#those are some good fucking parallels!!!!!!!

[forgetful-river]

Darling, it's the end of the world! We've reached the end of our usefulness and now we're doomed, let's waltz into the grave together!

[genericaces]

more rambling about a s5 au: lindsey comes back for a redemption arc to act as legal counsel for angel's team. this ostensibly gives gunn a reason to opt out of the lawyer operation, but he does it anyway because he doesn't trust lindsey not to fuck them over.

lindsey acts as a moral foil to gunn, who comes to believe his necessary contribution to the team (since he's no longer their only lawyer) is being the defender of the group's principles while working at w&h. they frequently butt heads while working on a case, but eventually develop a begrudging respect of each other's respective strengths.

this hostile-to-friendly-rivalry arc is tested when it comes out that w&h was responsible for some demon problem that's been plaguing gunn's home community. gunn has, unbeknownst to himself, been somehow contributing to it while working at w&h; lindsey knowingly contributed to it when he was last working there as a lawyer. lindsey is forced to confront who he was, while gunn is forced to confront who he’s becoming.

since he was involved in the project, lindsey uses his insider knowledge to help come up with a plan to fix the problem. they execute it, something goes wrong, and lindsey risks his life to ensure the plan goes off successfully. he expects congratulations and a pat on the back from gunn, but gunn isn't interested in absolving lindsey's sins (or his own), and their warming relationship freezes over.

at some point, gunn lets himself get taken by the senior partners in an effort to deal with his guilt over various lapses in judgment/perceived moral failures. during their rescue mission to the holding dimension, lindsey stays behind in gunn's place so he can escape, assuring gunn that he's the lawyer the team needs right now. their mutual arcs culminate in lindsey rejecting the idea that redemption is done for recognition, and gunn rejecting the idea that guilt/self-punishment is inherently redemptive.

eventually after being busted out by illyria, lindsey is there to empathize with gunn about losing parts of yourself (body, mind, and/or soul) to w&h, relationships to power when you've grown up without it, and what it means to live with the consequences of your actions. both of them reflect on the nature of redemption/forgiveness/intent as they grapple with how to own up to an appropriate share of the blame.

[imminent-danger-came]

I hate the warrior and hero parallels in lmk /j

They just keep spinning in my head nonstop. And it‘s always the same things; oooh MK‘s attitude is so much like Monkey King. With his desire to protect his friends, sharing his mentors fears, and the way he is prone to slipping into a self-centered mindset at times.

…but wait, his heart is much more similar to Macaque, with him wanting to ideally live a simpler life with his friends with no world ending dangers. Quitting while they‘re ahead. Cleaning up his mentors messes and still forgiving Wukong for literally everything. The closest thing to a complaint he uttered being 'where were you?'

Is there anything that could break Wukong‘s hold over either of them? Apparently not.

And Mei as the warrior, MK‘s closest friend, someone who has fought by his side and believed in him since the very beginning; falling to the wayside in those moments where MK get‘s lost in his head or chases the next thing that grants him more power.

But then her actions are more reminiscent of Monkey King. He fought all his closest friends; Macaque, the brotherhood, and DBK, for the greater good. Mei was willing to kill Wukong with little to no hesitation to stop LBD and save the world. To her, power is only meaningful if it is being used for something, staying idle goes against her ideals.

It‘s like they swapped places somewhere along the way.

So would Mei be willing to fight/kill MK if that’s what it took to protect everyone?

There‘s only two genders: Hero and Warrior. And both of them cause me pain.

I‘ve barely dipped my toes into lmk theoies and story analysis and I‘m already going feral.

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU DEAL WITH THIS MUCH MONKEY BRAINROT???

WELCOME.

The honest answer is that I don't, I don't deal with this much Monkey Brainrot. It's been like this for over 7 months.

And personally, I don't think Mei would willingly fight/kill MK, because MK is one of the main people she wants to protect. Even all the way from 1x04, protecting MK is a main focus of hers:

Mei: "You were gonna eat my best friend! And also these guys!"

-

While crying and screaming at Wukong, one of the main things Mei brings attention to is how he'd put MK in danger:

Mei: "We trusted you! All of us! How could you lead us into the fight without a real plan? Time and time again I've watched you put MK in danger leaving him to figure out EVERYTHING on his own. Don't you realize you're hurting the people who care about you the most?"

(3x10 The Samadhi Fire)

-

Which in itself is a parallel to what she says to Peng:

Mei: "How dare you! My friends are in danger because of you! And you're not even going to stick around to finish the job?"

(4x14 Better than We Found It)

-

So it's definitely an interesting question, if Mei's friends are in danger because of one of those friends, what is she supposed to do?

When it comes down to it, I think MK is the friend she values the most. Obviously she loves everyone with her whole heart, but when it comes to "who would she be more likely to sacrifice" MK is at the very bottom of that list (and Wukong is probably at the top lol).

The decision to leave Mei out of the Yellowtusk "The world isn't worth the price of one friend" conversation was very deliberate, because Mei definitely would pay that price, at least for MK. She's going to do everything she can to avoid having to harm MK, and that may be the wrong decision, or it may be the right one. MK choosing not to abandon Mei in 3x10 is what arguably saved the world from being destroyed by the Samadhi Fire, and that's what they do, they "figure it out, together." But what if that's not an option, or doesn't seem like one?

[infizero]

every time i so much as think about that scene where light looks at porn magazines while scowling i go into hysterics its genuinely the funniest thing i've ever seen

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[aemiron-main]

If you guys thought i was insane for the mike and food analyses just wait until we get to the victor and food analyses. i have so many thoughts all the time

[batfall-a]

*

[butchladymaria]

Sorry for ranting but that post really resonated with me,thank you! it aways seemed so weird how everyone was ignoring these themes and focusing only on what they considered badass about the lore. When playing i could clearly see facets of the suffering that afflicts mainly women on each female character,like the old lady who mistakes you for her kid and gives you sedatives to make you forget,implies that "your fathers blood" is to blame when you atack her and remarks that "you were aways the brave one" when the player has no woes to share... it instantly reminded me of stories from older women about what life was like with abusive husbands and sedatives being prescribed freely due to their stress at home with no way out. Adellas negative levels of self esteem due to church brainwashing (that mirrors Adelines) and the presence of the female rivalry that is instilled in many of us,Ariannas entire questline and the questions it makes the player ask themselves in the end, and finally the doll and Marias whole THING,especially if seen through the lens of a lesbian or GNC woman! like how can people be so blind and not realize how womanhood is a core theme here?? I get disagreeing with individual analysis but to outright deny that there is something there is bonkers to me

okay but seriously, all of these insights are SO important!!! the women of bloodborne are so much more complex than people seem to give them credit for. the old woman and adella especially so clearly have biases. but what really gets me is how realistically those are portrayed: tools of the power structure they were born into which serve to separate and isolate each of them in their subjugation.

this got Insanely long… under the cut it goes!

i mean, seriously though. the women of oedon chapel are very different, each from a different marginalized background of their own. in addition to what you described, the old woman lives in central yharnam — which the church has essentially thrown to the dogs. arianna is a so-called “vileblood” who is forced to the margins of society because of that and her (presumed) identity as a sex worker. adella has been groomed within the church (a word which specifically implies a process beginning in childhood) to see herself as nothing but a worthless vessel for “lowly blood”. these women are all subjugated by the church in different ways, and in an ideal world, they would realize they have much more uniting them than they do separating them.

which is exactly why the church has invented scapegoats to prevent that from happening. the church tells the old woman that it isn’t them who has reduced her home to ruin and likely sent her son to die in the hunt; they tell her it’s foreigners and their tainted blood. the church tells adella it isn’t their fault of that she is treated worse than dirt and has no one to turn to when she is abducted and nearly murdered by a branch of the church itself no less; they tell her she deserves it, because she’s only worth how much she can be bled out for others. they tell her it’s the fault of “vileblood” taint turning the world mad, not their own poisoned healing and insane experiments. i mean seriously — the parallel between arianna’s (implied) “vile” blood and adella’s self-described “lowly” blood is not lost on me.

and arianna, who is wholly innocent yet painfully aware of how isolated she is in that chapel, is left to stumble into a sewer and left with nothing but madness and isolation and the wretched thing she birthed when she is raped by a god and forced to bear its child… and based on how we see the upper ward of the church positively crawling with the exact monsters that she was forced to birth, i’m willing to bet that this is exactly what the church wanted.

bloodborne illustrates how prejudice is ultimately used to subjugate and silence all but the upper echelons of the powerful; and how it is the most vulnerable in society who are left to suffer the worst of it, utterly alone and alienated from their would-be allies. it shows how a class of the oppressed can be so purposefully be driven apart, so their oppressors remain unchallenged. it shows how even those like adella who play a crucial role in their grasp on power are still treated like scum. their oppressors enable, orchestrate, and weaponize the pain these women suffer and force them to bear it all alone.

and as for maria & the doll — again, i COMPLETELY agree. lesbianism aside, maria is undeniably, fundamentally gender nonconforming, especially when compared to the other NPC women. the relationship between her and gerhman is something i plan to go more in depth on in a later post — but i will say that i actually see gerhman as more of a paternal/protective figure. that is to say: i think gerhman in the text represents the gender role of men as a protector of women taken to its natural conclusion; not as a role made for service or assistance, but rather for ownership of the woman under protection. he’s an incredibly tragic and twisted man. i want to poke him like bug under microscope etc.

i am so glad my post resonated with you!!! these are honestly the kinds of conversations i want to have with other fans — because they’re so damn INTERESTING to me to pick apart!!!

tl;dr: The Girls Should Unionize.

