk about it..." he began softly.

Talking about it was the least thing you wanted to do.

You needed answers.

Not talks.

Abruptly, you stood up. "Just need another textbook."

Wandering through the aisles of the library, you found yourself in a quiet corner. The book you needed was on a high shelf, just out of your reach. You stretched on your tiptoes, fingers grazing the spine of the book, but it remained stubbornly beyond your grasp.

Suddenly, you sensed a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand reached over your shoulder, effortlessly retrieving the book.

"Funny, and I thought if someone had a pharmacology exam coming up, they would need a pharmacology book. Yet here you are, gathering the next neuroanatomy book."

You didn't need to turn to know that it was Gojo. His presence was unmistakable.

"Stalking me now, Gojo?"

For a moment, you both remained frozen, his hand still above your head. He was close, closer than you would wish he was.

"Just keeping an eye on you," he replied, reaching for the book on the shelf. As you turned to face him, you found Gojo standing close, the textbook in his hand. "This won't give you the answers you seek," he said, offering the book to you.

"But I sure will try." You took the book from him. Your fingers brushed against his briefly, sending an unexpected shiver through you that you tried to ignore.

"Don't do that."

You clutched the book to your chest. "Do what?"

"Blame yourself for the surgery. You weren't wrong in your approach. I would've done the same based on the data."

"Yet, you didn't. You wanted to take a different approach with this patient."

He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. "It was more intuition than data," he said, scratching the back of his neck."Sometimes, data and statistics only tell us part of the story. The human body isn't a machine. It's unpredictable."

You looked at him. "So, you're saying I should screw data?"

He shrugged lightly, the hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm saying that being a good surgeon isn't just about knowledge. You're young. You'll learn."

Gojo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder, exposing the bandaid still adhering to your neck. His thumb gently stroked along it. He parted his lips, the question in his eyes clear even before he voiced it.

"Help me with my neuroprosthetics approach," he proposed.

You tensed, your mind racing. "I'm not sure."

"Why not?"

"I have exams."

"And here I thought I was your best study partner," he countered with a light, teasing tone.

You quickly added, "And I need to unpack at my new place." It was true, but even as you said it, it sounded like another excuse.

Gojo's response was immediate. "I can lend a hand with that."

"Geto will hate me."

"He's already upset. What difference does it make now?"

"I also have this really important thing..." you started, but Gojo cut you off.

"Come on, you're just finding excuses here," he said with a huff.

There was a brief silence before he continued, softer now. "I need you on this."

"I don't think you do."

His gaze intensified. "Believe me, I do."

You averted your gaze, unable to hold it. "I'm afraid—afraid of making another mistake."

"You're with me. You won't. I'll make sure of that."

He moved even closer. His hand came to rest against the shelf above your head. With his other hand, he gently cradled your chin, lifting it so your eyes met his. "You don't need to fear anything when you're with me."

In that moment, with his hand so gently holding your chin and his eyes locked onto yours, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The library, the books, the worry about exams—all of it faded into the background. There was only Gojo, his closeness, and the sincerity in his eyes that you wanted to believe.

"If anyone sees us like this, you're really fucked," you breathed out.

"Lucky for me, you have a thing for unpopular, heavy neuro textbooks hidden in the very far corner of the library," Gojo quipped, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Seems like a safe bet."

Your lips twitched into a light smile, and you rolled your eyes.

"Come on," he pressed. "Say yes."

You could tell he wasn't going to back down—Gojo had that determined look in his eyes, the one that said he wouldn't take no for an answer.

You let out a weary sigh. "Okay."

Satisfied, Gojo released your chin and leaned back. "Give me your phone," he said.

Raising an eyebrow, you hesitated for a moment before understanding his intention. You handed over your phone, watching as his fingers moved over the screen, adding his number.

"There," he said, handing the phone back to you. "Call me if you need anything."

─── ·✧· ───

It was late at night in your small apartment.

The only sounds were the occasional hum of traffic from the streets below and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes, trying to focus on studying. But no matter how hard you tried, the words just wouldn't sink in. Your mind kept drifting.

With a sigh of frustration, you closed the textbook and got up. You paced around the room for a moment before finally throwing yourself onto the bed. Lying there, you stared at the ceiling.

Maybe it was the stress or maybe it was curiosity, but you reached for your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally worked up the courage to type a message. You hit send before you could change your mind.

[1:24 AM] You: Haven't had the chance to thank you yet.

[1:24 AM] Gojo: That's quite an anonymous start. Who's this?

[1:25 AM] You: You get a lot of late-night texts from unknown numbers?

[1:25 AM] Gojo: Oh, I might have been expecting one in particular. How's the studying going?

[1:26 AM] You: Can't seem to focus tonight.

[1:26 AM] Gojo: Stop it. I can tell you that you are dwelling on things again without having to see it.

[1:27 AM] You: Hard not to.

[1:27 AM] Gojo: Need a distraction?

The message pops up, almost too quickly. Yeah, you needed a distraction, but more from him than anything else. You pause before answering.

[1:30 AM] You: It's late.

[1:31 AM] Gojo: Since when has that stopped you? Must have been imagining all those late nights in the lab.

Another pause as you consider his words.

[1:33 AM] Gojo: Send me your address.

[1:33 AM] You: Planning to come over?

You sent the message before you really thought about it. The payback was immediate.

[1:33 AM] Gojo: Oh, sweetheart, quite bold of you to ask your own professor to come over at this hour, don't you think? What would people say?

[1:34 AM] Gojo: I'll pick you up with my car and we can get coffee, my treat. We can talk or not talk. Whatever you need.

[1:36 AM] You: Just a drive, nothing more?

[1:36 AM] Gojo: Just a drive, nothing more.

[1:37 AM] You: Okay.

You send your address.

─── ·✧· ───

Lost in thought, you scrolled through social media. Then your phone buzzed with a call from Gojo. You answered, still slightly surprised each time you saw his name light up your screen.

"Look down," Gojo's voice came through.

You walked over to the window and peered down. There, on the street below, stood Gojo. He leaned nonchalantly against a sleek black car, its polished surface reflecting the dim streetlights. He was looking up, a confident, almost playful smile on his face as he spotted you at the window. For a moment, you just watched him from above.

God, what are you doing?

He's your professor, for fuck's sake.

You're supposed to work with him. Not whatever you're starting here.

Yet, as he smiled up at you, all good reasons seemed to leave you.

You grabbed your jacket and made your way out of the apartment. As you descended the stairs, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Gojo was here, in the middle of the night—for you. Your heart raced.

You stepped out onto the street, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the heat on your skin. Gojo pushed himself off the car and stood upright as you approached.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Wherever you want."

Gojo's smile widened. He opened the passenger door for you. "Then let's go."

You got into the car. Gojo started the engine and pulled away from the curb, the city lights beginning to blur past. There was no destination, no specific purpose, just winding through the streets under the city's neon embrace.

The dashboard's soft lighting cast a gentle glow on Gojo's features. He wore a crisp, white button-down shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, lean forearms. The shirt was just tight enough to hint at the well-defined physique underneath.

The faintest shadow of stubble along his jawline gave him a rugged edge, contrasting with the sharp, clean lines of his attire.

"You're staring," Gojo remarked as he caught your gaze.

"Geto would kill us if he knew," you replied.

"Worried about him, huh?"

"I just—I owe him a lot, feels like I'm betraying him."

Gojo chuckled. "You say that like we've already fucked."

"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarified.

"Of course not, sweetheart," he said with a sly grin before shifting gears. "Or maybe you want us both? At the same time?"

You blinked, taken aback by his boldness. "Ha?"

"Don't tell me the thought never crossed your mind, first-year," he teased. "But just so you know, I'm not really one to share."

God, this man really has too much confidence for his own good.

"You're quite bold to say something like this to your student," you pointed out.

"And yet here you are, in your professor's car, in the middle of the night. Seems boldness is a trait we share."

Suddenly, Gojo's attention snapped to something outside the car. "There's a McDonald's up ahead," he said, a spark of spontaneity in his voice.

