Pairing: Doctor!Nanami x Nurse Intern!Reader x Surgeon!Gojo
Synopsis: You’ve been working at the Jujutsu General Hospital for over a year now as a nurse. It is a demanding yet rewarding job that’s even better with the pay and the residents. Especially the two hot doctors that you seem to be paired with almost every shift. Dr. Nanami Kento who is as sexy as he is serious; and Dr. Gojo Satoru who loves kids, funny, and always reserves his flirtations for you.
Though you’d never act on your attraction, lately, the two doctors have seemed to tell you in little ways that they’re feeling you too. So when Valentine’s Day comes and you end up snowed in the hospital with the two hot doctors instead of a date, maybe you’ll be able to tell them how you feel.
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); Younger Woman x Older Men; College Girl!Reader x Older!Nanami x Older!Gojo; Coworkers to Lovers; Mild Power Play; Snowed In Trope; Power Outage; Sexual Tension; Injured!Reader; Hands Kink; Mutual Attraction; Crush Confession; Mutual Pining; Threesome; Dual Blowjob; Dual Pussy-Eating/Sharing Pussy; Analingus; Oral Examinations lol; Mild Latex Glove Kink; Doggystyle; Cowgirl; Fucking From the Bottom; Sex in Doctor's Office/on Medical Table; Reader Cums 3x; Creampie; Cum on Tits; Aftercare
Word Count: 13.2k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!! Enjoy it with your friends, family, spouses, partners & smut writers like ME!! I've been wanting to write a Doctor!Gojo/Nanami fic for the LONGEST & I'm so happy I can finally get this shit out lol. Writing this shit got me SOOOO WET I'M NOT GONNA LIE 😩😩 Love yoooou!! Enjoy!! -love, Jazz
Art Credits: Gojo fanart by Narutoss.ramen! Nanami fanart found on Pinterest! (artist unknown but if someone knows, PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN CREDIT THEM FOR SUCH A HOT MASTERPIECE!) All photos found on Pinterest! Divider made by @justrainandcoffee!
“Come on, Y/N, we’ve been planning this date for a week now. You’re gonna let the snow stop us?”
You scowled at your former date’s whiney tone, immediately turned off as you are at the thick, white snowflakes falling from the sky and sticking to your car in its reserved parking lot. You hated snow and you especially despised snowstorms. Hence why you were cancelling your Valentine’s Day date on such short notice.
The plan was to go home after your shift at the hospital, take a hot shower, shave every inch of your body, beat your face to the Gods, and make yourself look like a dream before meeting this guy out for a V-Day date at a steakhouse.
But Mother Nature had other plans for you, it seemed, and to be quite honest, you were more attracted to a white night of laying on your couch and watching movies in your sweats than you were with going out after such a hard day in the hospital.
“I know we’ve been planning this for a while and I’m sorry, but the news is calling for a snowstorm. They’re saying between six to eight inches of snow.”
You shivered at the thought of all that thick, cold, white snow, messy and annoying. That meant shoveling out your driveway and cleaning off your car. “There’s no way I can travel in it,” you apologetically told your date. “Can’t we just take a rein check for next weekend?”
But your date sniffed, indifferent to the idea of rescheduling, and that turned you off even more. You thought that he sounded so sweet over the phone in the two weeks you’d been talking off of the Hinge app, but now? He was coming off as a pubescent asshole…like most of the men you dated turned out to be.
Your friend Yuki had implored you to explore dating apps since that was where she met Choso, a tattoo artist and her boyfriend of two years. “Just give it a shot, girl!” she said over margaritas one night. “C’mon, what do you got to lose?” You could’ve told her your dignity, money, or life since dating apps were also crawling with scammers, potential serial killers, and creeps.
However, it had been a year since your breakup and you hadn’t been out on a proper date in a hot minute. Plus, if Yuki could find a sweet guy like Choso there, would could be the harm?
Turned out, a lot of harm. You couldn’t count on your fingers how many weirdos you met on the apps you downloaded, ranging from Hinge to Tinder to Bumble, and all of them were crawling with men who tried to meet you in person the very same day you started talking and pushing you to send them nudes.
You once even encountered a “hobo-sexual”, that is, a guy who purposely got on dating apps to trap women into giving him money or a place to stay. He fought tooth and nail to get to your house after meeting at a coffee shop and you blocked him that very same day. You felt hopeless in the dating pool, realizing how infested it was with piss and literal shit.
And when your current match opened his mouth to ask his next question, you knew that you were done with the apps for good. “Well, why don’t I just come over there and stay with you?” he asked. “Then we can have our date at your place. Or vice versa.”
Oh, God. Here it was: the point in which the nice guy flipped the script and revealed his true intentions to you. You scowled in confusion, lips parted in shock. “Wait…you wanna come over to my place when you haven’t even met me yet? And stay the night?”
Was he stupid or just pitifully horny, you wondered? You’d never know because you were already contemplating hanging up on his ass. “Yeah, so we can get to know each other! Would that be so bad?”
You scoffed, aghast by the audacity and thinking process of this asshole. Did he really take you as that type of girl? While you knew of some girls who met strangers off the apps for hookups and had no problem with it, it wasn’t something you wanted. And you were very clear about that in every single one of your bios!
So you swallowed down your simmering anger and calmly replied with, “Listen, I really don’t think we’re on the same page here, but I hope you find a girl who is.”
“Wait, wait, just hear me out—”
Click.
You immediately hung up, cutting off his BS explanation, and sighed, disappointed and dejected. You then straightened out your blue nurse scrubs printed in tiny white flowers before heading back to the front desk after your fifteen-minute break was finished. Yuki, your friend and one of the residential nurses, was waiting for you with an iced coffee as a snack before lunch and a manilla folder that you asked her to hold for you.
Noticing your dejected expression, she gave a knowing, comforting smile. “Boy troubles?”
You sighed, taking a sip of the iced coffee that she fetched from the café in the hospital lobby that you frequented. The caffeine mixed with the vanilla-flavored cream and sugar instantly helped you feel better. “Eh, what else is new? Had to cancel my date tonight ‘cause of the storm and he asked to come over anyway.”
Yuki cringed, pulling her long, blonde hair into a ponytail using a purple scrunchie to match her scrubs. Residential nurses wore purple scrubs while lower-level nurses and interns, like you, wore blue. Yuki became your trainer when you first started interning at Jujutsu General, your local hospital, and teaching you the ropes about being a nurse.
You were currently in your last year of college and as part of the nursing program, you had to intern at a hospital or medical facility to get an idea of working in the medical field. You’d been there for six months so far and though it was demanding, it was also fulfilling.
Sure, it was hard juggling exams and papers with long hours at the hospital, but you knew that it would all pay off in the end. You were working toward a full-time job there, so you always gave it your work your all, even if it was just copying documents and fetching coffee for the doctors.
Yuki was only a year older than you and became your first friend when you started working in her hospital wing. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet with that one, girl. Besides, you should be focusing on men instead of boys.” She gave you a wink as she sat down in her chair behind the front desk and began typing away with those pink nails on her laptop.
You scoffed, leaning against the front desk with your back turned to the hallway. “Oh, yeah? Like who?” She just smirked at you and looked at someone behind you, smiling brightly. “Back from lunch, Dr. Nanami?”
Your eyes widened and you turned, finding the sexy, tall blonde standing there in his white lap coat, khakis, and powdery blue button-down. The only thing that wasn’t as sterile or business-looking was the cheetah-printed tie he always wore around his neck. His hazel eyes ticked at you curiously behind his spectacles, making you feel like you were hit by a hot laser.
Dr. Kento Nanami always had this affect on you as well as the other nurses in the wing, male and female. He seemed to radiate a magnetic pull on all of the residency, exuding a quiet yet strong energy and personality in the way he walked and talked in his silky, deep voice. Despite his matter-o-fact attitude and mysteriousness, the patients loved him and residents respected him. He knew his shit having studied medicine for five years and graduated from medical school in his twenties.
Since then, he had been working at Jujutsu General as one of the doctors you worked closely with, fetching him whatever he needed and learning about how he handled patients. If a patient or their loved ones needed to learn something tragic or serious, Nanami was the one people often went to. He had a way of delivering hard news with facts but also with compassion and understanding.
He was the man of your dreams. You often found yourself fantasizing about him, his handsome features, and oh-so-big body mounting you in his lap coat. You thought of his lips, so pink and supple, whispering your name. You thought of the same look of sexy concentration that he got when he read charts, stats, and patient documents the same look he got when he was busy pumping himself in your p—
“Oh!” you exclaimed, your heart jumping wildly in her chest. “D-Dr. Nanami, hi! I’ve got your stats all ready for you to review.” Quickly, you held the folder out to him, trying not to shake. He took the file with ease, his big, calloused, veiny hand brushing yours. “Thank you, Ms. L/N. I appreciate that. I’ll be going over them tonight while I’m here.”
That was another thing that you found endearing: he always called you by your last name, never your first. Even most of the doctors here preferred their first name for formality, but not Nanami. He was very respectful and business-minded. You thought that was hot. “Oh, you’re staying overnight? During the storm?” you curiously asked, blinking at him.
Nanami passively shrugged his big, broad shoulders under his lap coat, placing the folder under his arm as he held a piping hot takeout cup of coffee. “Makes no difference to me. I pull overnight shifts anyway, so this isn’t anything new. You should definitely head out while you still can though.”
You frowned at the idea of Nanami staying at the hospital all alone, especially on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t new that he worked the night shift to handle rowdier patients and more serious situations, but he had to be exhausted. “So no Valentine’s date for you this year, Dr. Nanami?” Yuki curiously asked, verbalizing what you were thinking.
Nanami took one look at Yuki, his lips tightly pressed together, and primly sipped his coffee. “I’ve got patients to take care of. Thanks for the file, Ms. L/N. Have a good Valentine’s Day.”
You thought you saw a slight blush coloring his cheeks before he turned and walked off, ready to work in his wing. You were left tingling while Yuki poked you, smiling. “Ooooh, he wants you bad!”
You rolled your eyes at her, waving her off. “No, he doesn’t! That’s my boss and you know I don’t date anyone at work anymore. Makes things too messy.” You tried a month into working here, but after a surgeon, two security guards, and a paramedic who had a fixation on feet, you decided not to date at work anymore.
“Besides, I went home with one of ‘em once and he was horrible in bed,” you whispered. “You’d think a surgeon would be good with his hands.” You and Yuki began to giggle together until the clicking of footsteps stopped you short.
“What’s this about hands?” a silky, familiar voice asked. It made your stomach flip and your knees weak even before you turned to see the other handsome doctor that had you swooning at work.
Dr. Gojo Satoru—tall as fuck, funny, sweet, flirty, and undeniably sexy. Everyone in the hospital was all over him to the point where practically had women falling out of his soft, white hair. You never heard of him sleeping around with anybody at work, but you’d heard rumors about him being single.
You couldn’t understand why with his ocean-blue eyes that put you in a trance, dimpled, dazzling smile, and muscles that you saw ripple under his blue scrubs sometimes. Today, he was wearing a white lab coat that hid his rippling pecs and biceps, only showing off the column of his thick neck and big, veiny hands.
Dr. Gojo was another doctor you worked underneath, often helping him with patients and assisting with documents for him. He took those times together to always joke and flirt with you, which would be inappropriate for some, but to you, you secretly liked it. He didn’t flirt with anyone but you, according to Yuki, but he also never made a move. Probably because you were his fucking employee.
“Dr. Gojo,” you greeted, immediately standing straight and tall. “Good afternoon. Are you just arriving?”
Gojo raised an eyebrow at you, somehow making him look even hotter. “Y/N, I told you before: don’t call me that. It’s just Satoru to you.” Another doctor, female with a brown bob and carrying a big takeout box, shoved past him to the desk. “You know she’s not gonna do that,” Shoko chuckled. “Anybody want some donuts? Gojo bought ‘em.”
She placed the box on the counter and opened it to reveal a variety of delicious, sugary donuts, from chocolate with sprinkles to vanilla to strawberry, all of them heart shaped. Instantly, all the nurses at the front desk were surrounding you and Yuki for a taste.
You chose yours immediately, picking a vanilla iced one with pink sprinkles. “Oh, thank God!” you sighed. “I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving. Thank you, Dr—er, Satoru.” Gojo seemed happy hearing his name come from your lips and winked one of those attractive blue eyes at you. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said with a smile.
You couldn’t say it back, your stomach too full of butterflies to do so. So you shoved the donut in your mouth instead. “Isn’t it ironic having a doctor order donuts?” Shoko chuckled. “What about physical health?”
Gojo clucked his tongue at her. You'd heard rumors that it was pierced, but you never saw it yourself (probably because he took it out before his shifts). “What about mental and emotional health?” He bumped Shoko aside and picked up a chocolate donut littered with pink sprinkles. “I don’t know about y’all three, but chocolate with sprinkles is ALWAYS needed for that.”
He bit into the donut, leaving chocolate at the corner of his lip. You resisted the urge to keep staring at his perfect, pink lips. “So you got any plans for tonight?” he asked. Any dates lined up?”
“Just a movie night with my man,” Yuki giggled. Shoko shrugged, sipping her coffee. “I’ve got a date with my cat and my wife.”
Then it was your turn. Gojo turned to you, smirking. “What about you, Y/N? Any V-Day plans besides dealin’ with your friendly patients, like Mr. Hiyaki?”
You rolled your eyes as he mentioned the old patient you’d been assigned since your hire who often flirted with you and swore that he would take you out once he got out of the hospital. “Don’t even mention that one,” you chuckled while Gojo snickered. “No, not with this snowstorm comin’ for us tonight. It’ll be just a date with my couch and my cat.”
You pushed away the blooming disappointment at that. You were hoping so much for a proper V-Day date tonight, but of course, yet another promising thing had to be broken.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Gojo replied, actually looking like he meant it. “I’ve heard there’s a few secret admirers in this wing.” His smile at you was knowing and secretive, piquing your interest. Did he know something you didn’t?
“Like who, Dr. Gojo?” Yuki asked, cocking her head at the doctor. “Mind fillin’ me in one who’s tryin’ to take my bestie AND my favorite intern away?”
But like Nanami, Gojo was vague and secretive, sipping his coffee in answer. “Ladies. Enjoy the donuts. Oh, Y/N, don’t forget about that meeting after lunch.” You nodded, flashing him your notebook under your arm. “I won’t. It’s on my calendar.”
Gojo smiled approvingly. “Good gi—, uh, I mean, perfect! See ya there!” Then he quickly rushed off on his long legs down the hall, but not before he stole another look back at the front desk. It felt like he was looking at you, but you pushed the thought aside. That was stupid. Equally as dumb as your crush on your bosses.
Shoko’s pager went off and she bid you and Yuki farewell before leaving, leaving you and her alone again. “Oooh, you’ve just got your own little reverse harem, don’t you?” she snickered.
“Shut up,” you growled, your voice low. “You stay trying to get me to fuck my bosses.”
Yuki gaped at you, offended that you wouldn’t. “And why not?! They’re both single from what I know and extremely hot! If I didn’t have Choso, I’d be all over them.”
You continued to chew on your donut, needing to give your hands and mouth something to do to take your mind off of the hot doctors. “You’re insane.”
“And I’m right,” Yuki argued. “Would you rather one of these other thirsty bitches hop on one of ‘em instead?” You didn’t answer, too busy gathering your coffee and your employee pager to start the afternoon. “Have a good shift, girl. Don’t eat all the donuts.”
“No promises!” she sings after you as you walk down the hall to your wing, preparing to check up on the patients.
But as you did, you felt your heart pound as you thought of the two doctors, wondering if was Yuki said was true. Did they really like you like that? Or was it just wishful thinking? And if they did, what would the hospital think about you, the nurse intern, fucking your bosses?
‘Probably for a raise, a job, or good feedback,’ you thought, immediately slapped with reality. That was why you could’t let anything more happen…no matter how much you wanted the two of them all to yourself.
That night, as the snow continued to fall in big, fat flurries from the sky and stick to the ground, you were left alone in the hospital.