[asena-queenslayer]

I AM BACK

ON MY ANASTASIA BULLSHIT

[gas-stxtion]

@oceanoecielo said: 67, for the loaded character questions, for jerry!

[loaded questions - open!]

67. What is one thing people always get wrong about you?

Jerry smiles good-naturedly as he considers the question, cigarette perched between two fingers. "Well, I'd say people don't usually get things wrong about me most of the time--I mean, I try to be a pretty open book usually." It's a pretty obvious lie, and it's not even one he makes much of an effort to hide.

At first, he seems content to leave it at that, but he reconsiders rather quickly as his expression grows more serious.

"If I had to pick one thing," he muses, "it'd be that a lot of people seem to think I'm harmless." His smile returns, a little sharper this time, as he takes a drag from his cigarette, and it remains firmly in place as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. The whole time, he doesn't take his eyes off the person he's talking to.

"Y'see," Jerry says, "I'm pretty stupid, and I know that. I'm not gonna pretend to be something I'm not. But I'll admit that I play it up a bit sometimes to let people think I'm too stupid to be a threat. 'Cause they almost always do--people don't usually take me seriously or recognize that, if I really wanted to, I could wreck their fucking shit."

Just as quickly as it arrived, the eerie seriousness in Jerry's tone vanishes and his grin is as goofy as it was before.

"Either that," he says, "or they assume I'm just high all the time. Which, y'know, isn't totally wrong because I do do a lot of drugs. But I don't do them at work! At least, not most of the time."

[falinscloaca]

shoutouts to tumblr being kinda normal about homestuck for a while until that poll thing happened

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

analyzing some images (for fun)

so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)

everything under the cut !

unique traits

aziraphale:

1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm

2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr

3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)

4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.

5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

crowley:

1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧

2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3

3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT

4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it

5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞

6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH

similarities

mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….

1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos

2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….

3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….

4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever

5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃

6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,

okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 01

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

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

ღ wc 13.1 k

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

ღ author's note so exited to start this series!! dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world !! ♡ (fanart in the header)

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

"Who's that?"

Every gaze in the room turned towards you.

"She's my student—," Dr. Geto responded, a trace of amusement twisting his lip. He didn't have to follow Dr. Gojo's stare to know its target. "—a first-year medical student."

A murmur rippled through the group of students, their eyes stinging like needles in your neck. You were acutely aware of your position—the youngest, the least experienced, an outsider among those who had studied for years.

"What?" Gojo's voice sliced through the air. He turned his scrutinizing gaze towards Geto. "You brought a fucking first-year into my operating room?"

Ouch.

Geto chuckled. "Relax, Satoru. She's good."

Gojo's expression tightened. He turned back to you, those unnervingly bright blue eyes raking over you from behind his surgical glasses. It made your skin crawl. "You, first-year. Bypass, endovascular, or direct microsurgical approach?"

The air in the operating room was thick.

Dr. Geto and Dr. Gojo had been circling the issue for at least half an hour, dissecting strategies as if the patient weren't laid skull open before them, the aneurysm a ticking time bomb in the patient's brain.

None of the students dared to move, too terrified to even breathe. It was a test. But hesitation wasn't in your vocabulary.

"You should do a hybrid approach. Start with endovascular coiling to reduce the risk of rupture. Parallel prep for a bypass, using intraoperative Doppler for flow assessment. Stabilize, then microsurgical clipping. Definitive closure."

Silence filled the room. Somehow the eyes of the other students stinging even more now. Your boldness given such a complex situation was either brilliance or audacity—perhaps both.

Geto's laughter broke the tension. "I might've forgotten to mention—she's my best student."

Gojo's gaze lingered on you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "That's some complex shit you suggest. The endovascular coiling has to be precise to reduce the risk of aneurysm rupture, and then we switch to microsurgery in an already compromised field."

"Complex, yes, but you have no other choice. The endovascular phase provides stabilization, making the surgical field less treacherous for clipping," you countered.

"And the risk of thrombosis?" Gojo pressed.

"Could happen."

"Could happen?" Gojo repeated. "That's your statement on that?"

"It's either the hybrid approach, or the patient is dead anyway," you said, maintaining his unyielding gaze.

"Is this woman serious?" Gojo murmured, almost inaudibly. His gaze shifted to Geto, seeking perhaps a silent judgment or agreement. Geto, following the exchange with an unreadable smile, seemed more amused than concerned.

"So?" Geto prompted.

Gojo's gaze snapped back to you, his eyes raking over you as if searching for a flaw in your logic. His silence stretched taut between you, a wordless evaluation. Finally, the verdict, "Let's proceed with the hybrid approach."

You exhaled sharply, only then realizing you'd been holding your breath.

A flurry of activity erupted as the nurses prepared for the surgery you'd proposed. You watched closely as the surgeons moved with practiced precision around the patient's exposed brain tissue—both undoubtedly the best neurosurgeons in the country.

"Your name," Dr. Gojo demanded, his focus still on the task at hand. "What is it?"

You gave your name in response.

He repeated your name, as if testing how the name felt. "Do you always approach problems with such boldness?"

"If the situation demands it."

Something in his masked face shifted, a subtle expression that might have been a smile. Whatever it was, it seemed out of place.

"Interesting."

─── ·✧· ───

The corridors of Tokyo Medical University were bustling with life, echoing the footsteps and chatter of students. Lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces, you stood somewhat disoriented in front of the map of the University. Finding your way to your anatomy class felt like an impossible task, especially with less than four minutes on the clock.

It was your first day.

And already the middle of the semester.

Definitely not a good start to come late.

The university you used to attend was half this size, and somehow you already missed it. But who would turn down the opportunity to study at the country's most prestigious medical university? Especially with the chance to learn from the most renowned neurosurgeons teaching there?

So here you were.

Two minutes left.

All of a sudden, someone ran into you, causing you to fall to the ground.

"Whoa, sorry! I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see a guy with tousled black hair and noticeable dark circles under his eyes. He quickly extended a hand to help you up. "Are you okay?"

Brushing off your clothes, you nodded and accepted his hand, feeling a surprising strength as he easily pulled you back to your feet.

"You new here?" he asked, studying your face. "You seem a bit lost."

The subtle irony in his comment almost coaxed a smile out of you, especially considering his own worn-out look. "Yeah, it's my first day, and I'm already running late. I'm trying to find Dr. Ieiri's anatomy class."

"No way, that's my class too! Come on, I'll show you, but we need to make it quick," he responded, already moving ahead with a sense of urgency. You hastened to keep pace with his swift strides.

"I'm Yuta Okkotsu, by the way," he introduced himself as you weaved through the bustling corridors. "So, what's the story behind your mid-semester transfer?"

"I was at a different medical school, but then got this offer to transfer here."

Yuta's eyes widened slightly. "An offer to transfer? That's pretty impressive. You must be quite talented."

"I'm not so sure about that, I think I just got lucky."

Yuta led the way through the bustling corridors, his familiarity with the campus evident in every confident turn he took. Finally, you arrived at the large doors of the auditorium where Dr. Ieiri's anatomy class was supposed to be held. Pushing the doors open, you both slipped inside, but there was no sign of the professor yet.

"Made it," Yuta gasped, a grin spreading across his face despite the shortness of breath. "With, uh, time to spare!" He glanced at his watch. "Okay, maybe not."

Yuta, still catching his breath, gestured towards a group sitting near the back. "Come on, you can sit with us. My friends are cool, I promise."

As you followed, you noticed a girl with striking green hair. She was leafing through a thick textbook with an expression that suggested she found the content less than challenging. "That's Maki," Yuta whispered to you. "Don't let her scare you—she's actually really nice."