Before you could react, Gojo expertly turned the steering wheel, guiding the car into a sharp turn. The sudden change in direction caught you off guard, making you flinch and clutch your seatbelt.

Gojo quickly placed his hand on your thigh. His touch, firm yet tender, sent a rush of warmth through your veins as his thumb brushed soothingly over your skin. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Didn't mean to startle you."

As Gojo smoothly guided the car into the drive-through lane, his hand remained on your thigh. When it was your turn in the lane, Gojo ordered two coffees and a selection of pastries.

"You really do have a sweet tooth, don't you?" you said as you took the beverages and treats and placed them on your side.

He glanced at you with a playful smirk. "Yeah, makes me wonder why I'm so drawn to you."

You ignored his comment.

He drove off, searching for the perfect spot to park and enjoy the spontaneous snack. Finding a quiet spot, he parked the car and the two of you settled in, the rich aroma of coffee filling the interior.

The warm summer night embraced the city, its gentle caress making the decision to keep the car windows down an easy one. The balmy air flowed in, carrying with it the faint sounds and scents of Tokyo at night.

"So, when do you want to start with the new approach?" you asked between sips of coffee.

"After your exams," Gojo replied. "I want you to be able to focus without any added pressure. This project can wait until you're finished."

"Speaking of which," he continued, "what's the primary use of ACE inhibitors?"

"What?"

"What's the primary use of ACE inhibitors?" he repeated, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"They're used for hypertension and congestive heart failure," you answered after a brief pause.

"Good. How do antipsychotics like haloperidol work?"

"Too easy, Gojo. They're dopamine antagonists, so they block dopamine receptors, particularly in the brain's mesolimbic pathway."

"Now, explain the pharmacokinetics of metformin," he said, taking a bite of his pastry.

"Metformin decreases hepatic glucose production, reduces the absorption of glucose in the intestines, and enhances insulin sensitivity."

"And what about beta-blockers?"

"Beta-blockers work by blocking the effects of epinephrine and norepinephrine on beta-receptors. This results in a decrease in heart rate, cardiac output, and the release of renin from the kidneys, which lowers blood pressure."

"Perfect. Now, what's the mechanism behind the antibiotic resistance of MRSA to methicillin?"

You raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment. "MRSA develops antibiotic resistance due to a mutated penicillin-binding protein that methicillin can't effectively bind to. This mutation is encoded by the mecA gene."

Gojo chuckled. "I think we can dive right into the research project. You're more than prepared for this exam."

You couldn't help but smile.

After finishing the coffee and pastries, Gojo gathered the wrappers and empty cups. "I'll just get rid of these," he said, stepping out of the car.

You glanced at your fingers, noticing they were still slightly sticky from the pastries. In search of something to clean them with, you began rummaging through the car, eventually opening the glove compartment in hopes of finding some tissues.

To your surprise, the compartment was filled with an array of blisters and pill bottles. Specifically, painkillers and a few other medications whose names escaped you. You reached for one of the bottles and read what it said. Hydrocodone.

You held the bottle in your hand, a frown creasing your brow. Of course, Gojo was a doctor. But why would he carry such a stash of strong medication in his car? There must be some reasonable explanation for that, right?

Your stomach churned, uneasiness settling in.

As you were still processing the discovery, you heard Gojo returning. Panic seized you for a moment, and you hastily shut the glove compartment.

Gojo slid back into the driver's seat, his demeanor as easygoing as before. "All set," he announced, starting the engine. "Ready to head back?"

You nodded, forcing a smile.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, the earlier conversation replaced by a thoughtful silence. The streets of Tokyo passed by in a blur of lights and shadows. As Gojo's car finally pulled up outside your apartment building, neither of you immediately moved to get out.

The memory of the medicine in the glove compartment still lingered in your mind. Breaking the silence, you turned to Gojo. "You okay?"

Gojo's eyes flickered with a fleeting hint of surprise. "Yeah, I'm good. Why you ask?"

"You'd tell me if something was off, right?"

There was a brief pause as Gojo seemed to consider your question. Then, reaching out, his hand gently cradled the side of your face. The touch was tender, and you could feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. Without even realizing it, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes locked with his.

Gojo's thumb traced a soft path along your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, as if you were caught in a spell, completely captivated by the man before you.

You couldn't deny the growing attraction and connection between you, even if you weren't entirely sure what it meant. But at the same time, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, something he wasn't telling you.

"Of course," he finally said, though his response was quick, almost automatic.

His gaze then subtly shifted, settling on your lips. You could almost feel the weight of his craving in the intensity of his gaze. His thumb lightly brushed across your bottom lip, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

Finally, he withdrew his hand, though the lingering warmth of his touch continued to dance on your skin. "You should get some rest," he said, his voice carrying a soft, husky undertone.

You took a sharp inhale, just now coming back to your senses.

"Thanks for tonight, Gojo."

"Anytime."

You lingered for a second longer before finally opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night air. It felt stark against your skin where his touch had been. As you walked towards your apartment building, you couldn't help but glance back. Gojo was still there, watching you until you were safely inside.

You forced a last smile before heading inside.

─── ·✧· ───

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x a/n: this chapter was partly influenced by my upcoming pharmacology exam haha. Anyway, thanks for reading and feel free to leave your thoughts! :)

➸ taglist: @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk fanfic

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months

Text

Sorry to Meet You

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Summary: The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years.

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, accident, surgery, not beta’d, turning, grief

Word Count: 5.8k (sorry, I got a little carried away and I’m getting used to writing one shots again)

Masterlist

I rounded the corner within the halls of my father’s hospital, heading towards his oh so familiar office. I had spent a good portion of my childhood playing in the office halls of the hospital so as to not get in the way of an emergency. Every take your child to work day, every early dismissal, random day off from school, and every weekend he had to work and couldn’t find someone to watch me, he brought me here up until I was about 12.

Now I was in college, studying biology as a pre-med student at Johns Hopkins University. But today I was returning to Forks for my summer vacation in between my freshman and sophomore year. He was supposed to pick me up from the airport tomorrow but I had wanted to surprise him at work so I left a day early.

Reaching the door to his office, I entered. Embarrassingly, I had been so eager I hadn’t even checked if he was busy. As the door swung open I was met with the golden hair and eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. Given his youth I assumed he was a student or a resident but one look at his badge told me he was an attending.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” my father’s voice broke me from my trance.

“Hi!” I smiled at my father, ripping myself from the mystery man’s enchanting gaze. “I wanted to surprise you,” I explained, returning his hug. “I was so excited I didn’t even consider that you were busy. Sorry,” I apologized to both men.

“Don’t be,” the blond said in an almost melodic voice. “Trust me I understand the importance of family.”

“Yeah Dr. Cullen’s kids are here all the time,” my father laughed.

‘This guy has kids?’ I thought. ‘Plural? He looks no older than 25.’

Seemingly reading the confusion on my face he explained. “Adopted kids. My sister and I were foster kids so we always agreed we’d adopt as many as possible. So far we’ve adopted five teenagers, hoping to give them a new shot at life.”

“Wow,” was all I said, unsure of how to react. ‘Well this guy was definitely out,’ I noted to myself. ‘Not only is he your father’s colleague, he had five teenagers.’ “Well I should let you get back to it,” I said shyly, already backing out of my father’s office, embarrassed. “I’ll be at the house and we’ll get dinner after?” I suggested to my father.

“Sounds good. See you later sweetie,” he called after me.

Carlisle tried his hardest to focus on Dr. L/N’s words but he couldn’t, he was so focused on his colleague’s daughter. When she entered the office he had sucked in a breath he didn’t need. He had heard that some mate connections hit you like a brick but he hadn’t seen it with anyone except presumably between Rosalie and Emmett when she demanded he save him.

So as soon as he was done with his meeting he hopped into his Mercedes and headed towards Dr. L/N’s house. Once he reached it he found no cars in the driveway or any indication that there had been a car there recently, only wet footprints leading up to the porch and inside the door, presumably from Y/N getting out of a cab.