“Have a good night!” you’d brightly call to a departing nurse, doctor, or other resident leaving for the night, right before the worst of the snow began. It was currently 7:55 PM and you were sitting at the front desk, running on caffeine, a good, hearty lunch, and audio smut books in your AirPods as you typed away on your laptop given to you by the hospital.
Your shift ended at 8 PM as it usually did, other than on Saturdays where you worked early mornings until noon so you could catch up on homework and class readings up until Sunday. You were a very busy girl, but you knew that it would come with its rewards soon. So you comfortably sat in your wheeled chair in your scrubs, focusing hard on Nanami and Gojo’s work calendars for the next two weeks while you clamped your thighs shut tight against the silky voice filling your eardrums.
Unfortunately, this particular book describes a forbidden office romance between an assistant and her hot DILF boss. You were just at the part where he was bending her over his desk and lifting up her pencil skirt during after-hours at the office, making you rather hot under your scrubs and shift in your seat, when—
“Oh, Nurse L/N!”
You startled, instantly hitting pause on your phone and yanking your AirPod out to see Gojo standing there with a smile. You had worked with him almost all day, starting by sitting in on a meeting with him before moving onto prepping the room for a surgery that afternoon. “You’re still here?” he asked, leaning an elbow against the edge of the front desk. “I woulda thought you’d be headed home now before the snow.”
You managed to smile, trying not to act like you were just listening to porn. “No, it doesn’t get too heavy until after 9 PM. Figured I’d get some work done for you and Dr. Nanami before then.”
Gojo smirked, about to say some snide remark like he always did about his longtime partner. “Nanami? That mean ol’ geezer workin’ you to the bone?” Unbeknownst to him, the “ol’ geezer” walked up behind him and slammed his folder down onto the front desk, startling Gojo.
“Don’t even start,” Nanami growled, still dressed in his lap coat. “I’ve had a long day.” He then turned to you, his eyes growing softer. “Thanks again for helping me check the rooms, Ms. L/N.”
You smiled brightly, your body flushing from the praise. “Of course! It’s my job.” You laced your fingers, nails painted a cherry red, together to act as professional and un-guilty as possible. “I’m sure the overnight nurses won’t have too many to check up on. Most of the patients were discharged because of the storm coming and some are asleep.”
Gojo took a look at the calendars, smirking teasingly at you. “So this is what you’ve got in store for your snowy night? I thought you had a date with your cat.”
“After my shift, I do,” you giggled. “Which ends in about…” You paused, checking your SmartWatch. “Five minutes.”
“You can take off early,” Gojo chuckled with a wink. “Then we’ll walk out with you. It’s pretty dark outside, so we wouldn’t want you gettin’ lost.” You glanced at the double doors leading out of the hospital to the side parking lots. It was pretty dark and the ice on the street might’ve made you slip, so you needed some assistance.
It definitely wasn’t because you wanted to spend more time with your favorite doctors.
“Sure,” you replied, smiling shyly. “Let me just get my coat and we can head out.” Gojo grinned while Nanami seemed pretty nonchalant. “Sure thing,” Gojo replied. "We’ll get our shit and wait here for you.” He and Nanami then walked down the hallway to their offices, their shoes clicking across the tiled floor.
You used that time logging out of your work computer and getting your items together to mentally prepare yourself for a few minutes alone with the doctors one on two. With no one else around. Usually, if you worked with them, there was always others around or so much commotion that you couldn't focus on chatting with up. But now, surrounded by nothing but the cold winter air and snow, maybe you could.
When you finally returned to the front desk with your red trench and backpack, the doctors were waiting patiently for you, looking sexy as hell in their waistcoats. Gojo smiled as you began to walk in stride next to them, headed to the employee parking lots down the hall. “Pretty coat,” he commented. “That color looks nice on you.”
You flushed under your coat, especially under Nanami’s intense gaze that seemed to stay on you as you walked. He made a noise in his throat, probing Gojo to ask, “So you don’t think think it’s a pretty coat, Dr. Nanami?” He smirked at Nanami, toying with him.
The blonde shot a sharp look at him, his cheeks a hot pink. “I didn't say that…but you know those comments classify as harassment, right?” Gojo grabbed his heart, offended, while you just giggled. “I’ve heard a lot worse. Thank you, Dr. Gojo.”
Gojo cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, and you flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry. It’s a habit.” He then lightly laughed, the sound giving you butterflies. “Don’t worry about it. It’s cute.”
Cute. He thought you were cute. ‘Don't think about it too much,’ you repeated to yourself, the mantra looping in your head. Quickly, you recovered, clearing your throat as your shoes tapped together against the tiled hospital floor in the empty wing. “S-So what of you two? Do you have any Valentine’s Day plans tonight?”
Gojo laughed at your question. “With my bed, yes. I’m so exhausted from that surgery today, I could pass out right now.” He groaned and rolled his neck, your eyes shooting to his bobbing Adam’s Apple in his thick throat.
“What about you, Dr. Nanami?”you asked, quickly whirling your head around to the blonde. He passively shrugged, idly walking beside you. “I’m don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day much. It isn’t considered a holiday in my eyes—just something for marketing companies to use as fuel for consumption.”
“You have a point,” you replied and then sheepishly smiled. “But I can’t act like I don’t love my little love mugs and decorations.”
Gojo snapped, grinning at you. “Oh, yeah, was that you who decorated the employee lounge? It’s so friggin’ adorable!” His eyes shone so much with adoration that you felt your face grow hot. “Nanami loves usin’ that red ‘I Love Ya A Latte’ mug too,” he teased, making the blonde glare daggers at him.
You had decided to decorate the employee lounge with red and pink streamers, seasonal mugs, and pink hearts a week before the holiday, having done it for Halloween and Christmas too. You giggled, moving a hand out to push the door once you made it to the exit. “Thanks, I do too! I’ll bring in some Halloween ones next ti—“
Click. You scowled at the door, confused. You pushed at the door again, only for it to make that one sound as it unyieldingly stayed locked from the inside. You pushed again, harder this time, only for the door to not budge.
“What’s wrong?” Nanami demanded. He stood beside you, helping you push at the door. “I-I don’t know,” you stammered. “I can’t…argh! I can’t get it open!” The doctor gently moved you out of the way and pushed at the door with his full weight, grunting as he did.
“Someone locked us in?” Gojo asked. Nanami shook is head, taking his glasses off to wipe at his forehead. “No, worse: we’re snowed in. The entire front door is blocked off.”
“What?!” you exclaimed, shocked. You peered outside from the door, seeing now that tons of snow was pushing up against the door. “But the news said it wouldn’t storm until after 9 PM!”
“Guess they miscalled it,” Nanami suspected. “They usually do.” Gojo concurred, sighing frustratedly as he peered down at his phone. “News just updated sayin’ it’s not gonna stop snowing till tomorrow morning. We probably won’t get anybody out here to pave us out till tomorrow then.”
“So…we’re just stuck here all night?” you ask, slightly panicked. What about your cat? What about schoolwork? And most importantly, what about your hormones? How were you going to survive a night snowed in the hospital with your two hot bosses?
Noticing your apprehension, Nanami moved in to comfort you. “Let’s call some people and see what we can do first. I’m sure we can get somebody out here tonight.” You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you let yourself feel comforted by Nanami’s hazel eyes and soft tone.
“On the bright side!” Gojo chirped. “Now you can spare a little drink with me and Nanami here, right? We’ve got a stash of great coffee in the doctors’ lounge.” He gave you a wink that tempted you.
“Only if you want to,” Nanami rushed. “I know it’s weird to drink with your bosses.” He shot a look at Gojo, silently telling him to pipe down. But Gojo rolled his eyes. “You’re actin’ like she’s doin’ shots with us, Ken. And she knows us! She’s been working with us for six months now!”
To stop the two from arguing, and because you’ll need to stay awake for the next hour or so to hear some news, you agree to some coffee. The doctors then whisked you away to the private lounge reserved strictly for doctors and told you to get comfortable. You placed your coat and bag aside before sitting down on one of the comfortable massage chairs sitting adjacent to a coffee table, lounge couches (one of which Gojo was occupying), and a tiny kitchenette where Nanami was busy making coffee.
He took off his lap coat and hung it by the door, so you could clearly see his back muscles flexing under the blue fabric of his skirt and the veins popping in his arms. His hands, so big, firm, and capable, skillfully and routinely placed coffee beans into the electric grinder, placed the grounds in the filter, and began to brew the coffee in a tiny pot.
With each press, pour, and squeeze, you watched his hands, imagining them squeezing, touching, and folding you in half. You often watched Gojo’s hands from afar too, usually while you assisted him before and after a surgery, watching him place his latex gloves on and slip them off, exposing those long fingers that you’d want stroking you while Nanami has his hands wrapped around your neck or your—
“You like it extra hot, right?” the doctor asked. You blinked at him, noticing him staring at you expectantly. “Huh?” you dumbly questioned.
“Your coffee. You like it extra hot?” He lifted the pot which had stopped brewing. When did that happen? “O-Oh, yeah!” you squeaked, whispering a weak “thank you” when he poured you a cup in a mug littered in pink hearts.
Gojo grinned at you, nodding at the cabinet above the sink. “We’ve got a nice little stash in here if you wanna get real warm.” You couldn’t even think about alcohol tonight. You already got horny off of wine glass of wine!
Nanami came back over with your mug, holding it out to you in his big hand. You took it, your fingers brushing his knuckles. “Thank you,” you whispered, doing your best to quell those tingles. You held the mug between your thighs in your hands, focusing only on the aroma of sweet, roasted coffee beans. “Sit back and relax,” the doctor murmured. "We may be here for awhile.”
“Nanami,” Gojo huffed, looking at him pointedly. The doctor shrugged, taking his firm ass back over to the kitchenette to pour himself a mug. “I’m only being honest. At this time a night, it’ll be hard to reach someone, especially during a snowstorm.”
“It’s okay,” you sighed, defending Nanami before Gojo could scold him further . “It’s just, it sounds stupid, but…my cat. She’s gonna be so lonely.” You stared down at your coffee, realizing that you never put any sugar or cream in it.
Suddenly, you heard footsteps scuffling across the floor and looked up, nearly gasping when you saw Gojo so close to you. He had to lean down to reach you, tapping away on his phone. “I know how it is, bein’ a cat dad myself, but once we get out of here, you’ll have plenty of time to make your absence up to her.”
He bought up a photo and smiled, leaning towards you to show off the little white Persian cat sitting on his couch. You tried not to inhale too deeply, afraid of getting caught whiffing his addicting cologne. “Here he goes, my little Gaja.” He was a cat dad too?! You felt yourself grow 100x more attracted to the surgeon. “Awww!” you cooed. “This is my tabby girl.” Quickly, you took out your phone and showed him your orange tabby.
His pink lips quirked into a smile, his blue eyes trailing over to you. “Adorable,” he cooed. “Just like her—”
His words were currently cut off by a sound, as if the electricity had stopped, the the room was suddenly catapulted into darkness. You jumped, immediately turning your phone flashlight on.
“Shit, did the power cut?” Gojo huffed, looking up at the ceiling. Without his flashlight, Nanami strode over to the door and stuck his head out. You could see that the hallway was dark but you could still hear the buzz from TVs coming from the hospital rooms. “Looks like just the lights and phone service. The TVs and electrical sockets are still working.”
You looked down at your phone and sure enough, the bars were low. Damn. So no calling anyone. You sighed, plopping your phone onto the table. “I can’t get any service. So we’re stuck here.” Gojo, noticing your dismay, gently nudged you with his elbow. “You’ve never worked an overnighter, have ya?” he joked with a crooked smirk. “Well, this is the perfect chance. Sorry you’re stuck with us old guys though.”
You managed to smile despite the wiggling in your gut, still nervous to be stuck here with your crushes. “You’re both in your late thirties,” you chuckled. “Plus, it’s better to be stuck with people than alone.” Gojo nodded, clinking his mug with yours. “Cheers to that.”
For the next couple of minutes of trying to get service and sipping your coffee while sitting with your bosses in the dark lounge, you finally pushed your half-drunk mug away and smiled at Gojo. “Since we’re here, I guess I’ll take that wine now.” The surgeon grinned, skipping over to the kitchenette while Nanami sighed, obviously not too keen on drinking at work. Gojo opened the cabinet, revealing a stash of tequila, wine, brandy, and whiskey bottles. “Pick your poison.”
You gaped at the bottles, shocked. “This isn’t a very nutritious stash,” you joked. “Would you recommend this to patients?” Gojo and Nanami smirked at your joke, liking your humor. “I, for one, would,” the surgeon quipped. “It cures stress the same way donuts do. Us doctors need it.”
You shone your flashlight on another cabinet, helping Gojo gather glasses. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. You guys are very busy in here.” Gojo hummed in acknowledgement, passing you a glass goblet. “I’m sure as a college girl, you can understand. If you drink, that is.”
He flashed you a white-toothed grin, making you feel giddy like a schoolgirl getting her crush’s attention. “I’m in a nursing program about to graduate in the summer. So yes, I drink.”
Gojo gave you a humored smile as you chose a bottle of white wine. “You’re funny,” he chuckled, taking the bottle and a wine opener. “We don’t get much time to chat in between shifts, what with surgeries, traumas and all.” Unbeknownst to you, Nanami watched you closely from afar, pushing his coffee away. He didn’t have the appetite for it anymore.
Moments later, Gojo poured all three of you glasses of wine and rose his glass for a toast. “Cheers! To a very interesting Valentine’s Day.”
Clink!
You sipped the crisp, juicy wine in unison with your bosses, your bones immediately relaxing into your seat. “Mmm,” you hum, not realizing that the two doctors were staring you down. You placed your phone on the coffee table facedown, casting a soft, bright glow over some of the room while the rest was shrouded in darkness.
It was strange. You knew that Nanami and Gojo were nowhere near you, but you felt as if they were sitting right next to you, trapping you between them. The problem was that you wouldn’t have a problem with that if it happened. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked for the wine. Even so, you took another sip, but only shivered as a chill ran through you. “Cold?” Nanami asked. Before you could answer, he got up and took his lab coat from the coat hanger, holding it out to you. You stared at him, shocked by the gesture. “Here. Just take it.”
Silently, you accepted his coat and shrugged it on, unaware of Gojo’s watchful eye. The scent of Nanami’s Bleu De Chanel cologne engrained in the fabric of his lab coat turned you on, making you throb between your legs. “Sorry again about this,” the doctor apologized, now standing by the door to check on patients and overnight staff if need be. “I know you had plans for tonight.”
“O-Oh, it’s fine!” you stammered. “All I was gonna do was eat chocolate and snuggle with my cat.” Gojo’s brows knitted in confusion. “So you were seriously about that? I could’ve sworn ya had a date tonight.”
For some reason, you felt your entire body flush as if you were just caught in a lie. “It’s just something we overheard from the nurses at the front desk,” Nanami explained, quickly rushing to dampen Gojo’s prying words. “But it’s none of our business,” he sharply added.
He didn’t elaborate, but you knew what he meant: nurse gossip. Not by Yuki, but definitely by a nosey nurse overhearing you. Now you have no choice but to confess and let the layers of your vulnerability show. “I had a date planned for tonight that fell through,” you sighed. “Well, I cancelled it ‘cause of the snow, but also ‘cause…” You paused, realizing you were going too far.
“Because?” Gojo pushed. “C’mon, we’re all adults here, right?”
The silenced swelled around you the more you kept quiet. “He wasn’t my type,” you finally admitted. “Well, he was until he invited me over to his place when we hadn’t even met yet. Online dating is not for the weak.” You tried to laugh it off, but it sounded weak. Your heart pounded hard in your chest like you were anticipating something big.
You expected the doctors to pity you for being a single college girl alone on Valentine’s Day, but instead, Gojo hummed in disapproval. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet there,” he commented as he sipped his wine. “So it was a online date. Nanami and I were tryin’ to figure out if it was someone in here.”