Maki looked up as you approached. "New student?"

"Transfer student actually," Yuta corrected. "Is Inumaki also running late?"

Before Maki could respond, the doors swung open. But instead of Dr. Ieiri, Dr. Satoru Gojo stepped in, his presence as commanding as when you first saw him.

No way.

The room fell into an instant hush. Dr. Gojo sauntered to the front of the auditorium, his silver hair gleaming in the gentle sun.

"Good morning, class," he began, his voice effortlessly filling the hall. "Dr. Ieiri is unavailable today, so I'll be taking you through the nervous system."

He scribbled his name on the board, one hand nonchalantly tucked into his trouser pocket. Turning back to face the class, he rolled up his sleeves, his captivating blue eyes even more striking without the barrier of surgical glasses.

As his gaze swept across the students, it abruptly landed on you. For a split second, his confident demeanor wavered, replaced by a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"The first-year?"

Following his gaze, all heads turned towards you—dozens of stabbing eyes.

Fantastic, center stage yet again.

You locked eyes with Gojo for a heartbeat, maybe a minute, maybe a year. Heat spread all over your skin. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but then he cleared his throat and regained his professional poise.

"As I was saying," he turned his attention back to the class, "—since Dr. Ieiri isn't here, we'll dive deeper into the nervous system. So listen well."

His eyes met yours one more time before he launched into the lecture.

─── ·✧· ───

As the lecture came to an end, the students began to gather their belongings. You also began to pack up your notes, still processing the intense lecture Dr. Gojo had just given. It was clear—he was not a professor who took it easy on his students.

"Should we grab a bite? We've got a few minutes before the next class," Yuta suggested, glancing at both you and Maki as you made your way towards the exit. But just as you were about to step out, Dr. Gojo's voice halted you in your tracks.

"Not you, first-year."

The remaining students cast curious glances your way as they continued to file out of the auditorium. Yuta paused, his gaze shifting between you and Dr. Gojo.

"I'll catch up later," you said to him. He nodded before disappearing with the last of the students.

Turning back, you found Dr. Gojo leaning nonchalantly against his desk with his arms crossed. His intense gaze was focused on you. The room quickly emptied, leaving only the two of you.

"I'm curious, what brings a first-year into an operating room?" he finally broke the silence.

"Dr. Geto invited me to observe."

"Dr. Geto?" he echoed, pushing himself off from the desk and taking a few steps closer. "How did you come to know him?"

"He invited me to transfer here," you explained. "He's overseeing a research project that I'm a part of."

"You what? You mean you're working with him on the neuroprosthetics?"

"Yes," you simply said.

He paused for a moment, then let out a chuff before taking a few deliberate steps closer. "Tell me, what did it take for you to get into this university? To become part of Suguru's team as a mere first-year student?"

Your brows furrowed slightly. "Are you insinuating something, Dr. Gojo?"

His lips curled into a half-smile, his approach halting just a breath away from you. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of suggesting anything untoward, like a student getting ahead by... unconventional means. That'd be highly inappropriate, wouldn't it?"

The air around you seemed to thicken as he loomed closer, his tall frame nearly casting a shadow over you against the backdrop of the window.

"I didn't know you were even Suguru's type," he continued.

Was he for real?

He knew nothing. 

Nothing about the countless hours you'd poured into your studies. Nothing about the sleepless nights spent devouring research papers. Nothing about the relentless drive that had earned you recognition in the scientific community despite your young age. And here he was, accusing you of fucking your way up the ladder.

"Why? Are you jealous?" The words slipped out before you could think.

Gojo's eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched. "I can see why Suguru took an interest."

The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, yet you found yourself unable to look away. It was as if he was trying to read your very thoughts, peeling back layers with nothing but his piercing blue eyes.

For a moment, his gaze drifted downward, lingering on your lips. Your pulse quickened, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Too bad, I'm on the neuroprosthetics team too," he remarked. "We'll be seeing quite a bit of each other, it seems."

Suddenly, he stepped back, breaking the intensity of the moment. "Make sure you live up to the expectations, first-year. I won't go easy on you just because you're a rookie."

With those final words, he turned away, leaving you standing in the midst of the empty auditorium, your mind racing.

Was he for real real?

─── ·✧· ───

"Ugh, I hate that guy!"

Geto looked up from his desk, a single eyebrow raised in response to your dramatic entrance into his office. "That guy?"

"I mean Dr. Gojo," you clarified, pacing the room. "I can't keep up with his arrogance."

He leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a calm, measured gaze. "He's not as bad as you think. You just need to get to know him better."

Know him better?

Yeah, that was the least you wanted to do.

"He just accused me of sleeping with you to get into this university!"

The words tumbled out of your mouth, more bluntly than you intended. Your relationship with Geto had always been somewhat informal, feeling more like a friendship. But this level of frankness was a step further than usual. But the anger and frustration boiling inside you made it impossible to hold back.

Geto couldn't suppress a laugh. "Sounds like something he would say," he mused, interlacing his fingers behind his head.

You stopped pacing the room and turned to face him. "Ha?"

"Listen," Geto began. "Gojo is a good man. He's always worked hard, so it might be a little irritating for him to see someone new get the recognition he's worked for years to get."

"But I've worked hard too," you countered.

"I know," Geto leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "That's why I invited you here, to be part of my research team. He'll see your potential sooner or later." A warm smile played on his lips.

"So I just have to wait for his approval?"

"It looks like it," Geto shrugged.

Great.

"Besides we need him on this project, so it's best if you two find a way to get along. You'll learn a lot working with Gojo," he added.

You sighed. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Gojo is not easily impressed. But I have a feeling that you made quite an impression on him with your boldness in the operating room the other day. Not many students would suggest such an approach as you did."

"Is that a compliment?"

"You can take it as one, yes," he replied with a chuckle. He then stood up and began packing his bag. "Oh, and also, we're starting work on the project tomorrow, right after your last class."

Fantastic.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes," he confirmed, nodding. "I think it's best we dive right in. Gojo will be there too, of course. It'll be a good opportunity for both of you to start fresh." His smile widened, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You couldn't help but feel he was somewhat enjoying the situation.

─── ·✧· ───

The air was filled with the sterile scent of preservatives.

Anatomy class was in full swing, the only sound being the quiet murmur of focused students. You stood at your desk next to Yuta, Maki, and Toge, each of you meticulously dissecting and examining organs under the microscope. But your mind was elsewhere, lost in a blur of thoughts about the research project starting later that day.

As you sliced an organ in half with a practiced hand, your gaze drifted unfocused, the image under the microscope blurring. A wave of nausea washed over you. Perhaps it was the onset of the flu, or perhaps it was a convenient excuse to avoid facing Gojo later.

"Hey, you okay?" Yuta's voice pulled you back to the present. You realized you had been staring blankly at the tissue sample for longer than necessary. 

"Yeah, just thinking about the project later."

Maki glanced over, her eyes sharp behind her safety glasses. "With Dr. Gojo, right? That's going to be—interesting."

You paused. "What do you mean?"

"Dr. Gojo, well, he's notorious for being an ass," Maki said, her focus still on her own dissection. "He's undeniably a genius, but he's also—brutal. He has a way of pushing students to their limits, often too far."

Fantastic. 

Just what you needed to hear.

Your stomach churned. "I had a feeling about that."

"His standards are high, and he's not exactly gentle in his criticism. If you don't meet his expectations, he'll let you know, and not kindly," she continued. "He's made more than a few students question their life choices."

"Yeah, I've heard similar stories. You either meet his expectations or you're pretty much done," Yuta added.

The thought of working with Dr. Gojo was getting more fun by the minute. 

Maybe you should call in sick.

Toge contributed his one-word insight, "God complex," which seemed to perfectly sum up the mood of the conversation about Dr. Gojo.

"But—," Maki interjected, finally looking up, "—he's still the best in his field. If you can handle the pressure, he's undoubtedly the one to learn from."

Yeah, but what was the price for that?

You let out a tired sigh. 

Returning to your task, you carefully aligned the organ under the microscope. Gojo was intimidating, no doubt, but you had worked your ass off to reach this point. You weren't going to back down just because he was a dick. After all, Geto was also working on the project, so how bad could it possibly be then?

You glanced up from the microscope to adjust its focus. However, you couldn't help but notice Yuta. He glanced at Maki over his microscope with this look—that certain look.

Interesting.

─── ·✧· ─── 

"Your idea is just ridiculous!"

"Oh really? Yours is just shit!"