Continuing past the house he parked about half a mile away before running back to the house, a feat that only took him a couple seconds.

Taking a page from Edward’s book he began creeping along the side of the house, trying to spot Y/N through a window. But when he couldn’t find her he was forced to climb up some trees until he found her in what was presumably her bedroom, unpacking a suitcase full of clothes.

He watched, admiring the girl as she sorted through the clothes, tossing some in the laundry bin and others in piles to be sorted in the closet. He realized that he could watch her all day, admiring the quirks of her expression as she reacted to different situations. He hadn’t understood the other Cullens’ obsessions with each other until now.

He continued to watch for hours. His eyes sometimes drifting to the delicate curves of her body but always scolding himself for thinking of her like that given that she didn’t even really know him. But a small part of his mind whispered that she’d be his one day.

He only left when he heard her father’s car approaching, swearing to come back to learn more about her so he could strike up a conversation about her favorite things the next time they “accidentally” ran into each other.

The next time I visited the hospital wasn’t just to visit my father, it was because I had managed to slip in a puddle, earning myself a gash on the forehead.

I was sat in the waiting room going on two hours with a blood soaked rag pressed to my forehead. I truly didn’t mind waiting seeing as I knew there were far more injured people getting treated. But as I continued to wait I started to get more and more light headed. I began to make my way to the desk in hopes they could give me some answers when I got a head rush, stumbling into a very cold, hard chest.

“Y/N?” I heard the melodic voice again. This time dripping with concern. “What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” I dismissed, reluctantly pulling away from the grasp he had on my arms. “Just slipped in a puddle and my head kind of ate it,” I chuckled.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, more concern ebbing into his voice.

“I don’t know about two hours?” I shrugged, trying to not make a big deal of it. “Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll just get all concerned and angry and wonder why I wasn’t immediately treated.”

Inside, Carlisle was already feeling all those things I just described. “Well you shouldn’t have to sit there for two hours, bleeding out of your head. You should’ve been brought for a CT. C’mon, can’t have Dr. L/N’s daughter bleeding out in the waiting room.”

I smiled shyly as I felt his strong, cold hand be gently placed on my lower back as he guided me towards an exam room.

All throughout the exam Carlisle had to hold his breath. He has excellent control, it’s what many believe to be his special ability and it allows him to do what he loves but Y/N’s blood? The faintest smell alone made venom flood his mouth. And the blood soaked rag along with the fact that he had to bandage up her forehead didn’t help.

“Okay, that should do it,” he smiled, thankfully pulling back from his mate as he finished taping a bandage onto her head. “You’ll have to keep it bandaged for a couple days but your father should be able to help with that. And you most likely won’t scar.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Dr. Cullen. I owe you one.”

He shook his head, breathing a laugh as he looked down at the girl’s chart. “Please, I’m happy to do it. And you can call me Carlisle.”

“Carlisle,” she repeated, nearly melting the vampire right there, “that’s an interesting name, never heard it.”

“Well my parents were a bit old fashioned,” he explained. “So your father tells me you finished your first year at Johns Hopkins? That’s very impressive.”

He admired her blush as she looked down at the ground. “Thanks. I think I was the only one of my graduating class to go out of state.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured out Forks is a very small town. Not many people leave,” he chuckled. “Do you know what you want to study?”

“Um I’ve always kind of wanted to be a surgeon. I know it’s the most difficult specialty but I enjoy the precision of it,” she shrugged.

Carlisle felt a sense of disappointment at the news that his mate wanted to be a surgeon. Being a doctor was hard enough as a vampire but having to literally cut people open? Even he didn’t think he’d be able to focus surrounded by so much blood. He was already dreading having to tell her that she couldn’t be a surgeon after she turned, not at least for decades while she learned control. He was suddenly snapped from his fantasies realizing that this human barely knew him and practically everything he knew about her came from his lurking outside her windows.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts which had no doubt created a long, awkward pause he spoke again. “Yes, well if you made it to Johns Hopkins then I’m sure you can do it.”

“Thanks Doc- Carlisle,” Y/N corrected before standing up off the table and heading for the door.

As she exited, taking most of her intoxicating scent with her, Carlisle sucked in a breath he didn’t need. As much as he hated watching his mate leave he needed a break from her blood. No one had tempted him the way Y/N L/N had, even when he was a starving newborn. And he realized that he would have to figure out a way to get close to her and get her to love him before he even told her about the mate bond. A difficult feat considering her father’s place as his colleague.

When Carlisle got home that evening he immediately went to his room, tipping off the family that something was different.

As he collapsed backwards onto his sofa he let his mind wander to his mate. He could picture her face so clearly, and more frighteningly he could still imagine the smell of her blood with eerie accuracy. He imagined all his future endeavors to keep her safe as a human. He’d watch over her, always be within reach to step in when she needed. He pictured their love story. It’d be slow and start with glances and fleeting touches until he invited her out to dinner once she became more comfortable with him. He’d kiss her goodnight on the porch and then make sure she got into the safety of her home before leaving. Their relationship would develop from there with more dates, with Y/N’s father’s approval of course. And when she uttered the words ‘I love you,’ he’d tell her about him and his species because he knew he had earned her love. And as much as he didn’t want to damn her to a life of hiding and being a monster, he couldn’t help but imagine her turning. He’d gently bite into the soft flesh of her throat, injecting his venom into her veins, cementing her as his forever. But the thought of hurting her and turning her into a monster made him hesitate.

As Carlisle continued to immerse himself in his fantasies, his sister entered. “Carlisle?” Esme called softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sitting up. He wasn’t sure whether or not to tell his family that he had met him mate, considering they were already dealing with the human mate to Edward, Bella, who they had just moved back to Forks for. Of course no secrets stayed secrets for long thanks to Edward and Alice’s gifts. Edward could be counted on for discretion but Alice’s overeager nature wouldn’t allow that. He was surprised that Alice hadn’t already planned a party but maybe she hadn’t seen his mate in her visions yet. He had also wanted to keep her his own little secret for a while but clearly that wouldn’t be happening so he relented. “I- uh met my true mate.”

Esme’s eyes widened as she gasped. Of course living in a house full of vampires everyone heard and immediately began rushing in.

“You met your mate!” Alice practically screamed, nearly knocking over Esme.

“What’s she like?” Emmett asked with a grin. “Or he?” he added hesitantly.

“It’s a she,” Carlisle confirmed. “It’s very new. She doesn’t even really know anything about me and everything I know about her comes from lurking outside her window,” he groaned in embarrassment.

“Well that worked with Bella,” Jasper laughed.

Edward shot his brother a glare before looking back at his adoptive father. “Just find an excuse to be around her, ask her on a date.”

“That’s the thing, she’s 19-”

“You’re physically 23,” Alice cut in.

“Her father is my coworker,” he elaborated. “Besides they think I’m 31 at the hospital. And she just finished her first year pre-med.”

“So you’ll see her around the hospital!” Alice insisted, still trying to convince her adoptive father that everything would be fine. “Suggest that she comes to the hospital more to observe or do an internship! Then you can get to know her and ask her on a date.”

“That’s not actually the worst plan,” Edward admitted.

Carlisle thought for a second. That could actually work, he’d just have to figure out how to bring it up to her and her father naturally.

“So what’s she like?” Rosalie asked suddenly.

If vampires could blush Carlisle would be bright red. “Well um she has H/L, (hair length) H/T, (type) H/C (color) hair. She actually looks a lot like her father, Dr. L/N. She goes to Johns Hopkins. Look can everyone just go back to what they were doing?”

“But we want to meet her,” Alice practically whined.

In his frustration with everything Carlisle blurted out, “You may not even get to meet her.”

That dampened the mood. “What?” Esme asked softly.

“Nothing is decided yet but she’s human. We’re already dealing with Bella, the Volturi are already keeping their eyes on us, and I don’t want to doom her to this life if I don’t have to.”

“But this is your mate,” Alice insisted. “You’ve been alone for 350 years!”

“He has a point,” Rosalie cut in. “We can’t afford to have another human know about us especially with the Volturi sniffing around us. And we shouldn’t be turning people unless they’re actively dying.”