You looked at him, confused, seeing the light pour into his intense blue eyes. “No, you were,” Nanami growled at the surgeon. “I was busy reviewing documents and happened to be there.” Gojo shrugged, still staring at you, not denying or confirming Nanami’s words.
You suddenly felt hot and uneasy, your clothes feeling too stuffy. “I-I don’t date much of anyone at the office. Makes things too complicated, you know?” You looked away from Gojo’s eyes, finding that it was become hard to, and took another sip of wine before placing it on the coffee table.
“U-Um, I have to go to the bathroom,” you hurriedly said, standing from your chair. “I’ll be right back.” In your haste to leave the room, you blindly snatched your phone up. As you did, you grew dizzy and lost your footing, stumbling and falling to the ground. You felt a searing pain shoot up into your ankle, causing you to hit the floor on your ass. “Ouch!”you squeaked.
“Shit!” Nanami you heard swore, immediately flashing his flashlight on you. Gojo was by your side in an instant, “Are you alright?” His blue eyes were worried, his brows drawn in concern. You felt stupid. “Y-Yeah,” you said with a wince. “Just bumped into the table and fell too hard on my ankle. That was so dumb.”
Then it was Nanami’s turn to comfort you, bending down to check out your ankle. “You’re not dumb,” he softly growled. “You’re one of the smartest girls in this place. We wouldn’t want to work with you if you weren’t.” You flushed hotly at his words, feeling those butterflies despite the throbbing pain you felt in your ankle.
“Let’s get you patched up,” Nanami murmured. “Can you stand?” You took his big, waiting hand and tried to stand, but as you planted your foot down, you only felt a strong, throbbing sensation that made you whimper.
Suddenly, you were being hiked off of the ground with ease by the surgeon, making you squeak in surprise. You threw your arms around Gojo’s neck, your heart hammering wildly. “Whoa!” you gasped. “Satoru, you don’t—“
“Quiet,” he interrupted. “You’re hurt. Let us help you, Y/N. Doctors’ orders.” He gave you a wink while Nanami gathered your phone and bag, taking the items with them. He locked up the lounge before they whisked you away down the hall to a nearby office, complete with a leather medical bench, a desk and desktop computer, and all kinds of medical posters about the human body and diseases. Not too very romantic.
After placing your bag down and setting his phone facedown so the flashlight would light the room up, Nanami got to work immediately, pulling out a first aid kit and rolling up in a wheeled chair while Gojo gently sat you down on the bed, kicking the door shut with his foot. “Sit up right here, miss,” he said in his silky voice, a teasing lilt lacing his words. “We’ll getcha fixed up in no time.”
You were silent, aroused beyond belief, as you sat on the bench and let the two men work on you. The room was silent, only filled with your slightly labored breathing and the rustling of your clothes as Nanami rolled up your pant leg to reveal your slightly-swollen ankle. Gently, he pressed his fingers into it, making you flinch. “Does that hurt?” he softly asked. You nodded, biting your lip. “You didn’t break anything, but there’s quite a bit of swelling. Just breathe for me.”
You did so, letting him take off your Sketcher slip-on, and pull on some latex gloves that made you imagine some very nasty things. He then applied some anti-swelling cream to his fingers and gently applied it to your ankle. You continued to breathe even at the cool sensation of the cream and Nanami’s skillful fingers rubbing across your skin.
“Good girl,” Gojo cooed from behind you. “You’re doin’ so well for us.” You swallowed hard, hearing your heart pound in your ears. The room felt too tiny and you felt too big, like Alice after eating too much of a cookie in Wonderland and growing to the size of a house. “Thank you,” you whispered, unable to be louder than that. “This is so embarrassing.”
You covered your face to hide your face, not wanting to look at the doctors. “Nothin’ to be embarrassed about,” Gojo cooed. “It was an accident.” Then his hands were on your shoulders, gentle and comforting. He hissed as he pressed into your muscles while Nanami began to wrap your ankle up in bandages. “God, you’re tense here, Y/N. When’s the last time you stretched?”
You turned to face him to answer, but you didn’t calculate how close he’d actually be to you. He was only a few inches short of your face; if he leaned any closer and bent down, he could kiss you. His blue eyes trailed over your features before falling onto your lips, and for moment flitting moment, you actually thought he was gonna—
“All done,” Nanami announced. You whipped around to face your bandaged ankle, tight and secure. “Luckily, you’re off tomorrow and Saturday, so you should use that time to rest.”
Yes. Saturday. Work. Your job. “O-Oh, yeah,” you agreed. “Thanks again for giving me off on Saturday.” You usually always work Saturday mornings, but your bosses surprised you with a gift. Nanami shrugged, taking his gloves off with only his teeth. God, that was hot. “You’ve been workin’ really hard lately. You deserve the break. I have no doubt that you won’t go against my medical advice either.”
He gave you a quirk of a humored smirk, giving you a peek of that dry humor that he only showed you in the process. Maybe it was the wine, but in a soft, breathless voice, you whispered, “No, Dr. Nanami. I won’t.” You watched doctor’s smile fade and his eyes grow hooded in the bright glow of the flashlight.
You hoped he didn’t see the longing in your eyes. In the brightness of the flashlight, you couldn’t hide it; you knew it.
Suddenly, Gojo squeezed your shoulders, grinning down at you. “Then for doing so well, you deserve a treat,” he chuckled. “Pass her that lollipop jar, Nanami. She’s earned it. Consider it a V-Day gift.” Maybe you were imagining it, but you thought his voice sounded silkier than normal.
Nanami slowly reached for the lollipop jar sitting on the desk and held it in his lap. His muscular, warm-looking lap. “What’s your flavor?” he asked, his voice dripping like honey over you.
The walls were closing in tighter and tighter, boxing you in. “Cherry,” you answered, unable to stop your voice from growing soft and breathy. As he passed it to you, your fingers brushed, just briefly, but it was enough to make heat rush through your body. Electricity shot through you, hot and fast, put you never pulled your fingers away.
And neither did Nanami. His hazel eyes were locked dead on yours, assessing you as he would a patient but on a deeper, imitate level. Too intimate. “What else did you want for your V-Day?” he asked, shocking you as you thought Gojo would’ve asked you this question. It seemed out of character for him…but then again, you were acting out of character too.
His fingers suddenly covered yours on the jar and it began clear, without a single doubt, that he was just as attracted to you as you were to him. There was no going back now. “This,” you softly confessed.
Gojo luckily took the jar before Nanami dropped it, not paying any attention to it anymore. His attention was all on you, his hand still covering yours between your bodies on the bench. His face inched closer and closer, making you feel disoriented and dizzy. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “Tell me that this is inappropriate.”
But you didn’t do either, so he finished closing the gap between you, finally pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, giving you both time to get used to this new feeling. But as his cologne entrapped your senses and his stubble prickled your cheeks, you pressed yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.
His hands laid on your waist, gripping you to him, as he stood between your thighs, bending down to kiss you. The kiss grew deeper and heated, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You parted your lips, letting him slide his tongue in your mouth, gentle yet eager. It was the best kiss you’d ever gotten.
In your heated moment, you forgot that someone else was in the room. “Ah, fuck,” Gojo sighed, sounding disappointed. “So you do like Nanami. Figures.” Slowly, you pulled away to find the handsome surgeon still standing there, a disappointed smile on his face. “S’okay, baby. I was hopin’ that you’d pick me, but I can understand why you didn’t.”
You blinked, your blank mind reworking after that hot kiss made you forget where you were. “W-What?” you stammered, confused.
Gojo dropped his head almost in shame, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fuckin’ crazy about you,” he sighed. “I can’t help it. You’re just too perfect.”
You felt Nanami’s lips on your neck, gently caressing your skin. “Nanami,” you whispered, tingles popping over your skin from his hot, soft lips. He groaned as if the sound of your name on his lips deeply affected him. “I felt the same,” he admitted. “I tried to fight it. I knew it wasn’t ‘work appropriate’, but every time I thought about you with someone else…someone who didn’t deserve you…”
He never finished his thought, but he didn’t have to—you were on fire, unable to fully focus due to their lingering gazes and Nanami’s kisses. It all felt so surreal. Was it a dream? Did you fall in the doctors’ lounge and hit your head? “I…feel the same,” you confessed, managing to find your voice. You looked at Gojo and then turned to Nanami, conveying your feelings to both.
Their eyes widened in realization, your words slapping them in the face. “You’ll have to choose then,” Nanami said, his tone firm yet desperate. How long has he felt like this about you? Gojo stepped forward, his hand gently cascading down your arm. “I can’t share you either, baby, I’m sorry. I’m a selfish motherfucker.”
Their words still felt like a ridiculous dream. Like a hallucination after listening to too many smutty audiobooks. “I can’t,” you replied, licking your lips. “I’m sorry, but I can’t choose. I need both of you.”
Silence, tense and thick, descended upon you, but Gojo cut through it with a soft chuckle. “So our little nurse can’t choose between us good doctors,” he cooed. His long fingers pressed against your jaw, turning you to meet his molten-hot gaze. “You sure that’s what you want, baby?”
Nanami was in front of you too, his hazel irises just as heated as Gojo’s. In the dark, you allowed yourself to relax and finally give in to your affections. “Yes,” you softly replied. Quickly, Gojo pressed his lips to yours, eager and needy, his soft lips smashing against yours. You moaned, cupping his face as you felt his tongue slip against yours. And yes, he did have a tongue piercing.
“Then show us,” Nanami ordered, urgent and impatient as he watched you kiss his partner. “Right here, right now.” Slowly, you stripped off his lab coat, leaving it discarded on the floor. Nanami didn’t care, too focused on getting his mouth back on you.
As he heatedly kissed you, his big hands cupping your face, you felt Gojo’s hands caress your sides, coming around the front to hike your top up over your stomach. “This okay?” he panted. You nodded, lips still locked with Nanami’s. “Arms up, baby. Let’s give you the Valentine’s Day you deserve.”
You did as you were told, lifting your arms to allow Gojo to slide your blue scrubs top off, exposing the white push-up bra littered in tiny pink hearts underneath. And your gorgeous, soft tits. “God, look at you,” Gojo groaned while Nanami covered his mouth at the sight of you, looking almost pained. “I’ve thought about you so many times like this.”
You wanted to tell them how much you’ve imagined them too. How your thoughts over lunch or dreams while you slept were consumed with images of their muscles, your nails dragging across their chests, and their lips parted as they moaned while filling you up over and over again. Nanami came to you, placing his big hands on your waist and, after you lick off your other shoe, sliding your pants down your legs, exposing the obvious wet spot in your red lace panties.
You only cream and pool even more into your panties at the sight of Nanami’s big hands sliding up to grasp your hips, his hazel eyes filled with molten lust. “You stay there. You don’t have to move at all for this part, darling.” His silky, deep voice wrapped around the pet name reserved for you makes you shiver.
“S’okay, mama, we’ve got you,” Gojo cooed, gently laying you back onto the bench. “Just relax for us. Let your doctors take good care of you.” As Nanami began to kiss up and down your thighs and calves, Gojo took his place beside him, both of them kneeling right in front of your pussy. “Wanna share?” he chuckled to Nanami. “Consider it a double oral examination.”
Nanami didn’t answer right away, too busy getting an answer from you first. “You’re still okay with this, darling?” he softly asked. “You can say no at anytime.” But you shook your head, biting your lip as Gojo ran his pierced tongue over your panty-covered slit, drawing a whimper out of you. “Tell me you need it,” Nanami softly ordered, his big hands gripping your thighs.
“Please,” you begged as you felt yourself gush against Gojo’s tongue. “I need it, Kento. I need your tongue too.” Sensing your need and building arousal, Nanami finally dragged your panties down your ankles, exposing your pretty, puffy pussy dripping in wetness to himself and the surgeon. As Gojo groaned at the sight of you, Nanami wasted no time putting his mouth on you, giving you a very thorough “oral examination” with those soft lips and that fat tongue of his.
You gasped, your nails digging into the leather bench. “Oh, fuck!” you groaned, your body quivering at the feeling of Nanami gently slurping your pussy and sucking on your clit, his tongue prying your soddened-wet pussy lips apart. He hummed against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your hole. “A-Ah!” you gasped, your back arching slightly.
Nanami’s eyes ticked up to meet yours between the V of your thighs. “Good?” he asked. His calloused hands moved down to cup your ass, gripping and massaging it as he pressed open-mouthed kisses on your clit. “Fuck yes!” you yelped. “Please more!”
Gojo grinned as Nanami continued to eat you out, watching in awe the way your pussy gushed and dripped over his lips and chin. “You’re drippin’ so much for us, baby,” he cooed. “Has anyone been treatin’ this pretty pussy right?” Biting your lip, you shook your head to which he nodded, understanding. “Shame. Good thing you’ve got me.”
“And me,” Nanami grunted before using his tongue to take a long lick up your slit. Then he dipped his tongue into your hole as his nose nudged against your clit. You nearly screamed, your back arching off of the bench as tingles shot through your body. Your back damn near snapped when you suddenly felt Gojo’s tongue playfully lick at your puckered asshole.
“Gotta examine you here too,” he murmured, his finger lightly brushing you there. You shivered, a whimper leaving your lips as Nanami’s tongue continued to explore your pussy. “Is that okay, cutie?” Gojo cooed. "It’s such a cute lil’ hole.” You nodded, giving him the okay. He then stretched his tongue and began to gently lick your asshole, not yet pressing it into you to pass your rim.
At the same time, Nanami continued to work his tongue inside of you, his nose rubbing against your clit, causing electric sparks to pop throughout your body. “Oh,” you moaned, reaching out to grab his blonde hair. “Kento, yes.” You pushed his head deeper into your pussy, earning a groan of approval from the doctor. “Say my name too, baby,” Gojo purred. “I’m startin’ to feel left out.”
He then puckered his lips up and sucked on your asshole, coating it in his spit. Your mouth fell agape, the pleasure making you insane. “F-Fuck, Satoru, yes! Do that again!” He grinned as you grabbed his hair too, pushing him back down towards your asshole. “Like this?” he teased. “Mmm, you taste so good here, lil’ cutie.”
You then felt his tongue, fat and pierced, slide past the rim of your asshole to slide inside of you, filling your second hole the way Nanami filled your pussy. You were a moaning, whimpering, slutty little mess, writhing on the bench as the two doctors’ held your thighs wide open to fuck your holes better with their tongues. “Oh, fuck!” you moaned, loud enough to wake the entire wing, so you covered your mouth.
The two continued to do tricks with their tongues and soft lips to try and make you louder, drawing all kinds of pornographic sounds of you. Gojo chuckled against your asshole while Nanami moaned into your pussy, sounding like an eager man who just loved going down on a girl. The wet sounds of their tongues sloshing around in your holes filled the air and the darkness, only drawing you close to your peak.
Soon, with your hand still clamped over your mouth, you felt that knot in your core tighten.“Oh, my God!” you squeaked, your palm muffling your sounds. “I-I’m gonna cum!” Nanami only licked you faster, curling his tongue up to brush the spot that made you see stars. “Mmm-hmm,” Gojo hummed into your asshole, still licking and slurping away, his fingers pressing deep into your inner thigh.
Finally, with a broken moan, you gripped Nanami’s hair as you came all over his mouth, your hips gyrating lewdly into his face. Both his and Gojo’s hands pinned you down as you shook and shivered, the aftershocks of your intense O taking you on a journey. You moaned and whined into your hand, your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure poured through your muscles, finally leaving a satisfied smile on your face. It was the best orgasm that any man had given you.
You stared at the two doctors in awe as they stood from between your thighs, licking your wetness off of their fully lips. Gojo smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your pussy, making you jump and twitch from the slight touch. “You seem to be all good down here, miss. Better than good, actually~”
You giggled, sitting up from the bench. You then saw them both in the darkness, bulging from their pants, the outline of their big dicks pulsing through the fabric. “You’re both tense here too,” you announced, dragging your hands over their hard cocks through their slacks.
The doctors watched you, interested and surprised at your boldness. You began to stroke them, your pussy throbbing at their hard lengths pulsing in your palms, just as thick as their arms.