You didn't know how it ended up like this. It was barely two minutes into the discussion about a critical aspect of the research project, and here you were, shouting at each other. The entire lab had gone silent, all eyes glued to the heated exchange. Geto, leaning against a counter, watched the scene unfold with an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Your approach could compromise the entire neural interface integration," you argued. "It's too aggressive and doesn't take into account the potential for neural tissue damage."

Gojo was standing so close, that you could see the flecks of color in his eyes, feel the heat radiating off him. And could probably spit in his face.

Maybe you should do that.

His approach was risky—dangerous even. How could he not see that? 

"It's necessary," Gojo countered. "—playing it safe doesn't always work."

Yeah, you know that. But not in this case, not with this patient. It was borderline reckless.

"There's a fine line between a breakthrough and recklessness," you shot back.

"You're so naive," he retorted, stepping even closer. "You don't understand when it's time to take some risks."

You stared at him. "Taking risks? No, you're just being insane!"

"You—" he started but Geto quickly intervened. 

"Alright, that's enough for now," he said, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, physically creating space between you and Gojo. "Let's take a break."

But Gojo's eyes never left yours, unbroken even as Geto gently shoved him backwards. You stood there, your breath ragged, your heart racing. Around you, the lab slowly came back to life as the others resumed their tasks, occasionally stealing glances in your direction.

"Could you get us some coffee?" Geto asked, pressing a few bills into your hand.

Yeah. Sure.

You nodded. The unexpected surge of adrenaline that had coursed through your veins didn't leave you needing caffeine, but hell, you took anything that would get you away from him. As you made your way out of the lab, you could still feel his gaze on you.

Taking your time, you wandered to the cafeteria. Okay, maybe you just didn't find the way. But you didn't really care. The university was already empty at this hour. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.

By the time you returned to the lab, the coffee had grown cold in your hands. Geto immediately perked up at your return, pushing himself away from his desk and walking over to you. "Ah, great," he said with a smile, taking a cup from your hands. "Thanks."

Your gaze shifted to Gojo, who hadn't moved an inch, his attention seemingly absorbed by the computer screen in front of him. Without a word, you placed his cup on his desk.

The rest of the evening was a blur of lab work, discussions, and planning.

You were focused on analyzing a blood sample to identify specific markers and genetic predispositions to determine if a patient was eligible for research. Normally an easy task, but your concentration began to waver.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was well past midnight. The lab was quiet, most of the equipment was turned off, and the only light was the dim glow of a few workstations. Geto had left some time ago, urging you to do the same, but you stayed. It would take longer to continue your work tomorrow than to finish it now.

However, each test you ran seemed to produce inconclusive or erratic results. You rechecked the protocols, ran the tests again, but the results were still the same. Exhaustion was clouding your judgment, leading you to make mistakes you wouldn't normally make.

After yet another failed attempt, you let out a sigh and rubbed your tired eyes.

How was this so fucking hard all of a sudden?

"Let me help you," said a voice from behind you. It was Gojo. You thought he had already left, or maybe you were just so focused on your own task. You felt his presence close behind you as he leaned in to examine the blood sample results on the screen.

"See here," he said, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He reached around you to steer the controls, his arms encircling you. Your skin heated. "The centrifugation speed and time must be precisely calibrated. It affects the separation of cellular components, which is critical for accurate marker identification."

You nodded slightly, even though you already knew that. Somehow, you were now a bit ashamed of your own sudden stupidity. As the sample was prepared and placed for analysis, his presence remained close, his body heat and the soft cadence of his breathing a constant distraction. The results started to display on the screen, this time showing the definitive patterns you had been seeking.

"No need to thank me," Gojo said, straightening up—giving you some much-needed air to breathe. "You should go home, it's late."

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Yeah, you should really go home.

As Gojo moved towards the door, he paused briefly, his hand resting on the handle. "Burning out won't do you, or the project, any good."

You watched him for a moment. Somehow, in the dim light, his features softened the usually sharp lines of his face. "Are you concerned?"

"Concerned that you mess this project up," he said with a grin on his lips.

You let out a tired sigh. "Of course."

─── ·✧· ─── 

Another day. Another fight.

The tension in the lab was palpable as you and Gojo stood across from each other. The issue had resurfaced. So had the friction between your methods. Your opposing views seemed like an insurmountable chasm.

"You're not considering the long-term implications of your approach," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration. "We need to think about patient recovery, not just the immediate results."

"The primary goal is to ensure the success of the procedure. Your 'cautious' tactics might compromise the project's objectives," Gojo retorted.

You bristled at his words. "It's not about being cautious—it's about being thorough and responsible. We can't afford to overlook potential complications."

The debate intensified, each point you made met with a sharp rebuttal from Gojo. As the argument escalated, he took a step closer, his blue eyes locked on yours. "Your method will not work, first-year. Playing it safe will kill this patient."

His proximity was overwhelming, and for a moment, you lost your train of thought, caught up in the intensity of his gaze. "My method will keep him alive," you managed to say, trying to regain your composure.

Before he could respond, you glanced at the clock on the wall and realized with a start that you were late for your class. "I have to go," you said abruptly, the urgency of the situation breaking the tension.

"We're not done with this discussion," Gojo snapped.

"Yeah, whatever," you said as you hurried out of the lab and rushed to your class. 

Gojo let out a low hiss under his breath. As you left the lab, Geto approached him, his expression serious despite the hint of a smile on his lips. Some might say he looked scary.

"Satoru," Geto began. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Gojo turned, his posture stiffening. "About what?"

Geto crossed his arms, leaning back against a lab table. "Could you please stop pissing off my precious student?"

"Ha?" he said, raking a hand through his hair. "Are you seriously siding with her?"

"I am," Geto confirmed. "I wanted her on this project because she and I are on the same page."

"Of course you are."

"Satoru, I don't want to throw you off this project, so please try to find a middle ground with her. Give her a chance."

Gojo exhaled sharply, the lines on his face softening slightly. "Your approach is too cautious. It won't work."

Geto maintained his calm demeanor. "We'll see."

"Fine," Gojo finally conceded. "I'll try to—work with her. On one condition."

"And what's that?" Geto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We do it my way if your approach doesn't work," Gojo said.

"Fair enough."

Gojo looked away, his gaze settling on the empty space where you had stood moments before. There was a brief pause, his mind racing.

"Suguru, what exactly do you see in her?" Gojo asked after a while.

"Hm?" Geto looked at Gojo thoughtfully. "She has potential, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, potential," Gojo echoed, his voice trailing off slightly.

Geto tilted his head.

─── ·✧· ───

The sun streamed through the windows of the anatomy classroom, casting a warm glow across the rows of desks. Despite the bright light, your eyelids felt heavy, the endless fights with Gojo replaying in your mind and robbing you of much-needed energy.

You sat beside Yuta, Maki, and Toge, struggling to focus on the lecturer's words. 

"Rough day?" Yuta whispered.

You propped your head up with one hand, blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to clear the fog of fatigue. "More like a rough week."

"You look like shit," Maki remarked.

"Thanks."

As the lecturer continued discussing the intricacies of human anatomy, your thoughts drifted back to Gojo. Despite all the arguments you had with him, all you could think about was the memory of his intense gaze, his closeness, his soft voice, even his scent. It made it impossible to concentrate on the lecture.

Yuta nudged you gently when you almost nodded off, your head dipping forward. "You really should get some rest after this."

Suddenly, an announcement woke you up in an instant.

"Now we'll do a quick test." Dr. Ieiri announced. "It's crucial for your upcoming exams."

A collective groan echoed through the class. You froze, your heart sinking. A test was the last thing you needed right now.

Yuta turned to you. "You got this," he said, trying to offer some encouragement.

You weren't so sure. 

As the test papers were distributed, you stared blankly at the questions. Your mind, usually sharp and focused during exams, felt sluggish and unresponsive. One by one, you read through the questions, trying to recall the knowledge you knew was hopefully buried somewhere in your tired brain.

Fuck.

It was all questions about something like skin, bones and that shit. You could recall every little detail about the brain, but bones? Fuck, you really should have paid attention in that class.

Panic set in as you realized that you might actually fail this test.

─── ·✧· ───  

1:07 AM.

You were still wide awake.

Tossing and turning, you found sleep elusive. Everything that had happened lately was replaying in your mind. You had barely been in Tokyo for a few weeks and your life was already so different. You barely had time to fix up your apartment, the moving boxes still there, waiting to be opened. And then the anatomy test—

You needed a distraction, something to focus on that wasn't your own disappointment.

So you decided to head back to the university lab. Maybe immersing yourself in work would help clear your head. The quiet, empty streets at this hour were oddly comforting as you drove to the campus. Upon arriving at the lab, you were surprised to see the lights already on. You pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space.