“But she’s his true mate!” Alice maintained, practically stamping her foot on the ground. “He can’t just turn his back on her.”

“Look nothing is decided,” Carlisle tried to calm Alice down. “I have to be back at work in a few hours and I need to hunt so if you’d all please let me be.”

Everyone shuffled out of the room reluctantly except for Edward. “It will break your heart to let that girl go.”

Carlisle paused. He knew that, the idea of letting her go live her life and potentially fall in love with someone else broke his heart. “I know,” he admitted. “But the thought of having to hurt her and make her like this hurts just as much.”

“So love her for the duration of her mortal life.”

“Just to watch her age, live in pain, and die? I couldn’t handle that.”

“But you’re doing it for her,” Edward pointed out.

“But if I’m doing it for her shouldn’t I just let her go live a normal life?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know the right answer here just that no matter what you choose it’ll kill you in some way. That’s the unfortunate truth about loving a human.”

A few weeks went by and Y/N became a routine part of Carlisle’s day. He’d usually see her at the hospital, working as a secretary. (A job she acquired even without Carlisle’s suggestion.) Because of that he had gained a reputation for hanging around the nurses station, flirting with Y/N. Not only did he learn about her through actually talking to her, he would make frequent trips to her house to watch her through the windows, even occasionally going into her room, which he felt wrong about but being surrounded by her scent dismissed any doubt from his mind.

“Y/N,” he greeted like he did every morning, bringing her a coffee.

“You must be spending a fortune on coffee,” she commented, taking the cup. She had protested several times, insisting that she pay him back but he refused every time so she just began to accept it.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed. “But if it was it’d be worth it,” he flirted, earning a blush from the girl. Carlisle had learned a lot about flirting in these few weeks. At first it was a bit clumsy but he picked it up fairly easily with a little coaching from Rosalie and Emmett.

“Yeah well you won’t have to spend like $4.50 everyday for much longer, one of my professors is starting a research project a month before the semester begins and he invited me as a fellow,” she explained, a glimmer of disappointment behind her bright, casual expression.

If Carlisle’s heart wasn’t already frozen it would’ve stopped beating. He tried his best to hide his shock and disappointment. “Oh, well congratulations. Getting invited to stuff like this is really good for med school applications.”

“Yeah, and I like being here but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, y’know? Plus it’ll be nice to see the sun again,” she awkwardly laughed, sensing the doctor’s unease.

“Yeah, um well I have to go get some labs. Congratulations, I’ll see you around,” he rushed out with a forced smile. He didn’t stay long enough to hear her response, rushing out of the room as fast as possible without being suspicious.

He couldn’t think straight. He of course had thought about her just leaving but now that it was actually happening, as well as happening sooner than expected, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Carlisle had no clue what to do when it came to his mate leaving. He couldn’t stop her, that wasn’t fair to Y/N, so instead he kept his distance. Which was easy considering that he could smell her from a mile away. Until one day at the hospital when the scent of her blood was particularly strong.

“19 year old female, car crash. Resuscitated once in the field, three times en route,” the panicked voice of the paramedic echoed through Carlisle’s sensitive ears. He rushed into the ER, spotting her through the window of the trauma room. He mostly recognized her through her scent but would know that H/T, H/C hair and S/T skin through purple and blue bruises from a million miles away. But the next words from her attending doctor only confirmed the worst. “Page Dr. L/N, it’s Y/N!”

It felt like Carlisle had been sucker punched in the gut. It took everything in him not to stagger back and let out a dry sob right there in the ER. When her heart monitor flatlined he wanted to slaughter every person in that room in his grief. It was ridiculous, 350 years of self control would be gone just because of a girl. But not just any girl, his girl.

When they finally got Y/N’s heartbeat back they wheeled her up to surgery, just as Dr. L/N entered the ER. “Where’s Y/N? Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, trying to launch himself at the ER desk.

“D/N, D/N,” Carlisle tried to calm the distraught father. He had to physically hold the man back with vampire strength. Fortunately the ER was too chaotic for anyone to notice. “They took her up to surgery, she’ll be fine.”

“Surgery? Oh god,” the man began to cry. “But that’s my baby, she’s all I have.” With those words Carlisle began to feel guilty. Just a few weeks ago a part of him had been so ready to basically just kidnap this poor man’s daughter and completely shatter his world without a thought. “Oh god, surgery here is a death sentence.”

Carlisle began to protest before really thinking about it. Forks Hospital was small, their surgical staff consisted of two surgeons and whatever nurses that had completed the surgical nurse program. No one came her for surgery, they all went to Port Angeles and their non-emergent traumas went there too. The only people who came here were on the brink of death and unfortunately the two surgeons here weren’t exactly outstanding in their field. They were good enough but nothing remarkable and they usually lost their patients due to the circumstances.

Carlisle tried to carry on his day as if the love of his life wasn’t dying in a surgical suite right now. But the ordinarily smooth, confident doctor was distracted and constantly messing up. Until finally his shift was over and he went up to his mate’s room. He had orchestrated the nurses’ charts so she’d be placed in a secluded room should Carlisle need to intervene to prolong her life.

When he entered the room he was met with the most heartbreaking sight. Y/N was laid on the bed, an intubation tube sticking out of her throat. Her entire face was black and blue, some bones in her face looked like they had been broken. She hardly looked recognizable. On the only chair in the room sat her father looking like a worried mess. “Oh, hey Carlisle,” Dr. L/N said dejectedly.

“I’m so sorry, D/N.”

The man shrugged. “She’s tough. She managed to claw her way out of this place. She’ll survive this.”

“I hope so,” Carlisle agreed, staring longingly at his mate.

He didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion from Y/N’s father so he reluctantly went home to change and hunt.

After his quick hunt he re-entered his home finding Alice. “Carlisle, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. He wasn’t sure what to say to that but fortunately he didn’t have to come up with anything because she spoke again. “But you have to stay with her at the hospital if you want any shot at survival.” By now Edward had joined them.

“What?” Carlisle asked.

“She won’t survive this. You’re a doctor, you have to know that. So you’ll have to change her.”

Carlisle would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of the scenario where Y/N was severely injured and he needed to change her. He looked up at his oldest son. “There’s nothing wrong about saving her life if she’s already dying.”

Not wanting to waste another second Carlisle sped off. He almost ran to the hospital but realized at the last second he should take the car. So he floored it, doing 150mph practically the whole way there. And finally parking in the back so he’d be able to bring her home unseen.

When he got to the hospital his ears were bombarded with thousands of sounds, something he was now used to, but because of his experience he was able to tune into his mate’s heart monitor while he got his plan ready.

Heading to the morgue he found a body that was a similar build and coloring to Y/N. Carlisle was by no means squeamish but it felt weird to break her bones and watch bruises form over her skin until her face was unrecognizable. He then scraped up as many ashes as possible to make it look like someone had cremated her so no one would go looking for her body. Setting the body aside he headed back upstairs finding Dr. L/N slumped over in a chair.

Carlisle hesitantly shook the older man awake. “Hey,” he said softly, willing the man to take his suggestion. “You should go home and rest. Get changed. I’ll watch over her.” The man hesitated, still staring at his fragile daughter. “She'll be fine, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

He reluctantly agreed before heading out, making Carlisle promise to call him even if her heart rate changed by two points.

Carlisle sat for a while, waiting for the hospital to calm down a bit before enacting his plan. First he went to the nurses station while no one was there, turning off the monitors that connected to his mate’s room. He then went back downstairs, using his hearing and sense of smell to bring the body up without being detected. Finally it was time to turn his mate. He stood over her bedside, observing her mortality for the final time. Through the black and blue of her face he admired her beauty, reminiscing the unique, flawed beauty of mortals.

This would be the most difficult transformation of his life. He was more nervous than when he had turned his sister who was his first turn. Y/N’s blood smelled so sweet he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull away. He took a deep breath through his mouth before lowering his head to her throat, biting quickly. It took everything in him to pull away. He had never killed a human but he had tasted blood when he turned them and Y/N’s was like nothing he had ever tasted before. He knew he had to hold on long enough for the venom to inject into her bloodstream which made it even harder to pull away but he did it.