“Fuck,” Nanami sighed, his eyelids fluttering closed as your hand trailed up and down his hard cock. He tilted his head back, exposing the delicious column of his neck. “Then you wouldn’t mind helpin’ a doc out, would you, baby?” Gojo slurred, biting his lip at the feeling of your hand on him.
“O-Only if you want to,” Nanami stuttered out, but even he was jutting his hips into your touch. It gave you the impression that it had been a loooong while since the two doctors had a soft touch and a wet mouth. You were prepared to hand deliver both to them wrapped up in a red bow.
Gojo smirked as your hand cascaded up his toned stomach to slide his blue shirt up, exposing his abs and the fine, white hair pebbling his V-line. “You want us naked, baby girl?” he teased. “You want your doctors worked up and horny for you, don’t you?” He squeezed your chin with his big palm, shuddering when you nodded, your eyes locked with his. “Good girl. So sweet.”
To your satisfaction and pleasure, they had you sit back on the bench and watch them strip, the glare of light from your cellphone illuminating their forms. You gaped at their delicious bodies, arousal and want coursing through your veins. Your eyes drank in their arms, big, beefy and large enough to put you in a headlock. Their toned, tree-trunk thighs and calves. Their delicious chest hair and happy trails. The veins pulsing underneath their hands, biceps…
And their big, beautiful, rock hard, thick cocks. Gojo was slightly longer than Nanami and had a hook that made him lean over, bobbing in the air, while Nanami was girthier and had bigger balls sinewy with blonde hair, his head dripping and sticky with pre-cum for you. The need to give them your own “oral examination” sprang through you, blooming inside of you like a flower.
Their eyes held lust as they watched you edge up to the bench, beckoning them forward with your eyes. All was silent except for your labored breathing and their soft groans as you began to stroke them after spitting in your hands. You get their dicks nice and slick in your saliva, watching their handsome faces screw with pleasure. You quivered with need, your pussy leaking all over yourself, as the feeling of their cocks so big, heavy, and thick in your hands. Nanami groaned, watching in awe as your slender hand slid up and down his hard dick, smearing the pre-cum all over his shaft.
Gojo directed his hips towards your face and you allowed it, even placing your lips in direction of his pink dick-head. “Say ‘aaah’, cutie pie. Stick out that tongue f’me.” You opened your mouth wide and hummed out, “Aaaah” as Gojo slapped his big cock against your tongue. Tap-tap-tap.
Then he slowly slid inside, stretching out the walls of your mouth. “Mmm, that’s it,” he purred, his white lashes fluttering slightly as his lids grew hooded. “That’s s-so…good.” You moaned around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut. For so long, you wondered how he’d feel stretching out your mouth and how he’d taste on your tastebuds. You decided right then that your imagination didn’t compare to real life.
You moaned again as Gojo began to slowly rock his hips, thrusting his cock in your mouth, while Nanami fucked your hand. Your pussy spilled and gushed all over the bench, making your thighs sticky. “Ya like that?” the surgeon chuckled. You nodded, causing him to moan louder as his cock slid down your throat. “Shit, baby…who knew that—oh, fuck—all it took to cheer you up was—mmm, fuck yeah—a big cock in that pretty mouth, hm?”
Gojo couldn’t control the pornographic sounds escaping him as he watched your soft lips wrap around his cock, sucking him in the more he pushed himself down your sloppy throat. He bite his lush bottom lip, his cock throbbing and growing thicker in your throat the more he fucked it, his hand circling your scalp to push himself deeper.
“Don’t be greedy,” Nanami grunted, his eyes flashing with lust as he watched you suck off his partner. “There’s two of us here.” Gojo chuckled, tossing his hands up in mock-defense as his cock slipped out of your mouth, taking your hand to fuck instead. Nanami was gentle, slowly sliding his cock in your mouth, giving you a chance to get used to him.
He stretched out your mouth and throat as he slipped in, filling the spot that Gojo once did. He groaned as he felt your throat constrict and flex around him, your free hand wrapped around whatever you couldn’t take. “Ah, fuck,” he softly groaned. “You’re so good, sweetheart. You do so well.”
You shuddered at his honeyed words, praise dripping from his lips the same way spit dripped from yours, soaking his cock and balls, making it easier to fuck your mouth. You began to bob your head, sliding his dick against your throat, jacking him off slow with it. You couldn’t stop your hand from releasing his shaft to rub your needy clit, your pussy growing wetter at the sound of Nanami’s deep, silky moans.
“Oooh, she loves praise,” Gojo chuckled, watching the way you touched yourself in time with Nanami’s slow thrusts into your mouth. “You givin’ yourself another examination, baby? That’s why we’re here.”
He smirked, his blue eyes shining. “Get on all fours,” he directed you. “Ass up, back arched. I wanna watch you suck that long dick.” You did as you were told, situating yourself carefully on the leather seat onto all fours, back arched and ass presented to Gojo. Nanami never pulled his cock out of your mouth, instead following you closely to stand in front of you while Gojo directed himself behind you.
When you felt his long fingers begin to rub your clit, you moaned around Nanami’s dick, your eyes rolling back at the heavenly feeling. Tingles and sparks of ecstasy shot through you as Gojo rubbed your rosebud, soaking his fingertips in your wetness. “Mmm, you’re givin’ me so much, baby,” he cooed. “You’re gushin’ for me. Poor girl—you don’t get enough attention from those college boys?”
You shook your head as best as you could. It was hard to do with a dick in your mouth. “They couldn’t do a thing with you,” Nanami grunted, his fingers lacing through your hair, wrapping around your ponytail. He gently tugged on it, finally releasing some control to let loose on your mouth. “They don’t know anything.”
“Mm-mm,” Gojo agreed, sucking your taste off of his fingers. “Just look at that arch! A body like this deserves so much more.” And then you felt a finger sliding inside of you. You moaned around Nanami’s cock, the feeling of Gojo’s finger swirling around your soddened pussy making your body shake. “More, baby?” he asked.
“Yes!” you gasped, your pleas muffled by Nanami’s thrusting dick. “Yes, please more! Give it to me!” He then proceeded to slid another finger inside of you, gently and sweetly stretching you and pumping them up while Nanami pumped his cock in and out of your throat. Wet, sloshing sounds filled the air as both of your holes were fucked and used by your doctors.
“You love it like this, do you?” Gojo panted, his cock growing harder as he watched himself pump his digits in and out of your dripping, puffy, pretty little pussy. You could feel his cock brush your inner thigh, throbbing and hot. “Looks like you need somethin’ bigger in there though,” he chuckled. “Is that what you want, mama, hm? You want your doctor to fuck you good on this table?”
You were so glad that he asked. You were prepared to beg for it if he hadn’t. “Yes, please,” you begged around Nanami’s dick. “Fuck me, Dr. Gojo!” You needed him like you needed air. Needed to gush and cream around his cock like your body needed to eat and sleep.
A long whine left your lips and vibrated against Nanami’s cock as you felt Gojo’s hand glide along your ass. “Y’know, usually, I’d reprimand you for callin’ me that…” He paused, moaning as his cock slapped against your clit. “But now that sounds pretty fuckin’ hot.”
“Wait,” Nanami grunted, stopping the surgeon short from sliding in. “You need a condom. There’s some in the drawer near the sink.” But as Gojo went to fetch them, you stopped him, reaching out to tug on his wrist. “You don’t have to,” you protested. “I-I’m on the pill.”
You didn’t know why your face grew hot with embarrassment when the doctors stared at you so intently, but you felt like ducking under the medical bench from it. You had went on the pill during your last relationship but never went off it, keeping yourself on it for “something special”. The universe was giving it to you on a silver platter tonight.
Gojo’s blue eyes sparkled with mirth as he strutted back over to you, his big cock swinging between his thighs sinewy with muscle. “So you wanna be fucked raw by your boss, hm?” he rasped. SMACK! He clapped his hand down on your ass, making you moan as the sharp sound carried throughout the small medical office. “God, that’s sexy. I’m gonna be fuckin’ obsessed with you after this.”
Excited butterflies flapped in your gut at his words, only intensifying when you felt the silky skin of Gojo’s cock slide against your soft, wet pussy lips. Then his tip was sticking in, sliding in inch by agonizing inch. You both intensely reacted in unison to the feeling of his cock sliding inside of you, your walls stretching deliciously aroundd him. Consequently, your throat clenched around Nanami’s cock, sucking him in deeper. “God!” he growled. “Fuck, sweetie, your throat! If you’re not careful, you’ll make me cum.”
His hand clenched around your ponytail, winding tighter and tighter as leverage when he began really fucking your throat, using you to jack himself off. “Goddamn, that made her wetter!” Gojo whined, his fingers clenching your ass. “Definitely don’t need no lube. Her pussy’s too fuckin’ soaked, Ken.”
You could feel it—you were dripping down your thighs, soaking Gojo’s cock and balls in your sweet honey. Nanami watched intensely as the surgeon fucked you, his hips flush with your ass. “Then you’d better fuck her so I can have my turn. I’m not gonna let tonight go to waste without feelin’ her squeeze ‘round my cock.”
Both of your holes clenched and squeezed around the cocks inside of them at the doctor’s dirty talk, a promise to fuck you just as good within them. “Such dirty words,” Gojo cackled, pulling you back against him. “Did ya know your boss was so nasty, baby?” He gripped your hips and pumped his hips forward and backwards, sliding his cock in and out of your dripping pussy.
“Bet that gets you off, hm? Havin’ your two bosses be so feral for you…” He bit his lip as he watched your pussy draw him in, keeping him locked inside of you the more he thrusted inside, causing you to begin bouncing back against his cock between him and Nanami.
“Fuckin’ jackin’ their big dicks off to you on their breaks,” he grunted. “Starin’ at your ass in those damn scrubs of yours.”
You moaned and whined around Nanami’s thick cock, spit dripping down his pulsing, veined shaft as your pussy quivered and fluttered around Gojo, your hips gyrating in time with his thrusts. “Faster,” Nanami ordered, his face flushed red, sweat glinting against his forehead. “Fuck her faster, Gojo. I need her to cum.”
You felt Gojo pulse inside of you, his body agreeing to that. He leaned down, pressing himself flush against you, his hands cupping your bouncing tits. “Is that what you want, cutie pie?” he teased in your ear. “You need to cum all over this dick?”
You wanted nothing more in life than that. “Please,” you keened, pulling away from Nanami’s cock, your mouth dribbling in spit. “Please, please make me cum, Satoru!”
He smiled and began to fuck you deep, hard, and slow, deep dicking you on the bench. “Good girl,” he sighed. “Fuck, you’re such a good, sweet girl f’me, oh, fuuuuck…” He sighed as you gripped him tighter than a vice, every part of your wet, satiny-soft pussy and gummy walls sucking him in, stroking a fat load out of him.
As he thrusted in, Nanami did too, the both of them pumping their dicks inside of your holes in unison, taking you to the brink of ecstasy. Until you couldn’t take anymore. Your orgasm hit you dead on, barely giving you time to sense it, as Gojo’s thrusts grew frantic, his moans filling the air. “I’m cumming!” he yelped, his silky voice bouncing off of the walls. “Take my fuckin’ load, baby, yes!”
His pornographic moans sent you into a frenzy and your pussy clenched and quivered around his cock as you finally came all over it, stroking it dry of all of his spunk. You moaned around Nanami’s cock as you came, your body shuddering like a leaf. “Fuck yes!” he moaned, digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass as he rammed himself inside of you. “Keep cummin’, baby! Keep cummin’ all for me…just for me.” He let out a stammering gasp as he pulsed inside of you, still spraying your walls with cum.
Your eyes fluttered and your hips slowed their rolling as exhaustion flooded inside of you mixed with the sweet satisfaction of an intense nut. Gojo sighed, his thrusts finally slowing and growing still as he slid his big hands over your sides to grip your ass. He gently kissed your back, his hand sliding lovingly over your ass. “Good girl,” he cooed. “You’ve still got one more cock though.”
Oh, you knew. You could feel him throbbing in your throat. “Only if you want to,” Nanami added. “If you’re tired, it’s okay. It’s all your decision, sweetie.” He gently stroked your cheek despite his arousal, giving you control once again even if you could feel that he needed so badly to fuck you stupid too.
And who were you to refuse your boss? So you lifted your eyes up to him, peering up at him through your lashes. “W-Want you,” you stuttered around his cock, spit dripping from your chin. “Fuck me, Dr. Nanami. Please…make me feel good?”
Lust flashed like fire in his hazel eyes and you knew that you were about to receive your wish. He instructed you to sit up for him and you did once Gojo slid out of you, slowly sitting on your wobbly knees as Nanami hiked himself up onto the bench.
Then he laid back onto the curved side, his head up while his lower torso laid flat, his fat cock lying against his abs. “Come here,” he cooed, slapping his lap. “Right here, sweetie. Want you to ride me.”
Beckoned by his muscular thighs spread wide for you and his pulsing cock laying against his toned, hairy stomach, you were helpless to resist. Slowly, you crawled towards him and into his lap, earning a pleased hum and a squeeze on the ass from Gojo as he watched.
You wrapped a hand around Nanami’s cock, both of you sharing a sloppy kiss, and slid it across your pussy, still overstimulated from being pounded and creaming just a moment before. When his cock slid inside of you, you made a noise between a whimper and a squeak, the pleasure too good for words.
Nanami longingly moaned as you sinked down onto his cock, his hands grabbing your hips to guide you up and down his cock. His hazel eyes stared into yours, the eye contact somehow making your pussy more open and wetter than you were before, allowing for him to plunge deeper. “You take me so good, honey,” he groaned. “You’re so beautiful up there.”
His eyes grazed over your bouncing tits and swinging ponytail as you rode his cock, gyrating your ass back and forth while Gojo stared at your ass from behind. “Kento,” you keened, grasping his chest. “Please! Give me more!” The doctor smirked up at you, leaning up to meet your soft, bouncing tits that moved so enticingly in his face. “And so needy for me too,” he teased more placing a nipple in his mouth. “How are you this fuckin’ perfect?”
You whimpered as he began to suck on your hard nipples and massage your tits, sending sparks of pleasure exploding through your body as his big, beautiful cock massaged your insides and brushed your G-spot.“‘Cause she’s fit for us,” Gojo hummed as he laid a kiss on your ass. “And you’re not goin’ anywhere, are you, baby?”
SMACK!
You flinched as Gojo’s hand came down to smack your asscheek, the sting of his palm skyrocketing you towards ecstasy. “A-Ah!” you exclaimed. “No, I promise! Fuck, Kento, you feel so good!” The doctor’s eyes shone with lust and a feralness that made your stomach flip on a thrill. “Yeah? Then keep fucking me. Use my cock like a fuckin’ toy, little one.”
You nearly came right there. So you placed your hands on his broad chest and gyrated your hips as you bounced on his cock at the same time, causing your clit to tingle from the stimulation. You reached down to frantically rub your clit in time with your bouncing, leading Nanami to lift his hips to fuck you back. You gasped, loud, desperate moans escaping from you as his hard cock pounded your wet pussy second after second.
“Oh, my God!” you wailed aloud, your eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, my—”
The rest of your slutty shout is cut off when Gojo’s cock is suddenly sliding into your mouth. “Sorry, cutie,” he chuckled. “You were just a little too loud. Plus, you mouth looked so fuckin’ yummy.”
He began to fuck your mouth in time with Nanami’s desperate thrusts, his hands gripping your ass to lock you down on top of him, his thighs slapping against yours. You could feel yourself getting closer to another intense orgasm, your eyes rolling back and muscles clenching in anticipation of it. “Look at me,” Nanami raspily demanded.
You peeled your eyes open, Gojo’s cock still leisurely fucking your mouth, and found the doctor staring at you with the sexiest face you’d ever seen on him: brows knitted, eyes glassy, face flushed from the pleasure with a clenched jaw. “M’close,” he warned you, his hazel eyes drilling into yours. “Make us cum, sweetie. Need to fuckin’ fill you up.”