No way.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, unable to hide your surprise.

Gojo hunched over a microscope, deeply engrossed in his work. He looked up, his expression one of mild annoyance. "I could ask you the same," he replied.

Nice.

Even in the lab, it seemed you couldn't escape his presence. He was always there, haunting both your mind and your reality.

"You shouldn't work so late. You're still a student," Gojo remarked.

You glanced at him. "Yeah, you've already told me that. But I want this project to work just as much as you."

Gojo looked your way, his striking blue eyes catching the dim lab light. "Don't you ever take a break? Go out? Maybe party or so?"

You observed him for a moment. His hair was disheveled, giving him a more relaxed, approachable look than usual. "I'm not really into the party scene," you admitted.

"I guessed as much," he responded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he returned his focus back to his work.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, somewhat hurt.

"It's not a criticism, just an observation."

Setting up at a nearby workstation, you began reviewing some data on a patient you were about to perform surgery on. He was the first to receive a transplant directly into his cerebral cortex, hoping to bypass the damaged spinal cord and allow direct brain control of a prosthetic limb.

It was the first time such an operation had ever been performed. And Geto would be the one to do the surgery. Gojo would have normally, but he refused. He was still convinced it was the wrong approach. Even though all the data showed otherwise.

Sipping from your coffee, you glanced over at Gojo, finding a strange comfort in his presence. He worked with a focus and intensity that was almost mesmerizing.

3:23 AM. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids as you completed the final analysis. Now all you had to do was wait for the results. You rested your head on your hand, sinking lower and lower until your head touched the cool surface of the desk. Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt.

Time passed unnoticed until a gentle touch caressed your cheek. It jolted you from sleep. You flinched slightly, your eyes fluttering open. Your gaze slowly traveled up, finally locking with Gojo's eyes. He stood beside you, his thumb lingering just a moment longer on your skin, stroking lightly over your cheek.

"You hungry?"

You straightened up, pulling back a little. Suddenly conscious of the close proximity. A warm flush spread across your cheeks.

Gojo pulled up a chair, turned it backwards and faced you. He unwrapped a small meal he had brought from a nearby bakery, the scent of fresh pastries filling the air. 

There was a casual ease to his movements. Like everything he did. Whether he was slicing through a brain or just existing. He always seemed so unbothered. As if he knew he would never fail at anything anyway.

Blinking tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering veil of sleep. As you moved, a jacket slipped from your shoulders. His jacket. He must have draped it over your shoulders while you slept. It smelled like him.

"Keep it," he said before you could part your lips. "The body cools down after sleep."

"Always the doctor, aren't you?" you replied with a hint of a smile, pulling the jacket back around your shoulders. "Thank you."

Reaching for the pastry he had brought, you became acutely aware of his gaze. The intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

"Tell me something about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" you asked, taking a bite of the pastry.

"Everything."

You chuckled. "That would take a while."

"I've got time."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling his gaze still intently on you.

"Tell me how Suguru found you," he continued.

"Back in my hometown, I was already in medical university, working on a research project about a specific type of brain tumor called glioblastoma multiforme. My mentor at the time encouraged me to publish a paper on my findings. It seems that Geto stumbled upon my work. That's how I ended up here."

"Impressive," he said. "Why this specific type of brain tumor?"

A lump formed in your throat. "Because my father died of it."

Gojo paused, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"My father was a neurosurgeon, too. I practically grew up in operating rooms," you continued.

"Why did he die?"

The directness of his question caught you slightly off guard. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. 

"The tumor was too aggressive. The surgery was useless, he knew that, but he wanted it anyway. They tried a radical surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible while preserving vital brain function. But it failed. My father was just dead meat breathing after the surgery. My mother never got over that loss. I think she lost her mind."

The gruesome edge of your words surprised him, his eyes widening slightly. You looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with Gojo as his stupidly handsome blue eyes seemed to pierce your soul.

Silence stretched between you two.

"I'm sorry," Gojo said eventually.

"It's okay. He's long gone," your eyes lingered on the pastry. "It's what drove me to neurology," you continued, gathering the courage to look up at him. "I wanted to contribute to something that might change outcomes for people like my father."

"Is that why you want to go for the safe approach with the patient in our neuroprosthetics project?"

You thought about it. But it wouldn't help to lie anyway. "Yeah, that's probably it."

Gojo ran his fingers through his hair, releasing a weary exhale.

"Tell me about you now," you said, changing the subject.

He paused, then offered a brief, wry smile. "Not married, no girlfriend, no kids."

"That's not really what I meant."

"Sure?" he teased, the corners of his mouth turning up in a playful smile.

"Why not?" you asked him. This was indeed interesting. He was handsome. Tall. Barely in his thirties. A famous neurosurgeon. He was basically the whole package. Except—

"No time, I guess," he said.

"What a lame excuse," you retorted, leaning back in your chair. You stretched your arms above your head, trying to relieve the tension that had built up in your muscles. A slight smile lingered on your lips as you added, "I guess you're just too much ego for any woman to handle."

"Oh, sweetheart," Gojo replied, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a natural ease. "I suspect you have just as much ego as me."

Suddenly, Gojo stood up and closed the distance between you. You remained seated, looking up at him, your heart rate quickening. For a moment, he just stood there, looking down at you. The intensity in his gaze was palpable, and you found yourself caught in it, unable to look away. The room seemed to shrink, the space between you charged.

Then, leaning in, Gojo brought his face close to yours, his breath a whisper against your ear. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine. "Bad for you," he murmured softly, his voice a low rumble, "I do like arrogant woman."

Before you could respond, he straightened up. "Good night," he said. "You should get some sleep."

With that, he turned and walked out of the lab, leaving you sitting there. The air seemed to shift back to normal as the door closed behind him. 

─── ·✧· ─── 

Your legs hurt. Your back hurt. Your hips hurt. Your neck hurt.

Everything hurt.

You stood on the sidelines of the operating room for nearly 6 hours. Standing still on the same spot. You'll never get used to that. It's the worst part of the job. But it was still a privilege to witness Geto and Gojo in surgery, right?

The room was filled with the sound of beeping monitors and the low murmur of the assisting surgical team. From your vantage point, you had a clear view of the procedure and the surgeons. They worked together with a quiet efficiency that was fascinating. 

However, as you watched, something about Gojo caught your attention. His movements seemed slightly off. You started noticing it about an hour ago. But no one said anything. His hair was drenched in sweat and clung to his forehead. You could see the slight trembling in his hands, almost imperceptible.

Something was definitely off.

Your gaze lingered on him, studying his every move.

"First-year."

Gojo suddenly paused and looked up, his eyes meeting yours. You flinched slightly, as he caught you starring at him. "You want to try the next part?" he asked, his voice cutting through the hum of the operating room.

Was he serious?

Before you could reply, Geto interjected, "Satoru, are you joking? She's still a student."

Gojo's gaze didn't waver from you. "I know. But you said she's your best student," he replied his lips twitching with a smile. "I want to test that."

"You've done aneurysm surgery before, back in your hometown, right?" Gojo asked you.

Did he google you or what?

"Yes," you replied.

"Then step forward," he said.

You hesitated. Your gaze drifted to Geto for confirmation. Geto hesitated, then gave a slight nod.

Heart pounding, you stepped forward to the operating table. A rush of adrenaline surged through you. You took the offered surgical tools with a steady hand from Gojo, his eyes locked with yours. "We're going to work on clipping the aneurysm now. You've done it before, right?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart.

"Good." He moved closer, positioning himself so he could guide you while still giving you control. "Start with an incision here," he instructed, pointing to a specific area on the patient's brain with his own instrument.

You could feel his gaze over your shoulder; the warmth of his body near yours. As you made the initial incision, Gojo moved even closer. "Now, carefully dissect the tissue to expose the aneurysm," he continued.

Your hands worked around the fragile brain. You did surgery before. Yes. But this was another level. Every eye of every nurse and doctor in the room was on you. Geto was monitoring the patient's data. He glanced at you from time to time, his expression unreadable. But you were at least three inches deep into a human brain, so there was no way out anyway.

After that, you would certainly have to vomit from the adrenaline.

At one critical point, your hands hesitated. Your heart almost exploded. In that moment, you could either kill this patient or save him. "Calm down," Gojo said, so low and close to your ear that only you could hear it. Gojo's hand cupped yours gently. "You're doing fine. Trust yourself," he murmured. His touch was brief, but it was enough to ground you for a moment.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you isolated the aneurysm and prepared it for clipping.