When he pulled back he could see blood seeping from her puncture wounds telling him he didn’t kill her. He quickly began disconnecting her from the machines before the venom could wreak havoc on her system. He then swapped her body for the one from the morgue, connecting the machines once again. Running down to the car he placed her unconscious figure in the backseat before going upstairs to reconnect the nurses station, alerting them that Y/N L/N was dying.

But by the time they reached her room with a crash cart Carlisle was already escaping with his prize in the back seat.

It took three agonizing days for Y/N’s transformation. Carlisle spent every moment he could at her side. He had to go to the hospital in order to not arouse suspicion where he unfortunately had to deal with her grieving father. He had called him on the way home to tell that he had gone to the bathroom and when he got back she was coding. But it didn’t seem to make anything easier for Dr. L/N as the man tried to tackle Carlisle when he walked into work. Fortunately for his secret a nurse stopped him. “You left her!” he screamed. “I lost my baby. I didn’t get to say goodbye because of you!”

At first Carlisle had been elated to finally have his mate (among other conflicting feelings) but now he was confronting the grief he had created. He realized that even if she was going to die anyway, if he hadn’t intervened her father would’ve gotten to say his final goodbye.

Meanwhile at home Y/N was laid on the soft couch in his room. She had spent the first two days sleeping fairly peacefully to the point that Carlisle was afraid he had killed her but her slowing heartbeat was assurance that she was okay. The third day was the hardest, he learned from Jasper that he could feel her pain. He was at work when the pain started and Alice had called him since she would be awake soon and Carlisle had wanted to be the one with her when she woke up.

Carlisle had been sitting by her side for a few hours, admiring her now clear skin, pure from all the bruises and broken bones she had received. In his own cold, stone hand, he now felt the same in her hand, all the warmth having been drained from it now as he played with her fingers adoringly.

Even before I opened my eyes I could hear so clearly. I could hear the rustle of clothing, the sound of skin rubbing skin as I realized a cold hand was playing with my fingers. As I became more aware I realized that my throat felt so dry it felt like it was burning.

Peeling my eyes open I was met with what seemed like the brightest object in the universe. I was half convinced I was staring directly into the sun except I could heat the hum of electric lighting.

“Is it too bright?” a voice— Carlisle’s voice asked.

Turning my head I met his warm, golden expression. When I nodded in agreement he ran towards the switch faster than I had ever seen anything move. Weird, but maybe I was just really groggy, but strangely I didn’t feel groggy, I felt more alive than I ever had.

Carlisle’s face reappeared in my field of vision, I could now more clearly see the flawlessness of his skin and the flecks of gold in his irises. Unbeknownst to me he was was also now observing the smoothness of my skin and the deep red hue of my eyes. Something about him felt safe and warm, like I never wanted to leave his side again. “Carlisle?” was all I could think of to say.

His adoring smile widened when I said his name. “Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Good…” I answered hesitantly. I felt better than I ever had but his question made me think I shouldn’t feel good.

“That’s good. The transformation can be rougher for some people,” he explained, pulling away slightly to allow me room to sit up.

As I pushed myself up I moved so fast the couch slid to the side. My eyes widened, realizing what happened. “What’s going on? What transformation?”

He took my hands in his, now kneeling on the ground in front of me. “This is going to be strange and you won’t believe me but bear with me, okay?” he asked, looking up at me. One look in his eyes and I was melting so I just nodded, allowing him to explain. “I’m… a vampire. And I made you one too.” Laughs began to wrack my body, this had to be a joke. But one look at the grave sincerity on his face told me he wasn’t joking. “It’s true. It’s why when you sat up the couch moved. Why you’re probably really overwhelmed with all the sound, smells, lights, and feelings. Vampires are the most dangerous predators. We have better senses, are faster, and stronger than anything else.” Seeing my lost expression he rushed out the next words. “I know it’s a lot and I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“How much do you remember?”

“The last thing I remember is driv-” I suddenly realized what must’ve happened. “I was in an accident wasn’t I?”

Carlisle nodded his head regretfully. “You weren’t going to make it. That’s why I turned you. I didn’t want to do it. I was going to let you live your life as a human whether that be with me or with someone else but I couldn’t just let you die.”

“So what? You just turn every dying patient in the hospital?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around his words.

He shook his head no. “You’re the first I’ve turned in nearly 70 years. I couldn’t let you die because… well you see-” Carlisle was struggling with the best word choice to keep from scaring his mate off. “We’re mates… I knew the instant I saw you. Humans can’t feel it as strongly and it’s rare to meet your true mate but that’s what we are.” I didn’t know how to react, I didn’t even know exactly what I was feeling. “You don’t have to stay, you certainly don’t have to accept our bond but I thought you should know about it. Before you got hurt I was planning to hopefully be worthy of your love the old-fashioned way but given the circumstances…”

Before I could say anything the door swung open, revealing three more vampires. One had blonde curls, another with a brunette, short pixie, and the third had caramel hair and had a strong resemblance to Carlisle. “Hi, I’m Alice!” the bubbly brunette introduced.

“Um, girls-” Carlisle attempted to dismiss them so as to not overwhelm his mate.

“She’s probably thirsty,” the blonde insisted. Everyone looked over at me expectantly. Remembering the burning in my throat I nodded. Alice approached, opening a cup allowing the most appetizing scent to permeate through the air. I took it eagerly, frowning when I looked into the cup to find a thick, red liquid. Blood.

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” the caramel-haired one empathized.

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” Alice encouraged.

I gingerly brought it to my lips. The more I could smell it the thirstier I got so I downed the drink. The second the blood touched my lips I couldn’t get enough as I began to down the drink. Once it was all gone Carlisle gently brought the cup from my hands. “C’mon, you should meet the others,” he said, gently taking my hand in his. He led me out of his room, the three women following us into what looked like a very modern living room where there were three men waiting for us. “Y/N, these are my adoptive kids,” Carlisle explained as the blonde and Alice went to stand with their… brothers? “That’s Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie,” he pointed out the couples, “Edward, and my sister, Esme.”

The Cullen clan welcomed Y/N with open arms, including Bella when she eventually met the new vampire. It took a day or two of warming up but soon enough Carlisle and Y/N began to behave just like other mates. They were constantly together, and the rest of the Cullen clan were happy to finally see Carlisle so happy with his mate after 350 years.

Masterlist

#carlisle cullen #carlisle #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #carlisle imagine #twilight #twilight x reader

2K notes · View notes

gegewrites · 11 months

Text

Dr.house- working after hours. (Smut)

Currently obsessed with this man, he’s been in my dreams for the past 4 days. Barely edited. I’m not a Med student, I’m a film kid. So my two hours of spotty research are prob not all that right.

5/21/23

Your pov-

It was about twelve am, maybe even one. I was sitting in Dr.Houses office. Seated directly in his chair, my elbows resting on the glass top desk, my chin sitting on top of my hands as I looked down at the file in front of me.

Our current patient, Craig Sanders, forty-five, male. He travels often for work. Earlier today he had a heart attack at home, in the garage. Pronounced dead for 7 minutes. Gotta be some kind of record. He’s loosing vision and feeling in his limbs, loss of memory but none of it stays. It comes and goes.

Because I had clinic duty today I didn’t get to fully focus on the patient, only for the beginning. I got to view the scans quickly but was paged to the clinic, so now I’m catching up.

I didn’t look up when the glass door opened, it knew it was house because who else would just walk into a office that has its blinds closed, let alone at 1 am.

“In my chair, now I really can’t ignore you.” He commented, I gave a light scoff as ket my eyes at the paper, not really reading it, just thinking,”shouldn’t you be home?”

“Shouldn’t you?” I looked up at him. he was standing in front of the desk, leaning on his left leg, his grip of his cane shifting, he gazed down at the file in front of me.