You pulled away from Gojo’s cock, a line of spit attaching itself to his tip and your bottom li, and began to ride Nanami harder, riding his cock like it was stolen. “Do it,” you quietly begged, gripping his shoulders and staring into his eyes. “Fill me up, doctor. Make this pussy yours.”
“Oh, fuck!” Nanami loudly groaned, his cock throbbing at your naughty little request. He then grabbed your hips and started to fuck up into you harder, his balls slapping against your ass as he took you further and further to another orgasm. The surgeon stood beside you, pumping his cock as he watched your pretty ass and titties bounce in time with Nanami’s thrusts.
“I’m gonna cum too, babe,” Gojo warned, his face flushed and blue eyes hazy. “Let me cover those pretty tits of yours.” You could hear the wet sounds of his hand stroking his cock, his hand becoming a blur as he furiously fucked his fist.
Soft moans, gasps, and whines of desperation filled the doctor’s office as your orgasms came faster and faster. After a few more breath-taking thrusts, you came with a broken whine, your pussy releasing all the sweet cream that the doctors could hope for onto Nanami’s cock. You dug your nails into his chest, your body tensing, as you began to shake from the onslaught of pleasure that shook you to your core.
A few more sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts and the doctor below you was cumming too. Nanami came with a loud, guttural groan that he muffled with your shoulder, digging his nose into your neck as his cock throbbed, pulsed, and twitched inside of you, emptying his balls deep into your pussy. He gripped you to him, hard enough to leave marks, as he pumped his cum into your pussy hole, ensuring that you were plugged full of him.
With a whine fit for a porno, Gojo came all over your tits, jacking off each spurt of creamy spunk to cover your breasts and nipples. He groaned at the sight of his spunk dripping down your soft, supple skin, loving the sight. He then blew out an exhausted breath and softly laughed, muscles glistening in sweat.
You, on the other hand, were totally winded. You could barely keep upright—your head was blank and dizzy, making the world spin. Nanami caught on and wrapped his arms around you, slowly bringing you down with him as he laid back on the bench. “Easy, sweetie,” he cooed, slowly placing your head on his chest. “Just rest here for a minute. There’s no rush.”
Silence swelled around you, satisfying and peaceful. There was no awkwardness. No tension. Not after sex like that that completely took you to another realm. You panted against Nanami’s body, your hands lying flat on the plains of his hard chest. Gojo sat on the bench behind you, his hands gently stroking your ass.
“How was that for a Valentine’s Day?” he breathlessly chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. At the same time, Nanami kissed your forehead, sweet and gentle, still inside of you and not planning on pulling out anytime soon.
You couldn’t speak, too exhausted to do so, but you smiled against Nanami’s chest, feeling his heart beat against your cheek. And though you never verbalized it, your answer was, “Perfect.”
Summary: Grocery shopping with a 6-month-old is not for the weak. But this time, you thought you could let Mark stay home alone with the baby.
AN: Countdown may be cancelled (RIP 💙), but the fics aren’t! The news got me in my feels, so I had to dip back into ‘Til When Do Us Part for a little bonus drabble. Hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 900 words
Posted on Patreon: 10/12/25
Tags & Warnings: Established relationship (married), domestic life, dad shenanigans, fluff
Series Masterlist
“Shit. Really should’ve made two trips,” you muttered.
With another labored huff, you finally got enough grocery bags balanced in one hand that you could unlock the front door with the other. You awkwardly shuffled yourself in, your keys falling from your hand once you crossed the threshold. Your purse wasn’t far behind. It rolled off your shoulder and hit the floor.
“Goddamn it.”
You spat out a stray piece of hair that caught in your mouth and managed to shove the door closed with your ass.
It was more than a little strange to find the house…quiet. And empty.
“Babe?” you called out. “Can you help me out here?”
You were met with nothing but the muffled rumble of cars passing outside, a pack of neighbor kids yelling to each other as they rode their bikes down to the park, and Mr. Santos playing mariachi music next door. It smelled like he was barbecuing again.
You sighed, trudging into the kitchen with your haul. You grew more suspicious as you set down the groceries and looked through the house. What you didn’t find was your husband, even though his car was in the driveway.
And more importantly, where the hell was your daughter? She was barely six months old and wasn’t even at the crawling stage. How far could she get?
“Mark?”
Still, no answer.
Frowning, you went back to grab your phone and drop your purse on the kitchen counter. You called his phone and finally heard it ring, but it was distant. You followed the sound in confusion until it led you to the garage, where the riffs of classic rock drew you in. You opened the door, and your mouth fell open as your eyes tried to make sense of what was happening.
“Mark,” you gasped.
The sight of the man doing pull-ups on the 8-foot metal bar he installed was both familiar and attractive—sweat clinging to his gray sleeveless shirt and sweatpants, his arms curling with power and precision in each rep.
What threatened to stop your heart was the way your baby was strapped to his chest with one of his old hoodies, like some kind of makeshift wrap.
He perked up when he noticed you, but he didn’t let it stop him from another few pull-ups. His exertions echoed in the room.
“Hey. You happen to pick up something for lunch?" More grunting, huffs of breath. "I’m gonna need to refuel pretty soon... Could go for a sandwich. I'm thinking...salami, ham, and cheese.”
Def Leppard’s “Hysteria” was playing on a Bluetooth speaker at a moderate volume. You pressed the Pause button firmly. It succeeded in throwing off his groove.
“Are you crazy?” you said, guiding him back down to the ground while you tried to unwrap Livvie from his chest. She just looked up with her pretty eyes and smiled at you in recognition. She seemed fine chilling with her dad, blissfully unaware of how she’d been hanging several feet up in the air.
“What? She’s strapped in, my little baby weight,” Mark said with a grin, patting her on the bottom. He became even more amused when you unraveled the hoodie, and you blinked.
Your tense frame deflated in relief. Livvie was well-situated into the baby carrier strapped to his chest, clipped in around his waist and over his shoulders.
He pointed at the sweater in your hand. “That was just for extra support, make sure she’s not bouncing around.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb and kissed her on the forehead. She giggled, beating little hands on his chest. She loved kisses.
You sighed and grabbed a hand towel the man always kept nearby when he was working out. You swept it across his forehead and mopped up dewy perspiration.
“Please don’t do that again,” you said. “What if you lost your grip and fell? She could’ve gone flying—or worse.”
He raised a brow at you, even as his hand curled around the small of your back.
“You doubting my abilities?” he quipped.
Mark had spent the better part of two years regaining his strength after surgery, followed by weeks of radiation treatment. It wasn’t just about restoring his body. It was about feeling like himself again. You knew that better than anyone.
“'Course not. My man’s rock solid,” you teased, sweeping the towel over his nose. He pulled a face at the tickling cotton. “But shit happens. So play with my baby like that again, and we’re gonna have problems.”
Mark smirked. “All right, momma bear. She’s my kid too, you know.”
Said kid was just content to be held. Her cheek was resting on his chest, before you began to unclip her out of the carrier. She whined when you tried to transfer her into your arms. Her little fingers dug into his shirt.
“See?” he said in triumph, stroking her back. “She loves me more.”
You pouted. Nine months of pregnancy and eighteen hours of labor, and this was what you got?
Mark chuckled. He leaned in and pressed a sweaty kiss into your neck, making you squirm at the feeling and the prickling from his beard. But you couldn’t help a small laugh, your fingers latching onto the front of his shirt on reflex.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he rasped against your skin. “You’re still my number one girl.”
AN: 😘 I'm thinking of writing some more domestic drabbles for these two before we dive into a prequel. Who's down?
⋆˙⟡ Tag Lists || Fic Library Blog ->
(you can follow and turn on notifications)
Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!
synopsis: will being interviewed by his favorite reporter after the quarterfinals against morocco.
# warnings: none i think. not proofread.
wc: 1.1k
# mia’s note: i actually loved this more than i loved part one and i’m sooo planning to make this an au or just simply continue it. i was thinking about doing it for other players as well so let me know if that would be a good idea. i hope you enjoy and don’t forget reqs are open. with sooo much love, mia.
masterlist
part one
“I saw you trip while you were walking over here,” he said after her questions about the match were over.
Y/N was busy fixing the hairs sticking to her face. “I didn’t trip.”
“Yes you did.”
She finally turned to look at him. “People had a lot of opinions about your attitude last interview.”
William smirked, looking straight into her eyes. “Yeah? What did they say?”
“A lot of things. Some I can’t really say.”
It was true. All of her pages and William’s social media platforms were filled with comments about the interview. Some negative, some positive, and the ones that she always got when she interviewed him:
“I feel like I’m interrupting something”
“Do they ever actually look at the camera”
“The hands”
“He wants that cookie so bad”
“He wanted her to wear HIS name”
And so many more.
She didn’t respond to those. She didn’t know how to.
She didn’t think her dynamic with William was weird. Probably because she was so used to it. So was the crew at this point.
It was obvious there was something going on. Obvious to everyone but to them.
The unnecessary touches, glances that lingered just a bit too long, the endless pet names William loooved to call her.
“Did you defend my honor?”
She nodded. “Told them I stand with my cancelled wife.”
William laughed at that. He seemed so much more relaxed now, a huge difference from the last time he was being interviewed by her.
“What are you doing tomorrow? You guys got a free day, no?”
He shook his head. “Not when you play semifinals very soon.”
“You do get to see family members though, right?”
He smirked at that. “Why, you wanna come over?”
She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched up. “Answer the question.”
“We are. They’re having, like, a dinner as well.”
“Hotel food in the US is actually pretty good, you’ll have a feast.”
He nodded. “Come.”
She blinked, having to pause for a second. Her brain taking a few seconds to catch up. “Sorry?”
“If I invite you they’ll let you in.”
“It’s for your families.”
“You said I was your wife.”
“William.”
“You can be my husband then.”
Y/N sighed before responding.
“I’m not sneaking into a family dinner.”
“You won’t be sneaking in, I’m literally inviting you.”
“It doesn’t feel right though.”
“It will,” he winked at her. And even though he was only teasing, she felt her cheeks getting hot.
“Cameras are still running, Willy-Billy.”
He looked at her for a few seconds. He had been so focused on the interview, on her eyes, on her, that he hadn’t noticed how shaken she actually looked.
“Y/N.”
“What?”
“You’re sweating.”
“I mean, it is summertime in North America.”
He shook his head and looked down at her clothes. “I think it might be because wearing a jacket.”
Y/N closed her eyes briefly. She was hoping he wouldn’t notice about the thin jacket she was wearing over her shirt.
William frowned. “Why are you wearing a jacket?”
“It went well with my outfit.”
He analyzed her face for a beat. “You’re lying.”
“I wanted to try something new.”
“No you did not. Do you have a shirt under?”
“I do.”
It was very obvious. She never wore anything other than a jersey with the choice of bottoms she wanted.
It was her brand. What made her stand out.
And William was aware or that.
“Your shoes are untied.”
“I’m wearing flip-flops.”
He took the mic from her hand and she took the jacket off.
William swore his eyes were actually blessed.
She was wearing France’s home kit, folded. But the white 17 on the front was unmistakable.
She had listened to him.
He smirked for the millionth time since the crew went live, but it slowly turned into a smile. A warm one.
“Turn around.”
She snatched the microphone from him and turned to the camera. “Thank you guys, once more, for staying while the players gave us a piece of their mind. Please don’t forget to leave the questions you’d like me to ask them in the comments. Enjoy the rest of today’s match day!”
Once the cameras were off and Y/N’s crew started to go away to gather their stuff, she reached for her jacket, but William held it just out of her reach.
She narrowed her eyes at him, irritated. “I don’t have time for this, William, come on.”
“You don’t call me William while the cameras are off.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have to go. My back hurts and I need a shower. My flight is at midnight.”
“You’re staying in Boston until our game, right?”
“Will.”
“You’re coming tomorrow. We go back to Boston in a few hours so maybe we’ll catch you at the airport.”
“My jacket, William.”
“Let me take a picture with you.”
She looked at him, unimpressed. And he waited a few seconds for her to say yes.
She didn’t. But when he started walking away with her jacket on his hand she took a deep breath.
“Take it.”
He turned around with a smile. “I want a selfie.”
She nodded impatiently. “Okay. Go.”
He positioned himself next to her, grabbed his phone, and placed his arm on her shoulders.
She smiled. And right before the picture was taken, William kissed her cheek.
She gasped as he pulled away. “You can’t post that.”
He tucked a strand of hair that was out of place behind her ear. His eyes were shining, like actually shining. And his smile was big.
“I’ll give you your jacket back tomorrow at dinner, okay? Take care, pretty girl.”
He left her standing with no jacket, phone blowing up, and coworkers smirking like they knew something she didn’t.
And she didn’t really care about the jacket, but now she felt like she needed it back.
Since Logan has mutated he's become more animal-like. Sometimes he goes feral. He turns into a feral wolf. Especially when he's in heat. Yes. He has heat seasons. Once to two times a year. And by feral I mean feral.
And what does he do when that happens? He locks himself in his cabin that was gifted to him by his friends from Xaviers when he almost broke the school kitchen.
Recently though. His heat has been worse. There's this new guy in the school named Y/n. And he and Logan grew close almost instantly. Logan thinks he's starting to fall in love with him. But he doesn't want to accept it. Not when all the people he loved got hurt because of him.
Now it's October. And to Logan's luck. His heat is starting. And his heat lasts for as long as possible. So he'll have to inform Ororo so she doesn't plan a birthday party as she likes to do because he'll definitely still be in heat during his birthday.
Ororo understood immediately and cancelled her already plan in the works and just gave Logan his birthday present early. Y/n on the other hand. He had a lot of gifts. And he couldn't just give them to Logan in the open. So he waited.
He had a plan.
A horny plan.
Eventually, the date hits October 12th. Logan's been in his cabin for a week now. Currently he's in the middle of the empty room whose flooring is just mattresses. There's a wooden floor underneath obviously but most of the floor is a mattress. Besides the bathroom which is separated by a door opposite of the front door, a kitchen corner that has a classic wooden floor, and a fireplace that is built into a wall but still has enough of a wooden floor in front of it so the mattress wouldn't catch.
It's kind of like a kids dream pillow fort. Other than that the cabin is pretty modern. Obviously paid for by Charles to get it as comfortable as possible.
Logan is sitting in the nest of pillows and blankets. Sweating even though the fire isn't on. He's just staring at a wall. That's until he hears footsteps near his cabin. He doesn't think much of it at first but then he catches a familiar scent. He growls and watches the door hoping that they're not stupid enough to walk in.
Now the cabin is locked yes. But the door is on a password lock. Only Charles and Logan know it. At least that's what Logan thought before the door clicked and opened. And in walked y/n with a big box.
"Morning birthday boy." Y/n grins and closes the door that automatically locks. Logan growls. "What are you doing here Y/L/N."
"Came here to celebrate with my favourite boy." The other mutant said with a smirk and set the box down in front of Logan. "Happy birthday sweaty boy." He joked about Logan's current state.
Now Logan may not look the best. But y/n's isn't complaining. He doesn't mind sweaty body hair and that delicious-looking erection that's standing between Logan's legs. Yes, he's not wearing underwear. He feels like his skin is on fire. Of course, he's not wearing anything.
Logan just watches the other mutant debating if this is a joke or not. Eventually, he reaches for the big box that could fit an old box TV. In the meantime, y/n removes his jacket and looks around the cabin.
Logan looks into the box and sees more boxes, but these are wrapped with birthday-themed wrapping paper. He raised an eyebrow and briefly looked at the other mutant before looking back at the gifts.
He reaches for one of the gifts and rips the paper off. He can feel y/n sit behind him. He's so close Logan can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He also feels that y/n is now shirtless. Logan's hands stopped moving as all of his senses focused on the man pressed against his back.
The other mutant looks over Logan's shoulder. He breathes against his neck and talks in a low murmuring voice "Why aren't you opening it?" Logan shivers at the closeness and feeling of y/n's breath against his neck.