"Good," he whispered.

Finally, as you placed the clip on the aneurysm and secured it, a wave of accomplishment washed over you. Hell, you really did it.

"Congratulations, an excellent clipping," Gojo said, his lips forming a smile. "You can step back now."

"Thank you, Dr. Gojo," you whispered. As you stepped back, a wide smile spread across your face, hidden beneath the mask but undeniable in the sparkle of your eyes.

Gojo took the lead again to close up the patient. But his gaze shifted to you every now and then.

Geto's eyes narrowed.

─── ·✧· ───

"You did a good job in there."

Gojo glanced in your direction as you both washed up in the scrub room after the operation.

"Thanks," you replied, meeting his eyes.

"I may have underestimated you," he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

Wait? Was that a compliment? From him?

Before you could respond, the door to the scrub room burst open. Geto stormed in, his face flushed with anger. He tore off his scrubs and threw them into the trash with a thud that made you flinch.

"We need to talk, Satoru," he said sharply. His intense gaze was fixed solely on Gojo, as if you weren't even there.

Shit.

Gojo calmly turned off the tap and reached for a towel, drying his hands with deliberate slowness. His face was an unreadable mask. He gave you a brief glance before following Geto out of the room.

"Don't you dare fuck my student," Geto hissed before the door had even fully closed behind them. But it didn't matter anyway, you could hear their voices through the thin walls.

Gojo leaned back against a table. His arms crossed over his chest. "What are you getting at?"

"Don't try to fuck with me, Satoru. I've seen the way you look at her."

"I supervised her, so that she wouldn't kill the patient. That's all you saw."

"Supervision?" Geto's voice was sharp. "Since when do you let a student handle such a crucial part of a surgery? What's gotten into you? What if she had screwed up?"

Gojo's eyes narrowed. "What's your problem? She's proven herself capable, and she performed brilliantly today, don't you think?"

Geto advanced a step, closing the distance between them. His frustration palpable. "This isn't like you, Satoru. You're blurring lines that should remain clear. She's a student. You're supposed to be her mentor, not—not whatever you're turning this into."

The room went silent.

"Your concern is noted, but misplaced," Gojo said. "My interest in her is purely professional. She has potential, real potential, and it's my job to support that."

Geto's expression hardened. "That's right, she has potential, and you're risking that if you can't keep your hands off her."

"What?" Gojo pushed away from the table. "Because you want her for yourself?"

"I can't believe you'd go there," Geto snapped back. "I brought her here because she's damn good at what she does, not for any other reason."

Gojo's face tightened, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "You should know me better, Suguru. I was giving her a shot to show her skills, that's all."

In a sudden move, Geto closed the distance and grasped Gojo's shirt, pulling him forward. Their faces were just inches apart. "Listen, Satoru," Geto said. "I'm dead serious. One wrong step, one slip, and you could ruin everything—her career, the project, your own reputation. Don't think I'll stand by and watch that happen."

Gojo's eyes met Geto's, unflinching. He placed his hands on Geto's to release his grip. "I hear you, Suguru," he said. "But you're wrong. My interest in her is purely professional."

"Make sure it stays that way," Geto warned. He released his grip and stepped back.

Geto then turned and left the room. Gojo turned his head to look at you through the small window in the door that separated you. Your eyes briefly met his before he also left, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Great.

─── ·✧· ───

This day couldn't get any better.

You stood at the exit of the hospital. It was pouring.

Resigned, you decided to wait near the exit, hoping the rain would stop soon. Minutes passed, but the rain showed no signs of stopping.

"Waiting out the rain?" a familiar voice called out from behind.

You turned to see Gojo appeared. He had changed out of his surgical scrubs and was now in his regular clothes. His muscular arms and broad shoulders visible even under his loose button-down.

"Yeah, it looks like I'm stuck here for a while."

Gojo opened his umbrella. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

You hesitated for a moment.

"Suguru already left, don't worry," he added, as if reading your thoughts.

You frowned slightly. "That's not what I was concerned about."

"Then why are you hesitating?" He took a step closer, the umbrella now over you both. He stood at least a head taller than you, looking down at you with heavy eyes. You studied the tired lines in his face, the slight dark circles under his eyes.

"You look tired."

"Do I?" Gojo's voice was deep, his gaze lingering shamelessly on your lips. "Perhaps I am. I've been thinking about you all night."

"Bold statement, especially after Geto's warning."

"I'm not afraid of Suguru."

"Is that why you let me operate today? To piss him off?"

He leaned forward. "I let you operate because you can operate. Suguru is hesitant. He likes to play safe. With me, you'll have more challenge—more fun."

"Are we still talking about surgery?"

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied with a grin. "Come on, It's been a long day. I insist."

"Okay," you finally relented. "Thank you."

You stepped out into the rain together. The umbrella shielded you both as you walked side by side. You walked in silence, the only sound being the gentle drumming of raindrops. Gojo subtly shifted the umbrella, ensuring you were completely covered. His shoulder got wet.

When you reached your car, you turned to him. Somehow you stood so close now. His breath hot against you skin. Your stomach turned slightly, but you tried to brush the feeling off. "Thank you," you said softly, "—for everything today."

"Can I ask you for a favor?" He asked suddenly.

"Sure."

"Can you help me with a project?"

"Another project? Besides the neuroprosthetics?" you asked.

"It's a private one. I could use your assistance with processing data."

"Let me know when and where."

He smiled. "Perfect."

Gojo smoothly opened the car door for you, still holding the umbrella over your head. "Take care," he said gently, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. You both remained frozen. The world outside the umbrella a blur.

"You too," you finally replied, breaking the moment. As you got into your car, you were acutely aware of his eyes still on you.

He closed the door for you and turned.

─── ·✧· ───

"Sorry in advance if this hurts."

You tried to insert the needle, your hand less steady than usual. The needle missed the vein, making Yuta wince. "Sorry," you wiped sweat from your forehead. Then tried again, quickly changing the needle.

A week had passed since the fight between Geto and Gojo. Since then, Gojo hadn't visited the lab. You didn't know what to make of it. But perhaps it was for the better. Less fighting after all. Gojo still didn't approve of your approach.

Still, you couldn't force your mind to stop racing. Perhaps it was the immense workload you had. The research project, not to mention Gojo's personal research project, and inevitably, Gojo himself.

You were in practical class, sitting with Maki, Yuta, and Toge, focusing on a seemingly simple task—practicing drawing blood. But you failed every time.

Yuta gave you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, you've done this a hundred times."

Yeah. Not really, but you should probably not tell him that right now.

You took a deep breath and tried again. Failed.

"It's alright, give it another go," Yuta said, even after you had stabbed his arm too many times to be comfortable.

The needle slipped again and missed the mark. "I'm sorry, Yuta. I don't know what's wrong with me today."

"Pressure?" Toge asked.

"Yeah, I guess it's a lot lately."

Suddenly, Dr. Kento, the instructor for this practical lesson, appeared behind you. His stoic demeanor sent a shiver down your spine without you having to see it.

"You're really not good at this," he commented bluntly, not really befitting a professor. But it was true.

Forcing a smile, you turned to face him. "Just a bit off my game today."

Dr. Kento's expression remained impassive. "Drawing blood is a basic skill. You should be able to do it in your sleep," he lectured. "But you look like you're torturing your patient."

"Ehh—," you began, turning back to Yuta and only then noticing his pained expression. All color had drained from his face. 

Oops.

Dr. Kento's gaze then swept across the room, capturing the attention of the entire class. "Everyone needs to master this," he continued. "I expect you to be able to do this by the end of the week."

You kidding, right?

It was already Thursday. He basically meant tomorrow.

As if on cue, the bell rang.

You and your friends began to gather your belongings. As the room buzzed with the chatter of students packing up, Yuta brought up a topic that immediately drew everyone's interest.

"Hey, about the sports festival, which team should we join?"

"Sports festival?" you echoed, feeling slightly out of the loop. Your focus on the lab work had left you missing everything else that happened on campus.

Yuta nodded. "Yeah, it's a big event. Every year there's a sports festival in the summer with a bunch of team sports events and competitions."

Toge, usually reserved, showed a flicker of excitement. "Basketball."

"Yeah, the professors usually form a basketball team against the students. Should we join?" Yuta asked.

Maki already scrolled through her phone, looking up the festival details. "We should register then, hmm ... oh the professor team is already full, and .. oh Dr. Gojo and Dr. Geto are in the team."

"I bet they are just as competitive on the court as they are in the OR," Yuta added.

"Join?" Toge asked.

"Sure," Maki commented, scrolling through her phone for more details.