“Touché.” He stood for a few seconds longer before we walked away. I didn’t watch him, but I heard his bottle of whiskey open as he poured it into a glass.

“How much sense does this case make to you?” I asked, leaning back in the chair, we was leaning against the desk behind me glass in hand,”his heart is finally semi stable, so It’s not having sn effect of anything at the moment, but , his brains loosing funct-“

“I think I’d be able to think better if you got out of my chair, hiked that pretty skirt up, and sat down on me.” He clicked his tongue,”Should really get my brain going.”

I was kind of taken by surprise, house and I have fucked more times then you can count on one hand. In The Broom closets, his car, his house, on his piano, but never in his office.

I knew from the moment I walked into the office today this skirt was gonna get him. pencil skirt, stopped just above my knees. A dark grey so you could see any lines, which he didn’t. I caught him looking on more then one occasion.

Earlier/11 am-

Houses Pov-

My grip on the head of my cane shifted as I watched (l/n) write on the board. Her writing on the board was fine, she’s been here for nine years, she knows what she’s doing and she picked up this patient. But, I couldn’t keep my eyes in the board or my attention on foreman, Cameron, or chase. No, my eyes and brain were more focused on her ass. I’d occasionally look the board or around to cover it but I kept getting pulled back.

Pencil skirt, Dark grey, tight…and short.

It’s not like she hasn’t worn pencil skirts before, I’ve seen her with one hiked up around her waist as she gets it from behind. first “date” two years ago actually. Wine Red. Nice color on her.

You see this one, this one was different. usually you can see panty lines under tight clothing like dresses or skirts, she’s usually got a slight thong line, and I’ve been looking for it.

“What do you think?” I was taken out by (l/n) question. I looked at her, hands sturdily placed in her hips, and I looked at the white board.

Memory loss, weakened heart muscles, low blood cell count, numbness in fingers and toes, and loss of eye sight, intermittently.

Those were just the main ones.

“EKG, stress test, keep an eye on his ECGs.” I stood up,” get all the cardiac makers. Dementia, Alzheimer’s, and multiple sclerosis. Let’s start there.” They didn’t move, just looked at me,”move, I have to get to the clinic or Cuddy will have my balls.”

“Alright.” Foreman said as he got up from his chair, Cameron and chase followed. (l/n) stuck around for a bit and looked at the board before she followed.

“Hey.” I called to catch her attention, she stopped and looked at me,”that new?”

“What?”

“The skirt, it’s nice.” I let my eyes fall from her face to her hips, where her black button up was tucked in. She grabbed her white coat from the chair at the end of the table.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she turned around,”I saw you looking the whole time,” she started to walk away,”we all saw.”

“Hard not too, especially when it seems like youre not wearing anything under it.” I followed her into my office, she was already at the open door.

“I am, it’s just thin.”

Now-

Your pov-

“Perfect, just Fuckin perfect.” He groaned, relaxed into the rolling chair, his hands placed on my waist. His finger tips pressed in and out of my clothed skin. My pussy was clenched around his cock, buried inside of me as I was sitting tightly on his lap. My thong moved to the side. The record player was on, playing one of his blues records, mainly instrumental.

He popped two of his Vicodin right before he yanked up my skirt, he was definitely enjoying all of this right now. The door wasn’t locked, but the blinds were closed. A little risky considering Wilson is still around, his wife is gonna be mad when he gets home but he’s got reports to do.

I went to rock my hips to get some pleasure but his grip stopped me.

“Greg.” I sighed out and he hummed, pressing his chest against my back.

“Just sit, go over the information.” His hands ran up my shirt, over my breasts as he started unbuttoning it, exposing my skin and black bra. His lips kissed my neck, his beard tickling my skin as he untucked my shirt from my skirt,”you changed a hair product.”

“My conditioner.” I answered as I switched between tests, comparing and contrasting, trying to make things fit.

He stopped talking after that, running his hands up and down my sides, grazing over fabric and my skin.

I drowned out into the music and the feeling of his cock deep inside me, the littlest shift and he’s rubbing into my gspot. He was relaxed back into the chair, glass of whiskey in his hand as the other held onto my waist.

I looked over to the light board, scans of his heart and brain trying to pick it apart from where I was seated…at least I was. I stopped paying attention when I felt his hand slip from my waist, down to my thigh. His middle finger slipped through my lips and started slowly rubbing my clit in a circular motion.

“Please don’t stop.” I begged out in a breath.

“But what’s the fun in that?” He leaned forward, putting his glass in the desk while making sure he was pressed firmly inside me, making a pitiful whimper leave my mouth,”look at his temporal and parietal lobe in the lateral view,” he turned the chair, I grabbed onto the arms,” along with his cerebellum in the inferior view. Look hard.”

“It’s dying, we know that.” My voice had a slight shiver to it, my legs were also starting to tremble, he still hasn’t stopped rubbing my clit.

“Why?” He started rubbing harder, I was getting wetter, my walls fluttering around him, I stayed nearly silent, besides the small gasps which were starting to turn into moans,”he’s started loosing control of his limbs, impulsive reflex’s cause by the brain, loss of vision intermittently, why?”

“Brain death?” My eyes shot from the lateral view to his inferior view,”His brain stem…he had a heart attack a-alone….” My breathing became deeper,”took the family two minutes to get to him, another five before the para-Ah fuck- medics came.” I answered,”the brain lost oxygen when his heart stopped.”

“Alright, keep going.” He rocked his hips up into me, being extra sure to use his good leg only. Now I was feeling it, my hips started rocking down onto him, his finger was moving fast and hard, I could feel my mind slipping from me.

“There’s no-othing we can do.” I kept the moan that was trying to escape out, wouldve felt wrong saying it with a moan.

“Sure it’s brain death?”

“Yes greg.” My eyes closed on their own, my back arched slightly. He stopped moving, completely,”fuck, come on.” He grabbed into my waist, keeping me still.

“You wanna cum, then give me the right answer, his brain is going to die if you don’t. Key word, going. It hasn’t yet.” He spoke close to my ear,”this is why clinic duty sucks, you get lost in the progress of a patient.”

“What?”

“He had a heart attack, we know that. The heart attack is not closely connected to this, so get that out of your head.” His tone was stern,”he’s slowly declining at the moment, recount his history, what does he do for work?” My eyes shifted around as I thought,”is your brain going dead by how deep my cock is inside of you? Should I take it out? Let you think?”

“No!” I yelped out,” he travels for business but he gets his shots.”

“Not all.” He reached to the desk and then handed me the folder whilst pulling me flush against his chest, his palm pressed to my lower stomach as I flipped through to find his travel history,”were was he a few months ago?”

“Mexico.”

“What vaccine is he missing?”

“I don’t know.”

“He got sick in Mexico, had what seemed like a cold, so he was required to get a flu vaccine by his work. It’s not on the list he didn’t feel like he needed to list it.” I blinked a few times.

“So it’s from the vaccine?” The recorded fades out and started playing a new song. He grabbed his glass of whiskey.

“Ding ding.” He threw back the rest of the glass and put it on the desk,” AMAN, found mostly in children. It causing damage to the nerve fibers, which instead of staying in his limbs, progressed to his brain-“

“Which was set off by the heart attack? Being dead for that amount of time set off his immune system?” He rolled his hips into me.

“What do we have to do?” He took the file from me and put it back on the desk,”we don’t act within the next 2 hours, he’s gonna die”.

“His brain is being paralyzed which is mimicking it dying,.plasmapheresis or IVIG, remove the antibodies from the blood.” His finger went back to my clit, regaining the speed and pressure from before.

“Perfect.” He started moving my hips so I started moving them faster, rocking up and down,”oh fuck.”

It felt like electricity was shooting up my spine, simply having his cock inside me gets me so worked up. Moans left my mouth with no warning or control. Slick coated the inside of my thighs and the sounds coming from where we were connected were obscene, but they turned me on even more.

“Gotta start doin’ this to you more, so fucking wet.” He groaned,”Fuckin squeezing me,”

I couldn’t respond, just nodded quickly while ecstasy started taking over my body, my nerves felt like they were on fire. I just kept riding him , my brain focused on finally reaching my climax.