Logan takes a shaky breath and focuses back on the box. Once he fully removed the wrapping paper he used one of his claws to cut the box.
Inside was a handmade leather collar with a loop at the front of it. Logan flushes beet red. His breath hitches as he feels the leather under his fingers. Y/n smirks against Logan's neck. "Open the next one."
The older mutant shakily reaches for another present. He rips off the paper and cuts the box open. Inside is a matching leash. It looks sturdy enough for a good rough tug. Logan's dick twitches at the thought.
Y/n kisses the crook of Logan's neck. Which causes Logan to whimper. But it doesn't sound like a moaning whimper. It sounds like an actual sad dog whimpering.
He reaches for another box wanting to be done already so he can jump on the other mutant's dick. He grabs the present, rips off the paper, and tears the box open. Inside is a dog muzzle.
That's enough for Logan. He pushes the box back and turns around to pounce on y/n. The other mutant laughs and catches Logan. The force of the wolfish man causes them both to fall back on the mattress floor.
Logan whines like a dog as he claims y/n's lips with his own. Y/n caresses his thighs and flips them over. "I take you're happy with your gifts?" He murmured against Logan's lips. The wolfish man whines in response and pulls y/n's face closer.
"Even though you haven't opened the rest of them yet?" He murmured between kisses. Logan huffs. "Just tell me what they are."
"More collars." Y/n hummed and kissed Logan's neck. The wolfish man only shivered and whined. Logan grabbed y/n's head and pulled him into an open kiss. He fought y/n's tongue like an animal.
The other mutant let go of Logan's thigh with one hand and patted around on the floor for the collar. Logan could feel the heat in his body starting to calm down but he still felt like he was on fire because he was being touched by y/n.
Logan suddenly let out a gasp when he felt cold leather wrap around his neck. He looked down and saw the o ring dangling from the front of the collar. He looks up and is met with y/n's hungry eyes. Logan whimpers and squeezes his thighs together.
"Look at you. So beautiful." Y/n murmurs and traces the collar. Logan whines. "Such beautiful sounds. I wonder what sounds you'd make if I..." Y/n's words trail off as he hooks two fingers into the o ring and tugs. Logan gasps and cries out. Those sounds go straight to y/n's groin.
Y/n kisses the collared man and pushes him onto the floor/bed. He reaches for the leash and attaches it to the collar. "Be a good boy for me okay?" Y/n murmured as he kissed down Logan's body. Logan nods.
The other mutant makes his way towards Logan's leaking cock and gives it a kiss. Logan whimpers and bucks his hips up. But y/n pulls back. "Ah ah ah. No moving."
The collared man whimpers and fights the urge to thrust up. So he bites into his hand without much worrying about how hard he's biting. He'll heal. Which he does right after he bites deep into his flesh by accident when he feels y/n's fingers against his hole.
Y/n pushes one lubed finger in which goes in with ease because Logan's wet with slick. As he fingers the whimpering man he kisses and licks his dick. "You taste as delicious as you sound."
Logan whines and thrusts up again. Y/n grumbles and tugs at the leash. The collared man gasps and stops moving. "I said no moving pup," Y/n said as he hovered over Logan. Logan whimpers again.
The other mutant adds a second finger and kisses Logan's neck. The room is filled with whimpers and whines. Each one was louder with each added finger. "Good job pup. Do you think you can ride?" Y/n murmurs as he sits down and pulls Logan into his lap. The collared man nods eagerly and lines up.
Y/n chuckles. "So eager." Y/n teased but let Logan do what he wanted. Logan sank almost instantly the moment he felt the tip enter him. He whines loudly and starts bouncing. The other mutant mons at the instant movement and grabs onto Logan's thighs. "Holly shit pup you're tight."
The collared man whimpers and rests his hands on y/n's shoulders. He bounces and rolls his hips wanting as much friction as possible. Whenever he's in heat it's like he has a constant itch from the inside. And the way y/n's dick is rubbing against his walls it's like the best back scratch anyone could wish for.
Y/n tugged at the leash to pull Logan closer so he could devour his lips. Logan angled his hips in a way that abused his g-spot almost perfectly, and he accidentally bit y/n's lip harshly. Y/n hisses and pulls back. He licks the blood off his lips and his eyes darker with lust.
Logan whimpers out, repeated apologies, but keeps bouncing. The other man growls and reaches for the muzzle. "Bad dog. Who told you you could bite?" That gets Logan to whimper louder. Y/n tugs at the leash. "Stop." He ordered.
Logan whines in protest and keeps bouncing. Y/n shakes his head and tugs again but this time harder. "Don't disobey."
The collared man whines and forces his body to stay still so Y/n can put the cage around his mouth. "Dogs that bite without permission get the muzzle. This is what you get for being a bad puppy." Y/n scolded as he made sure the muzzle is on tight but still comfortable for Logan.
The said man only whimpered in response and looked at y/n with sad puppy eyes and a pouty lip. The other man only shakes his head and leans back on his hands. "Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock."
Logan doesn't hesitate to lift and drop down again. He searched for that angle again. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before his head throws back and his cries fill the room. He's so close, but he doesn't want to cum yet, so he holds back.
Y/n has a tight grip with one hand on Logan's thigh and the other hand tightly holds the leash. The muzzled man looks so beautiful like this.
All deliciously wet and red. He's wet for multiple reasons. Sweat that makes his body hair stick together and his hair stick to his forehead, pre cum that's covering his belly due to his dick smacking against it so much, spit on his lips and chin because he forgot how to close his mouth, and tears running down his cheeks due to his amount of overwhelming emotions.
Y/n groans and watches Logan like he's an angel sent from heaven right for him. "Fuck you're so beautiful like this." He praised. "I imagined beauty but not like this." Y/n shamelessly confesses that he's been dreaming of doing this for a while. Logan whines and scratches at the other man's chest.
Y/n hisses and throws his head back. "Fucking beast." He grunts and digs his nails into Logan's thigh that immediately heals any signs of it.
The muzzled man whimpered. "I want to taste you so bad." He said with a sniffle and looked at y/n begging. The other man smirked and sat up. His nose is against the metal of the cage muzzle. "What was that pup?" He teased.
Logan whines. "Wanna taste you." He sounds so sad. Y/m though only smirks wider and licks one of the rods of the metal cage that's keeping their lips separated. The collared man whimpers and pouts.
"aww. Look at you you gorgeous puppy. I almost want to take this muzzle off." He teased, hooked his fingers through the cage, and tugged him closer. Logan cries out at that. He watches the other mutant with desperation.
Y/n kisses the bars and licks the side of the muzzle until he's able to kiss Logan's cheek. "Next time you behave and you'll get what you want." He let go of the muzzle and leaned back again.
The collared man whimpered but kept bouncing. Y/n runs his hand up Logan's thigh until it reaches the round goods of his ass. "I'm going to stuff you so much you won't be in heat for a year." Y/n grunts and meets Logan's bounces by thrusting up into him.
Logan whimpers. He's so close. "I can't hold it anymore." He cried out and spilled all over his belly. Y/n chuckles and watches how the muzzled man shakes with overstimulation because he's not stopping yet. "Just a little more. I'm almost there." Y/n murmurs and lays Logan on his back so he can rest as Y/n does the work.
Which he doesn't do much because his hips are so fucking sore from Logan's adamantium weight. But he makes work with what he can and chases his climax. Which also doesn't take long.
Without moments y/n spills into Logan and collapses on top of him. They both pant and catch their breath. Eventually y/n rolls off of Logan and onto the comfy mattress floor. He pets Logan's hair and slowly removes the muzzle so they can cuddle easier.
This was a mistake because Logan immediately latched himself onto Y/n's chest and started marking. But y/n is too tired to bother and just caresses the collared man's hair. "Alright pup slow down." He gives a weak chuckle.
Logan whines but stops his marking. For now anyway. Instead he just nuzzles into y/n. He's as close as much as he can and still not satisfied. It's like he wants to be absorbed by y/n he wants to be close to him in ways that aren't possible.
"it's alright pup I'm not leaving you can rest." Y/n said and lazily caressed Logan's hair. The collared man relaxed and lets his body fall into much needed sleep.
chris fucking the silent treatment out of you?! like hello?! need it rnnnnn
SILENT TREATMENT
pairing: dom!chris x latina!reader
summary: you were known to be a bit petty, so giving your boyfriend the silent treatment wasn't out of your comfort zone. chis, however, decides he can't go more than a day without hearing your voice. no matter the way he's hearing it.
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, slight choking, praising, pet names
word count: 978
author's note: might honestly be one of my favorites. class project is all time at the moment though. i hope i did your request justice. don't be afraid to request more 🫶
"really, we're still doing this shit ma?" chris asks, walking into his bathroom as you were doing your skin care. you looked at him, pressing your lips in a thin line before going back to your face. "oh c'mon, i apologized already."
you didn't respond, only continuing to lather your face with a cleanser. chris rolled his eyes, watching you through the mirror. you were supposed to have a small date, nothing too big. he promised since he had been busy recently.
but once again, he had to cancel because he was needed at the warehouse. it was a stupid reason not to be talking to chris. you knew that nick told you that last night. but you didn't care.
chris huffed, "so what, i can't do anything to get you to talk to me again?"
you put down the product in your hand, turning to look at him. chris' face brightened up, expecting a response. but fell again when you pushed past him to grab a rag from the rack.
he shook his head, "so you're gonna keep playing like this? not responding or looking at me." again, no answer. you were going to continue your routine as if he wasn't in the room with you.
"no fucking way," chris said, grabbing you by the wrist and spinning you around. "stop being a brat and talk to me ma, wanna hear that pretty fucking voice," he says, bringing your hand up to his mouth.
he places a kiss on your wrist, keeping his eyes on yours. you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remain unbothered. "really, no words?" he questions. you shake your head, moving your hand back.
"that's okay, i got ways to make you speak," he smirks. next thing you know you were being turned around, and your pajama pants and underwear were being tugged down. your heart dropped, and your legs were pressed together.
chris' hands gripped your hips, pushing you against the sink. "spread for me, ma," he says, slapping the inside of your thigh.
you did as you were told, biting your lip to silence yourself. his hands gripped your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as he stood behind you. one of his hands worked at his sweats while the other pushed your cheek against the cool, marble counter top.
your ass was in the air, and chris was admiring the view. "i know you got a voice in there, so don't hold back on me baby," he says, lining his cock up to your pussy. the tip nudged your clit, causing you to shudder.
one of your arms goes near your mouth, you teeth latching onto the flesh as he pushes himself in, stretching you out. "shit, so fuckin' tight for me," chris grunts, bottoming out. his pelvis was pressed against your ass, his body was leaning over yours.
"don't even need lube for you, huh?" he chuckled mockingly, "always so fucking wet for me," he adds. his hand reaches for your hair, fisting it before yanking your head up.
you gasp at the pain, feeling his tip push further into you. "now, let me hear that voice," he growls, pulling out and slamming back into you. you shake your head the best you can as you bite down on your lips. the familiar metallic taste filling your senses.
"so, that's how it's gonna be," chris chuckles, "okay." his hips begin to pick up the pace, his other hand digging into the skin of your left leg as he lifts it onto the counter. the new angle having him hit a different part of you that hasn't been hit before.
a muffled moan slips through, but chris still caught it. "there she is," he grins, pulling your hair more as his hips slap against your ass. the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours along with the squelch of your pussy fills the room.
his hand that was holding your leg leaves, landing a hard slap on your ass. the sudden sting made you cry out. "sound so pretty," chris praised, "let me hear it all, ma."
with a nod of your head, he begins to pound into you, making your head bounce as he slams his cock into you. your eyes begin to water, the pleasure and pain mixing together. "fuck, fuck so good," you babble, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach.
chris chuckles, "look so pretty, taking my cock like this. think you can take it harder baby?" he asks, and you quickly nod. his grip on your hair loosens, and his other hand grabs your shoulder as his hips begin to snap against yours harder than before.
tears streamed down your cheeks as you cried out, nothing but loud whines and pornographic moans leaving your lips. his grip was sure to leave bruises, and your scalp was throbbing.
the coil was becoming too much, and you felt yourself coming undone. "c-chris," you cry, "i'm cumming, shit i'm cumming." the words left your lips in a babble, your cunt clenching around him. "cum on my dick, baby. fuck yes," he grunts, his hips never faltering.
your body went limp in his hold, you eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open. he fucked you through the orgasm, his own not far behind. a few more thrusts and he was pulling out, stroking his dick as he released on your ass.
your knees buckled, but his arm held you up. "gonna talk to me now, ma?" he breathed, his chest heaving as the two of you caught your breath. you nodded your head, a smile tugging on your lips.
"good, let's go get you cleaned up," he says, spinning around and lifting you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you to the shower.
warnings: mean black!oc, terryau!, oral sex, penetrative sex, and domination/submission dynamics, emotional vulnerability, romantic slow burn, and explicit language!
It was Monday morning, and Aisha was up earlier than she needed to be. Her eyes were puffy from too little sleep and too much highlighting the night before, but her brain was surprisingly alert. The apartment was quiet, the light streaming softly through the sheer curtains in her living room. Her laptop was open, and notes pulled up one last time. Aisha had spent all weekend studying for this damn exam, but the only thing she could think about was Terry Richmond.
Her phone buzzed.
Terry Richmond 💻
Good luck today, Ali.
I know you’re gonna kill it.
You’re brilliant.
And if anyone gives you trouble, tell them I said stand down.
She bit her lip.
It was a simple text. Sweet. Supportive.
But it sat warm in her chest for minutes after she read it.
She stared at the screen, then typed:
Thank you. I needed that 🫶🏽
I’ll text you once I dominate this exam. 😤
…unless you jinx me. Then we’re fighting.
Terry responded almost immediately.
Nah babe, I’m not a good luck charm.
That’s all you.
I’m just the guy cheering from across the hall in sweats.
Aisha laughed quietly, tucking her legs under her at the kitchen island.
Hours later — 2:17 P.M.
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
Just got out. 92%.
Your good luck charm powers are undefeated.
Might need you around for every exam.
What are you doing later, Professor Richmond?
Terry Richmond 💻
Just wrapped a conference call.
Professor though? That’s dangerous talk.
But congrats. I knew you’d ace it.
Proud of you.
What’s on the menu tonight?
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
I’m making garlic herb butter steak with truffle mashed potatoes, asparagus, and maybe a little chocolate or banana pudding for dessert
But let me warn you now: I don’t do mooing meat. I like my steak medium. No blood. Just flavor.
Yours can be pink if you want. But it better not bleed on my plate.
Terry Richmond 💻
Medium rare. Always. I like a little attitude in my meat.
Want me to bring anything?
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
Just your appetite and your manners.
And wear something clean-cut but casual.
I’m not trying to see cargo shorts and a graphic tee from 2011.
Terry Richmond 💻
You tryna dress me up now?
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
I’m making you dinner.
You better look like you know you’re being fed by a fine woman.
Speaking of…
2:48 P.M. — She sends a photo.
Just a little mirror pic—her hair freshly refreshed, curls juicy and soft, edges laid. She’s not fully beat yet, but her skin’s radiant with a warm glow and a touch of lip gloss. The Leopard Print Twisted Asymmetric Maxi Dress from Club London wraps around her body like a second skin—plunging neckline, cinched at the waist, one leg slit high and the hem swirling dramatically.
She's wearing her soft house slippers, with fuzzy straps and gold accents, peeking out from the bottom.
Caption:
Not dressed yet but I figured I’d brighten your workday 😌
Slippers are staying on tho. That’s non-negotiable.
Terry Richmond 💻
Jesus.
Cancel my next two meetings.
You’re trying to kill me before I even taste the steak.
You look beautiful.
And soft.
And like trouble.
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
Only the good kind. 😉
Terry Richmond 💻 — 3:13 P.M.
You didn’t tell me your favorite flowers.
Aisha Ali 🧠🩺
Lilies. Especially white ones. They’re soft but bold.
Kinda like me. Why, you taking notes?
Terry Richmond 💻
Always.
I like knowing what makes you smile.