Out of curiosity, you asked, "Does anyone here even play basketball?"

Yuta, scratching his chin thoughtfully, replied, "Well, I've played a bit. And Maki's naturally good at anything, so—" he paused, seemingly realizing what he just said. His face turned a shade redder. "Ehh, I mean, you've played basketball before, right, Maki?"

Maki just shrugged, a confident smirk on her face. "He's not wrong."

"So, are we doing this?" you asked.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Great.

Now you had to learn how to play basketball too.

─── ·✧· ───

Later that day, you found yourself outside Gojo's office, clutching the stack of papers you had prepared for his research project. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knocked softly before entering.

"Dr. Gojo, I've finished the analysis you requested," you said, placing the papers on his desk.

"Thank you. I'll check these later," he said, not looking up from his computer.

You turned to leave. But just as you reached the door, Gojo's voice halted you.

"Wait."

You paused, turning back to face him.

"Wash your hands. There are syringes and needles in the drawer on the bottom right."

"What?" you asked, not sure what he wanted from you.

He looked up from his computer. "You're embarrassing me," he said bluntly. "You know what Kento said to me earlier? He said, and I quote, 'Are you stupid? How can you let a student operate on the brain who can barely get a needle through skin?'"

You felt a knot forming in your stomach.

"It was just not my day, really," you stammered, trying to defend yourself, though your voice lacked conviction.

"How many times have you done that before?" he asked, his gaze intimidating.

You were lost for words.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, more to himself than to you. He stood up from his desk and rolled up his sleeves.

Before you knew it, you found yourself sitting next to him, wearing gloves and poised with a needle in hand. Gojo's arm was outstretched towards you, the veins visible beneath his skin. You stared at his arm. Somehow your mind now completely blank.

"Aren't you going to tie a band around my arm to make my veins more visible first?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, right," you muttered, your cheeks flushing. You wrapped the band around his arm and secured it tightly. Your fingers trembled slightly as they touched his firm skin. The contact felt unexpectedly intimate. It made your heart race.

He watched you, his expression softening slightly. "Easy now," he said in a more encouraging tone. "It's not hard. Just focus."

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your trembling hands. The needle hovered over his vein, and for a moment, you were acutely aware of the silence in the room, punctuated only by the sound of your own erratic heartbeat.

You hesitated.

"Use your little finger against my arm to anchor your hand," he said.

Following his advice, you rested your finger against his skin, feeling a surprising steadiness in your hand.

"And angle the needle slightly," he added. "It's about finding the right entry point—not too steep, not too shallow."

You adjusted the angle of the needle accordingly, aiming for the vein. The tip pierced the skin, and this time, it slid into the vein smoothly. You let out a heavy exhale.

"Good," he said. "Now, draw the blood gently."

As you carefully drew the blood, you could feel Gojo's eyes on your hands, monitoring your technique. Once the procedure was complete and you carefully removed the needle. "Much better," he rolled down his sleeve, a slight arch of his eyebrow. "How is it that you've never really done that before?"

"I don't need to draw blood if I'm operating on the brain," you said with a shrug.

Gojo watched you, a stunned expression flickering across his face.

"The nurses usually handle that anyway," you added, hoping to clarify your point.

There was a moment of silence as he processed what you just said. Finally, he shook his head slightly. "I'm just going to ignore what you just said," he replied.

Changing the subject, he leaned back in his chair. "By the way, I saw your name on the list for the students' basketball team for the upcoming sports festival."

You raised your eyebrows, peeling off your gloves. "Oh, you did?"

"Yeah," he said, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "I didn't know you played basketball. But I have to admit, I'm curious to see if you're as good at basketball as you are at clipping aneurysms."

"I haven't really played much before, so you might want to lower your expectations," a small smile tugged at your lips. "Have you played before?"

"I used to play pretty regularly when I was in universtiy," he said.

Great.

If he was anywhere near as good at basketball as he was at surgery, you were fucked.

"You should teach me then," you quipped, not quite meeting his gaze. As the words left your lips, you immediately realized the implication. You turned to him, a blush coloring your cheeks. "It's just a joke."

His smile widened. "Oh really? Too bad, I'd have liked that."

The room fell into silence.

You found yourself staring at him, and he returned your gaze.

His silver hair had a few strands that were slightly out of place. Your eyes studied his face as if seeing it for the first time. The typical intensity in his blue eyes had softened, replaced by an almost gentle expression. His sharp jawline moved slightly, as if he were pondering something.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice softer than intended. "I wonder what you were like back in your university days."

"Why do you ask?"

"It's hard to imagine you not being the controlled surgeon you are now."

"You think I'm controlled?"

"No, that's not what I meant," you hurried to clarify. "I mean, you're always so focused, so—precise, and—"

Before you could finish, he leaned in closer, his intense gaze holding you captive. The world around you seemed to fade into a blur, leaving only the two of you in sharp focus. You could feel the warmth of his breath, barely a whisper away from your skin.

Gojo reached out, his hand gently cupping your chin. He lifted your face slightly, ensuring your eyes met directly.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I might lose my control sooner than you'd expect," he said, his thumb lightly brushing your jawline.

After a moment that seemed to stretch on, he slowly withdrew his hand and stepped back, breaking the connection. He turned away from you and walked back to his desk. "Thank you for your work. You can leave now."

─── ·✧· ───

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the university's outdoor basketball court. Maki, Toge, Yuta, and you had gathered for practice, despite the lingering summer heat.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," you said, dribbling the basketball on the sun-baked concrete. "None of us are exactly pros."

Maki, tying her hair back, grinned. "Speak for yourself. I've got some hidden talents." She effortlessly caught the ball and shot it toward the hoop, scoring a basket. "See?"

Yuta laughed and retrieved the ball. "That's just beginner's luck, Maki. Watch and learn." He took a shot, but the ball bounced off the rim.

"Practice," Toge said.

"Yeah, we really need more practice," you finished his sentence.

"Hey, watch this!" Yuta called out, attempting a fancy dribble move, only to lose control of the ball. It rolled away, and Toge scooped it up and passed it back with a short, "Focus."

"You're one to talk," Maki teased, swiping the ball from Toge and lobbing it towards the basket. It swished through the net effortlessly. "I still got it!"

You caught the ball and wiped the sweat from your brow. "I never thought we'd be practicing basketball as medical students."

Maki turned to you with a curious look. "Speaking of training, how's the research going? You've been spending a lot of time with Geto and Gojo."

You began to dribble the ball, more or less. "It's intense, but I'm learning a lot. Dr. Geto is incredibly intelligent, and well, working with Dr. Gojo is—an experience."

"An experience, huh?" Maki said with a grin "Is that code for 'Dr. Handsome has some unique ways of teaching me'?"

You flinched. Yuta quickly snatched the ball from your unfocused grip and shot it through the net.

"Dr. Handsome?" you echoed.

Maki opened a bottle of water. "Don't tell me he's not good-looking—they both are."

"I mean, they both definitely have their—charm, I guess."

"Charm, huh?" Maki teased, taking a sip of her water. "I've seen the way Dr. Gojo looks at you. There's definitely something."

"It's not like that," you protested, though your defensive tone might have suggested otherwise. "He's just an incredible surgeon to work with, that's all."

"He did let you operate with him, though. That's all I'm saying," Maki added.

"Aneurisym," Toge chimed in.

Yuta, bouncing the ball beside you, added, "Yeah, he let you operate on an aneurysm with him, which is pretty crazy."

You rolled your eyes. "Can we focus on the festival game instead of me?"

Maki laughed. "Alright, alright, we'll drop it. But seriously, how's the project going? I mean, besides the whole Dr. Handsome thing."

Yeah, where to start on that.

Taking a deep breath, you told them more about the research project. 

─── ·✧· ───

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of orange and pink. You were still on the basketball court, practicing your shots. The others had already left. The court was quiet, except for the rhythmic bounce of the basketball and the occasional swish of the net.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through. "Hey, First-year."

Startled, you turned to see Gojo approaching the court. He was dressed in athletic attire—a black, skin-tight t-shirt and shorts that looked criminally good on him.

"Dr. Gojo," you said, a bit surprised to see him there. "I didn't expect to see you practicing."

He picked up a basketball and began dribbling with ease. "I like to keep my skills sharp," he said, shooting a casual glance in your direction. "And I heard there was a new challenger on the students team."

You let out a tired sigh. "I'm just trying to make sure I don't embarrass myself too much at the festival," you admitted.

"Have more confidence in yourself, first-year. You're operating on brains, there's no room for doubts." Gojo shot the ball towards the hoop, scoring effortlessly. "And by the way, stop calling me Dr., just Gojo is fine."