“Greg, m’ close.” I sighed out and he let out a throaty groan. his breathing became a bit faster and so did my movements.

“I can feel it.” His index finger joined his middle finger as he rubbed my clit harshly and quickly,”I know you’re there so just let go. Cum all over my Fuckin cock like I know you want to.”

“Perfect!” I moaned out as my muscles tightened, my grip on the arms of the chair were tight, knuckles turning white. I threw my head back, my eyes were clamped shut, my movements started slowly so he took hold of my hips and kept my pace for me, even with the lack of pleasure to clit, my orgasm was still running through me.

I felt his cock start twitching, his groans becoming louder and more noticeable.

“Hope you took the pill this morning.” He commented, his nails digging into my skin as he finally came. Spilling deep inside of me, keeping most of his cock inside as he filled me up.

Soon he stopped moving me, kept me sat on his lap as his arms wrapped around my waist, holding his hands together as I grabbed one of his wrists. We were both catching our breath in the dim lit office. My body had a tremble to it, and he placed a kiss against my shoulder.

“I’d love to sit here and savor the feeling of your amazing pussy, but I have to clear a businessman’s blood so his brain can start working again.”

I let out a sigh as I shakily got off of him, his cock slid out of me and immediately I felt his cum drip down the inside of my thighs. I grabbed the edge of the desk as he fixed my thong and pulled my skirt back down. I turned around and leaned against the desk as he stood up fixing his boxers and pants.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he grabbed his cane and started walking away,”we’ll go to my house tonight.”

He left me with that, the door closed behind him and he walked away to the patients room. I sat down in the chair, my thighs pressing together and my head resting on the head of the chair. I don’t think working after hours is gonna be such a bad thing anymore.

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #dr. house #greg house x reader #greg house #dr.house fanfic #greg house smut #dr house smut #gregory house #house md smut #house md

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

Text

The Babysitter

Summary: Jared convinces Jensen to go to a bar and have a little fun, but it’s not until he’s driving the babysitter home that he gets the kind of fun he didn’t even know he wanted.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Hot Babysitter for @j3bingo

Warnings: flirting, age gap (20/41), pwp, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, oral sex (m rec), fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this filth! 😘💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Come on, man!” Jared encouraged. “It’s been a year since your divorce. You gotta get back out there.”

“I’m not ready to date, Jar. I told you that. My focus is on my kids right now,” Jensen huffed, having lost count of how many times Jared had tried to get him to start dating.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about dating,” Jared chuckled. “I’m talking about going out to a bar, having a few drinks, maybe taking a girl home for some fun. We could go out tomorrow? I’ll be your wingman, just like old times.”

“And where am I supposed to find a babysitter with such short notice, huh? Gen’s away, so it’s not like we can ask her,” Jensen retorted.

“I’ll ask Y/N,” Jared shrugged. “Gen and I trust her completely. She’s a med student and has been watching our kids for a couple of years now.”

“I don’t know, man,” Jensen groaned.

“She’s not a complete stranger to your kids either, you know. Y/N’s watched them before, too,” Jared continued, not taking notice of his friend’s reluctance. “Come on, even if it doesn’t end in a good time between the sheets with a hot girl—which I am all for, FYI, because, dude, how long has it been?—we can at least go out, have a few beers, watch a football game. What d’ya say?”

“It has been a long time since that. And even longer since I went to a bar to watch a game,” Jensen agreed. “And the Cowboys are playing. Yeah, alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Jared grinned.

“Yeah. Call Y/N and see if she’s free and doesn’t mind a couple of extra kids for the night.”

While driving to Jared’s, Jensen couldn’t help but feel excited for their night ahead. It had been so long since he’d taken any time to himself. He’d been so focused on his kids and work since the divorce and had fooled himself into thinking he was happy. He deserved to have a little fun. He still had a lot of life to live and a lot of love to give, and although he wasn’t looking to date quite yet, if someone caught his eye tonight, maybe he’d get lucky.

Jensen pulled up in the driveway, got himself and the kids out of the car, and went up to the house. With their families so close, the kids opened the Padalecki’s front door and ran straight into the house.

Chuckling, Jensen walked in after them and closed the door behind him. As he made his way down the hallway, a laugh as sweet as honey reached his ears, and he found himself straightening his posture and puffing his chest slightly.

“Hey, man,” Jared said as he walked into the kitchen, where a woman with Y/H/C hair had her back to him. “This is Y/N,” his friend continued, and when she turned around and smiled at him, Jensen’s heart skipped a beat, and everything else Jared said was lost in this stunning woman’s haze.

Y/N was hot and way out of his league, and not just because he was old enough to be her father. She was gorgeous with her big doe eyes, beautiful smile, curves in all the right places—

“Jay? You with me, man?” Jared’s voice pulls him away from his stupor and back to the two people in the room: Jared, with a concerned frown on his brow and Y/N, smirking softly at him and gently chewing on her bottom lip.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just trying to remember if I locked the door when I left,” Jensen lied.

“Okay,” Jared said, not sounding entirely convinced but seemingly letting it go. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Thanks for this, Y/N. I appreciate you taking on another two kids for the night,” Jensen said, finally getting something out to the girl.

“It’s my pleasure,” Y/N smiled softly, and he swore he saw a little bit of flirtatiousness in her eyes.

“Thanks, man. I think this is just what I needed,” Jensen said as he and Jared got into the car to drive home. “It’s been so long since we just grabbed a beer and some wings.”

“It has,” Jared agreed. “It was nice to have my buddy back, but I gotta ask, no interest in any of the women in there? At least five had their eyes on you, man, and some of them were gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know.” It wasn’t entirely true. If Y/N were older, he’d definitely try and hit that, but he was far too old for her, and there was no chance she’d want to have sex with an old man.

They settled into a quiet ride back to Jared’s house, filled with light conversation on their plans for a day at the lake with the kids tomorrow.

Pulling into Jared’s drive for the second time that day, both men exited the vehicle and headed into the house and through to the living room.

Jensen stopped in the doorway, noticing that Y/N was watching a movie, her hair pulled back in a messy knot on top of her head, teasing him with her bare, unblemished neck that he wanted to cover in his marks.

He needed to get a grip of himself. And he definitely needed to dig out his favourite porn videos and carve out a little time to take care of himself because this was ridiculous. Y/N was hot; there was no doubting that, but his fascination with her had to be because of his lack of sexual release.

“Hey,” Y/N said when she saw them. “The kids are fine. They’re all asleep in the tent we put up in the playroom.”

“Great, thanks, Y/N. They didn’t give you any trouble?” Jared checked.

“None. They were perfect, as always,” Y/N smiled as she put on her jacket, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and tucked the cash Jared had given her for babysitting into her pocket.

“Thanks again. I appreciate you coming out at short notice and giving up your weekend,” Jared smiled at the young woman.

“They’re good kids, so it’s no problem. Plus, I managed to get some studying done without my roommates being too loud,” she giggled.

“I appreciate it all the same,” Jared nodded. “Hey, man,” he added, turning his attention to Jensen. “Why don’t you leave the kids here for the night? They’re sleeping comfortably, and you’ll be over for breakfast anyway, right?”

“You sure?” Jensen checked.

“Yeah,” Jared confirmed. “No point in waking and upsetting them when they’ll be coming back here anyway.”

“Alright, thanks, Jared,” Jensen said as he slapped his friend on the back, his mind already drifting to those porn videos. “Y/N, do you need a ride home? I didn’t see a car out there, and it’s the least I can do.”

“Sure. Thank you, Jensen,” Y/N replied, a shy smirk pulling at lips.

“How was your night?” Y/N asked as they climbed into his car.

“Good. It’s been a while since I just went for a beer with a friend,” Jensen replied.

“So it was just a drink with a friend? No ladies on your radar? Jared made it sound like you were out on the prowl, and he needed to be your wingman!” Y/N grinned at him.