She paused on that one.
Read it again.
Pressed her lips together, then typed:
I’m smiling now.
6:22 P.M.
The apartment smelled like garlic, thyme, and butter. Aisha moved between the stove and the counter with practiced grace, plating asparagus with tongs in one hand while stirring the mashed potatoes with the other. Her music was playing low—Snoh Aalegra’s "I Want You Around" humming from her Bluetooth speaker.
The table was already set—simple but elegant, with cream linen napkins, matte black plates, and two wine glasses sparkling in the amber glow of her kitchen pendant lights.
She’d lit one candle. Just one. She didn’t want it to feel too heavy. This wasn’t a date. Not technically. But the butterflies in her stomach disagreed.
She checked her dress in the hallway mirror, adjusting the twist just slightly over her hip. Her skin was moisturized, glowing, with a light beat—soft bronzer, a hint of blush, liner, and lashes. Nothing dramatic.
But her eyes?
Her eyes were alive.
Excited. Nervous. Open.
She wiped her hands on a towel and turned back to the kitchen to pull the steaks from the resting plate.
Then—
Knock.
Not loud.
Just steady.
Three times.
She paused.
Checked the time.
6:31 P.M.
Right on time.
She wiped her palms again. Stepped to the door.
Took a breath.
And opened it.
When Aisha opened the door, she expected him to look good—Terry always looked good—but she wasn’t ready for this.
He was wearing a fitted black button-up, sleeves casually rolled to the elbow, tucked into dark jeans that hugged his waist just right. Clean-cut, like she asked, but relaxed enough to remind her he wasn’t trying to prove anything.
He didn’t have to.
His cologne hit first—something warm and masculine with a hint of spice—and then his eyes, blue-green with that hazel swirl, locked onto hers like they were picking up right where they left off.
And in his hands?
A bouquet of white lilies mixed with soft pink and white roses, eucalyptus, and tulips, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a black satin ribbon.
“I heard lilies were your favorite,” he said, lifting them slightly. “Thought the roses might be a little extra, but… couldn’t help it.”
Aisha blinked.
Then smiled.
Wide and soft and almost bashful.
“You remembered.”
“I remember everything you tell me,” he said, voice low and warm.
Her heart did a slow, dangerous somersault.
She took the flowers, letting her fingers graze his. “They’re beautiful.”
He gave her a long look—appreciative, deep, not lingering on her curves or dress like most men would, but watching her face. Watching the way her lips moved, the way her eyes lit up. Memorizing her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply.
Aisha’s breath caught.
She stepped aside, breaking the moment before it consumed her.
“Come in.”
The dinner table was perfectly set, the candles flickering between them as soft jazz played in the background—nothing too slow, nothing too fast. The air smelled like garlic butter and seared meat, and Terry had already complimented the food three times before they even finished their plates.
“This steak might be top three,” he said, leaning back with his wine glass, eyes fixed on her over the rim. “And I’ve eaten steak in five countries.”
“Oh really?” Aisha smirked, sipping her own glass. “Well, this was grass-fed, seasoned with sea salt, thyme, rosemary, and love.”
He raised a brow. “You seasoned it with love?”
“Of course. And maybe a little spite. You did reject me the first time.”
Terry laughed—a full, rich sound that made her toes curl under the table.
“I didn’t reject you,” he said. “I respected you.”
“Felt the same from where I was standing.”
He leaned forward, resting one arm on the table.
“Ali…” he said, voice low and teasing, “if you knew how bad I wanted you that night, you’d never accuse me of rejection again.”
Her breath hitched.
And for a moment, they just looked at each other.
All the jokes and playfulness melted beneath the weight of that silence—the real kind. Heavy with curiosity. Laced with unspoken truths.
“You looked so good,” he added softly. “That blue dress? The way you stood in my doorway like you were daring me to do something about it…”
He shook his head.
“You’ve been in my head ever since.”
Aisha’s pulse raced, but she played it cool.
“I figured,” she said lightly. “You started knocking on my door like you were on salary.”
He smirked. “Had to make sure you saw me.”
“Oh, I saw you. Sweaty, shirtless, thirst trap behavior.”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
She laughed into her wine.
He leaned back again, relaxing into his chair like a man who knew he was right where he was supposed to be.
“So,” she said after a moment, tilting her head, “tell me something you haven’t told me yet. Something I wouldn’t guess.”
Terry raised an eyebrow.
“Like a secret?”
“No,” she said, eyes glittering. “Like a detail. Something real. Something I wouldn’t find on your resume.”
He looked at her for a long time. Not just at her—into her.
“Alright,” he said, setting down his glass. “I used to get panic attacks. After my first deployment. Nobody knew but my cousin, Mike. I’d come home and sit in the dark for hours just trying to breathe.”
Aisha blinked.
The smile faded from her lips, replaced by something deeper.
“I never would’ve guessed that.”
“I know,” he said. “Most people wouldn’t.”
She nodded slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You asked for something real.”
She looked down, toying with her fork. “I don’t let many people in.”
“I know,” he said, voice quiet now. “But I want in.”
Her eyes lifted. Met his.
“Why?”
He leaned forward again, elbows on the table, tone sincere.
“Because you make me feel like I’m on edge and at ease at the same time. Because you’re smart and sharp and a little mean when you’re tired. Because you say you don’t want love but you cook like you’ve been feeding hearts your whole life. And because since the day you stood outside my door in that little nightgown and told me you weren’t scared... I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”
Aisha felt her whole body react—heat creeping up her chest, her legs crossing beneath the table without thinking.
“Terry…”
He shook his head gently. “I’m not trying to rush this. I just want to know you. I want you.”
The room felt hotter.
The candles flickered like they felt it too.
She stood suddenly, collecting their plates. “Okay. Dessert’s up next.”
He didn’t stop her.
Just watched her walk into the kitchen, hips swaying slightly beneath the sleek leopard print, slippers still on her feet like some unfair contradiction.
She returned with two small ramekins of chocolate lava cake, each topped with a tiny scoop of vanilla gelato.
“Okay now I know you’re trying to seduce me,” he said.
She handed him a spoon. “Relax. It’s just chocolate and cream and a little magic.”
He tasted it.
Groaned.
She watched him from across the table, chin resting on her hand.
“I told you.”
Terry pointed at the ramekin. “If this is how you reject men, I’m glad you turned me down last time.”
They both laughed.
And something settled between them.
Later — 9:13 P.M.
The plates were cleared. The wine was almost gone.
They sat on the couch now, closer than they had any right to be, her legs curled under her, his arm draped along the backrest behind her. Not touching—but almost.
The conversation had slowed.
But the energy?
Still pulsing.
“You always look this good after a 12-hour shift?” he murmured.
Aisha smirked, swirling the last bit of wine in her glass. “Only for special guests.”
“You’re gonna kill me in that dress.”
“I’m literally wearing slippers.”
“Even worse.”
She looked up at him, her lashes heavy now.
“Terry…”
He tilted his head.
“What happens after this?”
He met her gaze without flinching.
“Whatever you want.”
She set her glass down.
And for a second, just looked at him.
Her voice, when she spoke again, was soft.
“Stay a little.”
And he nodded.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The city murmured beyond her windows, distant and irrelevant now, like the world had taken a step back and left this room untouched.
Inside, everything was low and warm and intimate. The single candle on her console flickered against the soft cream walls, casting shadows that danced across skin and fabric. The last of the garlic and rosemary still lingered in the air, layered now with the spice of his cologne and the sweetness of her body lotion.
Aisha sat on the couch with her legs folded beneath her, the high slit of her leopard satin dress revealing one smooth thigh that caught the golden light every time she moved. Her bare skin glowed—moisturized, kissed by candlelight, warm from wine and proximity.
Terry sat beside her, close enough that their knees brushed whenever one of them shifted. He had his arm stretched behind her, resting along the back of the couch, and his fingertips grazed the curve of her shoulder once in a while—casual, accidental, electric. His wineglass sat abandoned on the side table, forgotten. He hadn’t touched it since she started talking. Since she leaned in just a little too far while laughing about something minor and meaningless, and his gaze dropped to her mouth like he was imagining what it tasted like.
Aisha’s chest was rising a little faster now.
The room was too quiet.
The tension was too thick.
She was hyperaware of everything—his breathing, the low rasp in his voice, the way he shifted slightly but didn’t pull away when her knee bumped his for the fourth time in as many minutes.
And that song—
Sade’s “Cherish the Day” floated through the air like a whisper. That voice, soft and lush, only made it worse. Or better.
She didn’t know anymore.
She just knew she was buzzing—skin hot, thighs tense, her core throbbing in that slow, needy ache she hadn’t let herself feel in months. Not like this. Not from a look. A touch. A man who hadn’t even kissed her yet tonight.
“Let me ask you something,” she said suddenly, voice lower now, rougher. “You’ve really been putting up with me since August?”
Terry turned to look at her, slow and deliberate. His eyes scanned her face before dropping—just briefly—to her mouth.
“I wouldn’t call it putting up with you.”
“No?”
He shook his head, his voice quiet, velvet over steel.
“I’d call it discipline.”
That word.
Discipline.
It landed somewhere deep.
She tilted her head, her hair falling slightly over one shoulder, brushing the skin just above her breast. His eyes followed it.
“And what exactly required so much discipline?” she asked, playing innocent, though her voice was a little breathless.
He gave a soft, dangerous smile. “You.”
She arched a brow. “Because I was difficult?”
He leaned in slightly, close enough for her to feel his breath. “Because you walked around with that sharp mouth, those soft eyes, and curves that made me want to forget my name—and you didn’t give me the time of day.”
She stared at him, lips parted.
Her breath came slower now. Heavier.
“And you didn’t take that personally?”
“Oh, I did,” he murmured. “But it made me want you more.”
Something in her chest fluttered. She didn’t like it.
She liked control. Distance. The safety of space.
But with him? Her body didn’t care. Her logic didn’t matter.
He made her feel… seen. And hungry.
She bit her lip, just barely.
And his gaze zeroed in on the movement like it was a damn invitation.
She reached for her wineglass again, only to realize her hand was shaking.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
She took a breath, exhaled slowly, and set it back down.
“You’re quiet tonight,” she said.
“I’m trying not to ruin the moment.”
“How would you ruin it?”
He tilted his head. “By pulling you into my lap and kissing you the way I’ve been dreaming about since the day you moved in.”
Aisha blinked.
Just once.
Her thighs pressed together involuntarily.
Her heart pounded so loud, she swore he could hear it.
His voice had dropped lower, darker, but his body hadn’t moved. He was still giving her space. Still waiting. Still letting her set the pace.
It was infuriating.
It was… everything.
She shifted slowly.
Turned toward him, letting her knee slide between his. Her hand rested lightly on his thigh. Just above the knee. Testing. Waiting.
He didn’t flinch.
He did inhale—slow and deep.
“I’m not good at this,” she said softly. “Letting people in. Letting them… see me.”
“I know,” he replied, eyes locked on hers. “You’ve spent the last six months building a fortress. And still—I found the door.”
Aisha swallowed hard.
“I didn’t open it for you.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “I waited. I learned the rhythm of your knock.”
She couldn’t take it anymore.
The honesty.
The heat.
The way her skin burned under his gaze.
So she moved.
She climbed into his lap, straddling him slowly, the silk of her dress dragging across his jeans, the slit falling open to reveal the full length of her thighs. Her arms settled around his shoulders, her fingers curling into the back of his neck. Her chest pressed into his, and she could feel the heat of him everywhere.
His hands stayed planted on her waist.
Still not touching more than he had to.
Not taking.
Not demanding.
Just there.
Solid.
Strong.
Waiting.
Her lips brushed the edge of his jaw, then hovered above his mouth.
Her voice was a whisper.
“You gonna keep waiting?”
And finally—finally—he moved.
His hands gripped her hips, firm and hungry, and he pulled her closer, pressing her down against the hard length of him straining beneath his jeans. His mouth found hers without mercy—hot and deep and claiming. Tongue sliding against hers with a precision that made her knees weak, even while straddling him.
A low sound escaped his throat.
Something primal.
It rumbled into her mouth as he kissed her like the months of restraint had snapped, and now there was no turning back.
His hands slid up her back, over her ribs, and then tangled in her curls—pulling just enough to make her moan. Her hips rolled instinctively, grinding down against him, her dress bunching higher as her thighs opened wider.
“Fuck,” he muttered against her mouth. “You feel so fucking good.”
She gasped as his hand slid down again, gripped her ass, pulled her tighter into his lap.
And when she felt the thick length of him pressed perfectly against her center—right where she ached—she whimpered into his mouth.
“You’ve been teasing me for months,” he growled. “You know that, right?”
Her lips brushed his ear. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
He pulled back—just an inch. Enough to look into her eyes.
And his voice—his voice was low and dark and full of promise.
“I’m gonna make you beg.”
Her breath caught.
And she wanted that.
God, she wanted that.
But she wasn’t giving in that easily.
She kissed him again—slow and deep—and whispered against his mouth:
“Then stop talking.”
Aisha didn’t know when she’d stopped thinking.
Maybe it was when Terry lifted her off the couch like she weighed nothing.
Maybe it was the second his mouth slammed into hers—harder, deeper, like he was finally done pretending he could be patient.
Now?
Now, she was sprawled on her back across the bed, dress hiked around her waist, panties soaked and clinging to her. And Terry?
Terry was standing at the foot of the bed, shirtless, broad chest rising and falling, the line of his abs dipping into the waistband of his jeans.
He hadn’t touched her again.
Not yet.
He was just watching.
His eyes dragged over every inch of her body like he had full ownership now. Like this wasn’t just desire anymore—it was claiming.
“You don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice low and rough, “how close I’ve been to fucking you against that damn front door since August.”
Aisha’s breath caught.
He stepped closer.
“Every time you looked at me like you didn’t see me… every time you rolled your eyes like you weren’t wet five minutes later…”
He reached down, gripped her ankle, and dragged her body slowly toward the edge of the bed.
“You were mine before you even knew it.”
Her thighs parted on instinct, knees falling open, exposing the soaked center of her lace panties. Terry looked down at her like she was his favorite sin.
And then?
He leaned in.
Pressed one palm flat against her chest, right between her breasts, and held her there.
Not rough.
Not cruel.
But commanding.
“You’re gonna listen to me now,” he murmured. “No more running. No more pretending.”
Aisha’s lips parted, breath shivering from her throat.
“Take off the dress,” he said, stepping back.
She blinked.
“W-what?”
His voice hardened. Lower. Final.
“I said. Take. Off. The dress. Or I can rip it. The choice is yours."
Something inside her snapped.
Her hands moved before her brain caught up, slipping behind her back to untwist the knot at her hip, letting the silky fabric slide down over her shoulders, down her waist, over her thighs until it pooled around her hips.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
Her nipples were hard. Her breathing erratic.
Terry’s jaw flexed.
“Panties too,” he added. “Show me everything you’ve been hiding.”
Her hands trembled, but she obeyed—hooked her thumbs in the lace and slid them down, arching her back as she peeled them away.
Now she was laid out for him.
Bare.
Flushed.
Throbbing.
Completely exposed.
His eyes never left her body. They devoured her. Traced her collarbones. Her breasts. Her navel. The wetness glistening between her legs.
“Touch yourself,” he said.
Her eyes flew to his.
“Terry—”
“Do it.”
She hesitated.
And then her hand moved, slowly, between her thighs. Her fingers brushed her clit—just a featherlight stroke—and she moaned.
Terry stepped closer.
“Slower.”
She obeyed.
Swirling soft circles over the sensitive bud, her breath picking up, thighs twitching.
He watched.
And then—finally—he unbuttoned his jeans.
Aisha’s mouth went dry as he pulled them down and kicked them aside. No boxers.
Just him.
Hard.
Thick.
Heavy.
She whimpered.
“You want this?” he asked, fisting the base of his cock slowly. “You ready to take all of me?”
“Please,” she gasped.
“Then stop touching my pussy,” he growled. “And open your legs for me.”
She dropped her hand, moaning softly as he climbed onto the bed—knees pressing into the mattress, body moving over hers with terrifying control.
His hand wrapped gently around her throat, thumb brushing the side of her jaw.
“You’re mine tonight,” he whispered. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathed.
He pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, sliding it through her slick folds once… twice… coating himself with her arousal.
“You gonna take me like a good girl?”
“Yes—please—”
“Say it louder.”
“I’m yours, Terry,” she gasped. “I’m gonna take all of you—please—just—fuck me—”
And then he thrust inside.
Deep.
All the way.
A single, devastating stroke that had her crying out, back arching off the bed.
“Fuuuck,” she sobbed. “Oh my God—”
“Look at me.”
She tried.
Her eyes fluttered open, and he was right there—face inches from hers, chain dragging across her chest, sweat beading on his brow, lips parted as he ground into her with a slow, punishing rhythm.
“You feel what you’ve been making me wait for?”
“Yes,” she whispered, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “It’s too good—”
“It’s mine,” he growled. “This pussy’s mine. Say it.”
“It’s yours—oh God—it’s yours—”
He fucked her slow at first. Cruel. Measured. Holding her legs open with his hands on her knees, watching his cock slide in and out of her dripping core with eyes that burned.
Then he sped up.
Harder.
Faster.
Relentless.
The sound of skin against skin filled the room, her cries echoing against the walls, his low curses grounding her in the madness.
He bent her legs higher, folding her in half, thrusting even deeper.
She screamed.
And he covered her mouth with his, swallowing the sound as he slammed into her again and again and again.
When her orgasm hit, it tore through her like a storm—her nails raking down his back, her entire body locking around him, convulsing with the force of it.
“Let go,” he growled. “That’s it. That’s my good girl—fuck—”
He followed seconds later, hips jerking, jaw clenched, as he came inside her with a long, broken groan against her neck.
They collapsed together, still tangled, breathless, her body trembling under his.
And he didn’t move.
Didn’t pull out.
Just held her there—his hand on her thigh, his chain resting between her breasts, his breath cooling the sweat on her skin.
“I should’ve done that the night you knocked on my door,” he murmured against her temple.
She laughed softly. Shakily.
“I would’ve let you.”
His voice dropped.
“I’m not done.”
Her heart skipped.
He lifted his head, eyes on hers.
“You’re not sleeping until I fuck you against the window,” he said. “I want this whole city to know who you belong to.”
And the way her body clenched around him?
She wanted that too.
Aisha’s breath hitched.
Her legs were still wrapped around his waist. Her body wrecked. Slick. Trembling. But her core clenched at those words—hard, involuntarily—like her body wanted to be taken again before her mind could catch up.
She lifted her head from the pillow, eyes meeting his through the low light.
“You want the city to know?” she whispered, voice hoarse, lips kiss-swollen. “That serious?”
His fingers slid up her thigh, to her waist, gripping tight.
“I want every motherfucker in a ten-block radius to hear you scream my name.”
He kissed her again—hot and punishing—and before she could blink, he was pulling out of her with a hiss, gripping her hips and flipping her over onto her stomach in one smooth, dominant motion.
Aisha gasped.
The cool sheets brushed her breasts as she pushed up on trembling forearms, hair falling into her face.
Terry grabbed her by the hips and dragged her back toward the edge of the bed until she was kneeling, ass arched, legs wide.
“You know how many nights I stood across the hall thinking about this view?” he muttered, dragging his palm slowly over the curve of her ass. “How many times I had to walk back into my apartment and jack off because I could smell you through the goddamn wall?”
She whimpered.
And then he smacked her.
A sharp slap to the left cheek—firm, precise, not cruel—and she moaned like it fed her.
“Say you’re mine,” he growled.
“I’m yours,” she gasped. “I’ve been yours—”
He lined himself up and slid back into her with one deep, brutal thrust that punched the air from her lungs.
“Oh fuck—”
He didn’t ease up.
This time, he was fucking her for the echo.
Every stroke was hard and deep, his hands gripping her hips like reins, slamming into her over and over while her moans turned into cries, turned into gasps, turned into his name—over and over.
“Terry—Terry—oh my God—”
Her hands clawed at the sheets.
He yanked her back against him, his chest flush with her spine now, one arm wrapping around her throat, the other sliding between her thighs again.
“You wanna give them a show?” he rasped in her ear. “Then come on my cock. Right now.”
She shattered.
Convulsed.
Her walls clamped around him, her scream muffled by the arm around her throat, her whole body trembling like it had lost signal.
Terry’s rhythm stuttered—once, twice—and then he came with a low, possessive groan, hips grinding into her as he emptied himself again, deeper this time, staying buried to the hilt.
They stayed like that.
Connected.
Pressed together.
Heavy breathing filling the room like thunder.
And then—his hold on her softened. His hand moved from her throat to her chest, palm splayed over her racing heart.
He kissed the back of her shoulder. Then again. And again.
Soft.
Reverent.
“Breathe,” he murmured.
Aisha collapsed forward slowly, pulling him down with her, his weight anchoring her, his body a furnace at her back. Her arms curled beneath her, her cheek against the pillow, hair wild and damp from sweat.
Terry moved with her.
Shifted so he didn’t crush her, but stayed close.
Close enough to hold her.
To keep her.
His hand never left her body—now sliding slow, lazy circles along her spine while her heartbeat slowly came back to Earth.
They lay like that for minutes.
The world outside returned faintly—cars in the distance, a train horn far off, some idiot honking two streets over—but it didn’t matter.
Here?
It was quiet.
Full.
Real.
She turned her face slightly, voice raw.
“Are you always like this?”
Terry didn’t speak at first.
Just kept tracing her skin with his fingers.
Then: “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to claim every inch of me. Like you already have.”
His hand paused.
Then slid up her side, cupping her breast. Just resting there. Intimate. Warm.
“I’ve waited too long not to.”
She swallowed. “I thought this was just going to be one night.”
“It’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I don’t leave what’s mine.”
The words hit her like heat.
She turned, shifting until she was on her side, facing him.
Terry looked at her now—really looked.
His face was soft, despite the sweat, the edge, the dominance still humming beneath his skin. His blue-green eyes were steady. Sharp.
Honest.
“You think I let myself fall for a woman across the hall just to fuck her once and walk away?” he asked. “You think I let you in just to dip?”
Aisha’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t know what you wanted.”
“I want you,” he said. “Not just your body. Not just your mouth and that smart-ass attitude and that body in scrubs that made me crazy. I want you sleepy in the mornings. I want your bare face and your sarcasm before caffeine. I want to hold you after your worst shifts and fuck you senseless after your best ones.”
Her heart thudded.
And he kept going.
“I want your trust. I want to earn it every damn day.”
She blinked hard.
Her voice cracked when she whispered, “That’s a lot.”
His hand moved to her face. Thumb brushing under her eye.
“You’re worth it.”
She stared at him.
Let herself believe it.
Just for a second.
Then she curled into his chest.
Terry wrapped his arm around her instantly, pulling her in, anchoring her again. His hand found her curls, massaged the back of her head like he already knew how to soothe her.
They didn’t speak for a while.
Not until her voice came out soft.
“Stay.”
“I was never leaving.”
He kissed her forehead. Not gentle this time—firm.
Like he meant it.
She closed her eyes, chest tight, body still pulsing with everything they’d done, everything they’d said.
And everything they hadn’t yet.
But she knew—somehow, quietly, surely—that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Not this time.
Not ever.
The first thing Aisha felt was heat.
Not just the kind soaked into her sheets from the night before—but the weight of another body. Terry’s body.
He was behind her, chest pressed to her back, one heavy arm draped around her waist like he was afraid she might vanish if he didn’t hold on.
And maybe she would have.
On any other morning—after any other man—she would’ve slipped out of bed without a word. Taken her space. Rebuilt the armor.
But she didn’t move.
She just lay there, blinking slowly, watching the morning light spill across the floor in soft gold streaks.
The sheets smelled like him now. Spiced cologne, sweat, and something she was sure was his skin alone. It lingered in her hair, on her pillow. In her bones.
She closed her eyes again, sinking back into his warmth.
“You’re still here,” she said softly, almost to herself.
His voice rumbled low against her shoulder. “Of course I am.”
She smiled.
Just a little.
She shifted, turning slowly until she was facing him. Her bonnet was half-off, curls tangled and mashed from sleep. Her lips were dry. No makeup. No lashes. Just Aisha, stripped down to her barest form.
Terry looked at her like she was radiant.
“Morning,” he said, brushing a curl off her cheek.
Her voice was scratchy. “You sleep okay?”
He nodded. “Better than I have in months.”
She traced the edge of his jaw with one finger. “You snore a little.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“Lies.”
She laughed—a soft, sleepy sound. “I didn’t mind.”
They stayed like that, facing each other, bare and quiet. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t performative.
It just was.
Comfortable.
New.
But not wrong.
Terry finally leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her lips—slow and warm, no fire, just familiarity forming in real time.
“You hungry?” he asked.
She blinked. “You offering to cook again?”
“Only if you like burnt toast and undercooked eggs.”
She smirked. “Pass.”
“I could order something,” he said, voice casual. “Or we could walk to that café two blocks over. The one you pretend not to like but lowkey go to twice a week.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You been watching me that close?”
“Six months,” he said. “You think I missed anything?”
A flush crept into her cheeks.
She sat up slowly, pulling the sheet with her, wrapping it around her chest like armor. “And what happens now?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I stay.”
Aisha paused.
Blinking.
Processing.
“You mean… this morning?”
“I mean from now on.”
Her breath caught.
He sat up beside her, one hand reaching to cradle the back of her neck, thumb brushing her skin. “I know you’ve got your walls. Your grind. Your goals. And I’m not here to mess with any of that.”
His eyes held hers, steady and sure.
“But I’m here, Aisha. Not for a night. Not for convenience. I want to be next to you through all of it—messy or not. Tired or not. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”
Her throat tightened.
She wasn’t good at this. At receiving. At letting someone show up without conditions.
But she believed him.
For maybe the first time, she believed someone meant it.
“…Okay,” she whispered.
Terry smiled, that soft, slow one that melted through all the walls she thought were permanent.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “But no ugly slides in my apartment. House rule.”
He laughed, kissed her again.
“I’ll buy new ones.”
It started simple.
His toothbrush on her counter.
His sweats in her laundry bin.
Her study notes spread across his coffee table now because he said she focused better with his playlist in the background.
They cooked together. Late nights. Early mornings. He walked her to her car after 12-hour shifts. Waited up with matcha when she had exams.
He didn’t just exist with her.
He fit.
He made space.
And slowly… she stopped looking for the exit.
She’d still get tense sometimes. Distant. Defensive.
But he never pushed.
He just waited.
Reminded her—with soft hands, quiet presence, and that unwavering gaze—that he wasn’t going anywhere.
One night, while she was brushing her teeth, she turned to him in the mirror and said:
“You can bring more of your stuff over.”
He paused, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled.
“That an invite?”
“That’s acknowledgment,” she said around her toothbrush.
“You’re getting soft, Ali.”
She rinsed. Smirked.
“You’re the only one I let see it.”
He kissed her on the shoulder.
And from that moment on?
He stopped locking his apartment.
Because home wasn’t across the hall anymore.
It was wherever she was.
AN: as always let me know what you think! if you want to be added to the tag list
taglist:
@keyaho @naughtynolly@rose-bliss @slowlyelectronictyrant
singledad!kyle who found your care profile info because he really did need a babysitter. but your pfp was staggering.
practically love at first pixelated sight.
he doesn't have many dates. not many outings. but for a chance to meet you? anything. so he sends you a message, asking for a saturday evening (even though you only do mon-fri 9-5) the only way he could reel you in was with a big check. that's fine. asks if you can watch them at your place since he's having his date over for dinner.
saturday comes around, his kid's vibing, eating their chunky little fist in the living room when you knock on the door. this man is nervous. im talking quivering breaths, racing pulse. he fumbles with the knob a bit (embarrassing!!!) because of how sweat-slick his hands are.
and you're a sight. soft skin and glossy lips. he'd drop on his knees and lay devotion at your feet (pretty sandaled ones with painted toes he's thinking about having in his mouth later.)
when you greet him with a hello mr.garrick, a needle skids along the grooves of his mind's vinyl. it slams him back down to earth from the heights your pretty, round face alone sent him to.
his eyes narrow slightly. he'd introduced himself as kyle for a reason. the barrier you've erected with this formality he's not gonna let slide. but that's for later.
he walks you with a palm on your lower back that you blessedly don't pull away from past the dinner table laden with roasted meat, a bowl full of vibrant greens, sparkling glasses of wine, and the soft glow of lit candles flickering in the dim light. (sultry. elegant. enticing. you can't drag your eyes away from the picturesque setting. it's like a painting come to life, you mutter. good.)
the babbling baby comes into view when right on cue, his phone goes off. he gestures with a hand to give him a moment and heads toward the kitchen.
"hey, doll," a pause. "oh. i'm sorry to hear tha'. no, don't worry about it, sweetheart. i'd been runnin' late anyway. dinner was barely bein' made."
he's got your attention now. from the corner of his eye, he can see your blurred form, his babe on your hip, looking this way.
"'s alrigh', i swear. don't worry 'bout it. yeah, it's fine. sorry 'bout the dog, yeah?" and pockets his phone.
he puts on the most disappointed expression he can. lush bottom lip caught between his white teeth, glimmering, heavy-lidded brown eyes. brows slightly knit together.
you fall right into his cupped hands.
everythin' alright, mr. err— kyle?
sounds as dreamy as he knew it'd be. "yeah, sweetheart. date canceled. very ill dog. uhm, i'm sorry to 'ave wasted your time comin' over. let me get my wallet and i'll pay you so you can be on your way."
what a waste of food, he murmurs under his breath. (right as he walks past you. your eyes widen, beautiful mouth slightly parting. the hook's caught; snagged right on the inside of your gummy cheek.)
wait. uh.
you really look so pretty with his baby clinging to your arm. "yeah?"
i mean. i'd hate for all of your effort to go to waste. if i'm getting paid anyway, i suppose i could stay over for a little.
he gives you a smile, the smile more like. the ones that he uses to get free drinks at bars and women to suck him off in the restrooms.
"if you're sure. i'd hate to make you feel like you have to."
yeah, you bite your lip. i'm sure.
he coaxes you to indulge in a small glass of wine. cabarnet complements the roast beef exquisitely, see. he'll even pour you a chilled glass of water. but there's an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a gentle heat that blooms like a flower under the sun with just the one glass.
he tells you that maybe you should stick to water for the rest of the dinner but you're adamant that no. you'll be alright, you're a big girl. to deny you would make him a terrible host.
one turns to two. to three. four.
it's close to midnight by the time you're done, dabbing the corners of your mouth with a napkin. he tells you that he'll be right back, have to put the babe in their crib before he walks you out.
(he has no intention of letting you go home.)
you stand by the door, swaying delicately on your feet when he comes back. he corners you, not menacingly but with each step back you take, he takes on forward. "had a wonderful dinner with you tonight. thank you for humoring this old man."
your eyes sparkle, reflecting the soft candlelight at his self-deprecating comment. "you're no such thing, kyle. you're still very much in your prime."
sweet girl. bet you'd taste like honey on his tongue. he leans in to brush his lips on the side of your cheek which you don't pull away from. so he takes his chances. breaths mingle, slightly bitter from the wine. you're looking at him with such warmth that he closes the gap.
when your fingers come to cradle his jaw, he lifts you up and takes you to his bedroom.
he bends you over his knee and spanks you for your insolence. his name is kyle, not mr. garrick. if you're so keen on power dynamics, sir will do. his hand inches ever closer to your clothed sex, until the tips of his fingers strike over it and you come :/
he fucks you at least 4 times that night. you leave in the morning with a belly full of breakfast, love bites peppered all over your neck and a very sore cunt.
what johnny said during the call.
(doll? callin' me bonnie, gaz?)
(what dog? there's a dog? oh no. is simon gettin' a dog?)