“Uh, there were a few pretty girls, sure, but I’m not looking for that right now.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve done anything to get a handsome guy like you to go home with me,” Y/N grinned wider, giggling when his head snapped towards her with his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.

“Sweetheart, I’m old enough to be your dad!” Jensen spluttered.

“I don’t mind older men. In fact, I prefer them… Daddy,” Y/N looked at him and batted her lashes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jensen gasped. He couldn’t believe she wanted him. “We can’t.” It was a weak attempt, but he needed to at least look like he was trying to turn down his best friend’s hot babysitter.

“But why, Daddy? Don’t you want me? Was I a bad girl?” she pouted and slid her hand into his lap, palming his hard cock through his denims.

“Shit! We’re really doing this?” Jensen groaned when she squeezed his erection, and she nodded her head.

“If you want to,” Y/N said, dropping her act. “If not, you can drive me home, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if you want me, I’m yours.”

Jensen was speechless. An incredibly attractive twenty-year-old woman was in his car, calling him Daddy, making his dick harder than it had ever been, and offering herself to him on a platter. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“I want you, Y/N. Fuck, I’d be crazy not to. You’re fucking perfect,” Jensen said, looking into her eyes and making sure she heard him. He chuckled when her face lit up at his praise, noting that not only did this girl have a daddy kink, which he’d happily indulge her with, but a praise kink, too.

“Then let’s go home, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” Jensen praised, watching Y/N undo his belt and pants and pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Open up, sweetheart, let Daddy in.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and he groaned at the sight. “That’s it, baby girl,” he praised again, pushing himself between her plump lips.

Jensen moaned deep and long as she timidly closed her lips around him and sucked, gently rubbing her tongue over his leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good at that. You love sucking daddy’s cock, huh?” Jensen groaned when she nodded. “Yeah, I know you do, baby girl. Come on, I know you can take more than that.”

Y/N moaned around him, taking more of his cock down her throat, gagging on his length.

“Fuck, yeah, baby girl. Just like that. So good for your daddy, huh? Are you Daddy’s good little girl?” Jensen grunted as he pushed a little deeper.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped as he pulled himself from her throat and grabbed her chin, squeezing gently and running his fingers over her spit-slick lips.

“Do you need Daddy to help you undress, or are you a big girl that can do it herself?”

“I can do it, Daddy,” Y/N said as she quickly stripped out of her clothes.

Jensen groaned as his hands skimmed over her perfect, perky breasts and down her taut stomach. “You’re so perfect, baby girl. Daddy loves this beautiful body,” Jensen rasped. “Get up on the bed, sweetheart, and spread those pretty little legs. Let Daddy get a good look at you.”

Y/N climbed on his bed and crawled towards the headboard. Laying down, she spread her legs wide and smirked at Jensen’s deep groan.

“Good girl,” he praised as he crawled up the bed, caressed his hands over her thighs, pushed them apart and lowered his head to her hot, wet centre. “Fucking delicious,” he groaned, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top.

Pushing through her folds, he moaned when her slick pooled on his tongue, and he quickly lapped it up, licking and sucking and thrusting his wet muscle into her tight, dripping hole.

He moved to her clit, licking and sucking on the tiny bud while his fingers toyed with her entrance, circling it gently before slipping one inside.

“So fucking tight, baby girl,” Jensen grunted against her clit. “Gonna need to loosen you up before you can take Daddy’s big cock in your tight little pussy.” He added another finger and curled them upwards, rubbing against her sweet spot over and over.

“Daddy!” Y/N gasped, grinding her hips down on his fingers desperately.

“What is it, baby?” Jensen asked, looking up between her legs and seeing her desperate little pout. “Is Daddy making you feel good?”

“Yes! More, Daddy, please!” she begged.

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg, baby girl, and you know Daddy can’t resist when you beg.” He pulled his fingers from her and sucked her juices from them with a hum before crawling up her body and caging her beneath him.

“Please!” she mumbled again, and Jensen couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Alright, since my little princess begged so prettily, she can have Daddy’s cock in her sweet, tight, perfect little pussy,” Jensen growled and pushed his hips forward.

Y/N’s brow furrowed in pleasure with every inch he pushed inside her. When his hips met hers, and he couldn’t go any further, he groaned deeply at the feel of her tight cunt, stretching and fluttering to accommodate his intrusion.

“Fuck!” Jensen roared. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking tight and perfect for Daddy, fuck!” He pulled back his hips and slammed forward again, placing his hand on her stomach and pushing down gently, groaning lowly as he felt himself move inside her.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and her hips moved with his. “Fuck, Daddy! You’re so big. Feel so good, so full,” she moaned.

“Yeah? That’s because this little pussy was made just for me, sweetheart.” He’d never felt a pussy so good, and the daddy roleplaying they were doing made everything ten times hotter. “Who owns this sweet little pussy, baby girl?”

“You do, Daddy,” Y/N whined.

“That’s right, Daddy owns it. It’s mine,” he grunted with every jerk of his hips, and when Y/N’s orgasm hit, Jensen stalled his movements, holding himself inside her as her tight walls squeezed and pulsed around his cock.

“Fuck, baby girl! You feel so fucking good. I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You want Daddy’s come, huh?” Jensen chuckled as Y/N nodded desperately.

“Yeah? Where do you want Daddy to come?” he gasped, pulling his hips back and pounding roughly into her still-quivering heat.

“Inside me, Daddy, please! I need it!” Y/N whined. Jensen groaned loudly, pushing himself as far in as he could, and came hard, resting against her cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped when he finally regained his senses and pulled his spent and softening cock from her satiated hole. “That was hot, sweetheart, and something I’d be up for more of with you.”

“It was,” she agreed with a giggle. “Unexpected, but hot, and something I definitely want to do with you again.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #the babysitter #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut

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nanamiya3 · 8 months

Note

Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)

hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)

nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k

please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.

—

“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.

“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”

“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”

“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”

Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.

“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.

Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”

“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something—”

“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.

“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.

Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”

Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.

You, 6:47 PM

hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(

Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM

Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.

You, 6:51 PM

thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)

Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.

Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.

That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.

“Hello?”

“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.

Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.

“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”

“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.

Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”

Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”

Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”

Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.

So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.

And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.

You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.

—

Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.

—

Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM

dude, what the hell are you doing right now???

Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM

What do you mean? I’m working.

Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM

what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?

Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM

you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

Throwing up? What do you mean??

**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**

“Hey assho—”

“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”

“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”

Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”

“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”

“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”

“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.

“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”

Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”

Kento’s at a loss for words.

“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.

“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.

“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”

“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.

5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.

“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”

“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.

“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.

“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”

Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”

“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.

And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.

“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.

“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.

You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”

Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”

You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.

For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.

But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.

And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.

“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.

Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.

You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.

“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.

Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”

You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.

And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”

Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”

You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”

You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”

Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.

—

Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.

—

Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!

So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.

Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.

“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”

The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”

“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”

“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.

However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.

"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"

Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.

But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.

So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.

His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.

You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”

Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.

Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.

After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.

After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.

After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.

After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.

After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.

After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.

After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.

After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.

And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!

You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.

And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.

—

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.

Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.

Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.

Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”

So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.

And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.

That’s when everything changes.

The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.

It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—

“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.

What happened?

He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.

“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”

The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.

You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—

But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.

You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—

Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.

And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.

Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.

Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.

You feel horrible.

You feel horrible for lying.

You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.

You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.

You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.

You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.

You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.

You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.

You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.

When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”

Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.

“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.

Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.

However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”

You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.

“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”

You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.

“Inhale…. Exhale…”

“Inhale…” Exhale.

Inhale… Exhale….

“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.

After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.

Inhale… “Exhale…”

“Inhale… Exhale…”

Inhale… Exhale….

As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.

Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.

You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—

Oh my god. You lied to him.

Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.

Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”

You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.

“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”

Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.

“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”

You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.

But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.

“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.

“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”

His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.

Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.

You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.

“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”

However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.

“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”

You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”

“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”

Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.

“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”

“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”

Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”

And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”

—

bonus:

“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.

He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”

You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”

You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.

“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.

What Is A Panic Attack?

How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack

Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating

Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety

What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack

“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.

Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”

You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

—

if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D

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