"Alright, Gojo," you said.

Gojo passed the ball to you with a casual flick of his wrist. "Come on, first-year. Show me what you've got."

A cold shiver ran down your skin. Oddly, having to demonstrate your non-existent basketball skills felt more intimidating than clipping an aneurysm in front of him.

You positioned yourself at the three-point line, bouncing the ball a few times to find your rhythm. With a deep breath, you aimed and threw the ball, but it bounced off the rim and rolled away.

Gojo walked over to retrieve the ball. "Yeah, you'll definitely embarrass yourself if you play like that."

Ouch.

"Can you do anything besides brain surgery?" he probed further.

Ouch.

"You know that hurts," you said.

"It's all about posture and precision," he said, closing the distance between you two. He halted just before you. "May I?"

With a nod, you consented. He moved in closer, positioning himself directly behind you. His presence enveloping you in a comforting warmth. He smelled like sweat, but oddly, you found it rather attractive. 

You could feel the light touch of his hands as they gently guided your shoulders, aligning your stance with the hoop. His closeness was suffocating, and you found yourself acutely aware of every movement he made.

"Bend your knees a bit more," he advised, his voice a soothing whisper near your ear. You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against the side of your neck, causing your heart to beat faster. His hands moved down to adjust your arms. His touch warm against your skin.

You tried to focus on his instructions. But the closeness of his body, the gentle pressure of his hands on your arms, made it damn hard to concentrate on anything other than him. 

"Now, when you shoot, focus on a fluid motion," he added.

As you prepared to take the shot, Gojo's hands rested lightly on your hips, steadying you. You should have pushed them away. Touching you like that was far beyond appropriate. But you didn't. You wanted him to touch you even more in that moment.

With his guidance, you took the shot, and this time the ball sailed through the net with a satisfying thud.

"You see? You have it in you," Gojo said, leaning back slightly but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze. Your heart immediately dropped.

Even in the waning light you could see it clearly.

"Are you high?" you asked, a slight frown creasing your forehead.

For a moment, Gojo seemed taken aback by your question. He quickly masked his expression with a casual smile and stepped back, creating some distance between you. He began to dribble the basketball, his movements fluid and practiced, yet there was a hint of unease in his actions.

"It's nothing," he said, focusing intently on the ball rather than meeting your eyes. "Just a small injury during practice."

"And you decided to what? Throw in an opioid for that small injury?" you pressed.

He stopped dribbling and faced you, his expression becoming more serious. "No, of course not," he replied with a hint of defensiveness. "It's just a minor strain. I didn't take anything strong for it."

You couldn't believe what he just said. He—a surgeon—a doctor—out of all people.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, it's been a long day, and I might have pushed myself a bit too hard. But I'm fine, really."

You studied him closely. "You expect me to believe that?" you took another step closer. "What did you really take? Codeine? Morphine?"

A flicker of something undefinable passing through his eyes. "You're crossing a line," he replied, his tone firmer this time.

"Me? Crossing a line?" you countered. "Since the first day we met, you've been pushing boundaries, and now you say I'm the one overstepping?"

Gojo's expression hardened. "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I am perfectly fine." His words were steady, but the slight tightness in his jaw suggested otherwise.

You didn't buy anything he just said. The feeling that something was off clung to you, refusing to be dispelled. His usual clarity seemed clouded, his sharpness dulled. His eyes slightly red. His skin paler than usual. It was unsettling to see him like this.

After a brief pause, he picked up the basketball and held it loosely at his side. "I think we're done here," he said. "You should go home."

You watched him for a moment longer. But then you decided to turn and walk away, leaving him alone on the court. As you made your way, his words replayed over and over in your mind. 

Was something wrong with him? 

Should you be worried?

After all, you worked together. And also—naturally—you were worried about him, right? Like any student would be worried about his professor, right?

The evening air suddenly felt so cold.

─── ·✧· ───

The lab was quiet except for the occasional hum of machinery and the soft clinking of your tools as you worked. You were deep in concentration, analyzing data for the upcoming neuroprosthetics project, when the door opened with a soft click.

"Ah, there you are," Geto said as he stepped in. "I've been searching for you. We've finally got the green light for our surgery. Everything's lined up and ready to go."

You straightened up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Really? That's great. When?"

Geto walked over to your workstation, a subtle smile on his face. "In two weeks. Are you excited?"

"More like nervous."

"Ah, that's natural. But don't worry, it will work. You've done an excellent job."

You felt a swell of pride at his words. "Thank you. I'm glad I could help."

Still, there was a question on the tip of your tongue, something you had been pondering since last week. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, but then stopped. Words failed you.

"What is it?" Geto asked, knowing you too well.

"Is something wrong with Gojo?"

He leaned against the table and crossed his arms. His expression shifted slightly. "Don't worry about him. He's just stressed lately."

Somehow you didn't buy it.

"Even so, you shouldn't get that close to him."

"I'm not—" you wanted to interject, but he cut you off.

"I'm not blind," he said firmly. "You have a bright future in science. Don't risk it by getting too involved with him. Satoru is a brilliant surgeon, but his personal life is a mess."

What should that mean?

You looked away, unsure how to respond.

Geto then changed the subject. "By the way, I have some more news for you—good and bad. Which would you like to hear first?"

"The good news, of course," you replied.

"Here," Geto said, handing you a journal. As you took it, the bold lettering on the cover immediately caught your eye. It featured an article written by Gojo.

You opened the journal, your heart racing as you skimmed the pages to find the article. And there it was—a comprehensive meta-analysis that you, too, had worked on.

"No way," you murmured, your eyes scanning the text in disbelief.

Below the article was your name, listed alongside Gojo's, credited for your pivotal role in the data analysis and interpretation.

"He mentioned me." 

Geto nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "That's a pretty big deal."

You were momentarily speechless. Being credited alongside someone as renowned as Gojo was insane.

"Now for the not-so-good news," Geto began.

You looked up at him from the Journal, your eyes still sparkling.

"You failed your anatomy exam."

─── ·✧· ───

The sports festival was in full swing.

Cheers and laughter filled the university campus. The summer heat beat down relentlessly. You already felt a little nauseous that day, and the sun only made it worse. Yeah, you weren't really cut for the heat. At least the bleachers were partly shaded.

You sat quietly besides with Maki, Yuta, and Toge, watching various events unfold on the field. Despite the lively atmosphere, you couldn't bring yourself into the festive spirit. Your mind was elsewhere.

Maki nudged you gently. "Still thinking about the exam?"

You sighed. "Yeah, I have to pass the next one, or I'll have to do this year again."

Yuta leaned over. "You'll go it, I'm sure. Plus, you got mentioned in Dr. Gojo's paper—that's huge!"

"Huge," Toge said again to underline it even more.

You managed a small smile. "I hope you're right."

Maki patted your back. "Dr. Handsome will sure put in a good word for you."

You sighed again. "Not this topic again."

Suddenly, the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, announcing that the basketball match between students and professors will begin shortly.

Yuta turned to you and the others. "Looks like it's our turn. Let's start getting ready."

You nodded, through a wave of nausea washed over you. The heat of the sun was merciless, more intense than you'd expected, and it seemed to be draining your strength by the minute.

Maki stood up. "Alright, team, let's show them what we've got!"

Should you vomit now, or later—or both?

Having changed into your sports attire, you joined your teammates on the basketball court. You began to warm up your muscles, even though the heat made that almost unnecessary. You felt your face burn. Nausea churned in your stomach. 

You paused, closing your eyes for a moment, hoping it would pass.

Then, the professors' team made their entrance onto the court. Among them were Geto and Gojo. They began dribbling and passing the ball between them, occasionally doing stretches that showcased their well-built bodies.

They looked confident.

You calculated the odds of how badly this match might go for your team.

Why did you even sign up for this?

Your gaze inadvertently met Gojo's across the court. For a fleeting second, your eyes locked, sending a wave of unease through you. You haven't spoken to him since. Quickly, you averted your gaze and focused back on your stretches.

As Gojo and another professor continued their warm-up, they passed the ball back and forth, aiming for the net. Then a shot from Gojo missed its mark, sending the ball rolling your way. 

As if he ever missed a shot.

The ball stopped at your feet, and before you could react, Gojo was there, sprinting up to retrieve it. He halted right in front of you. "You don't look good," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it.

"I'm fine," you said. "I think it's just the heat."

Gojo reached out, his hand cool against your forehead. "You're overheating."

You quickly pushed his hand aside. "You might want to keep a professional distance, don't you think?" The words came out sharper than intended.

Gojo frowned slightly. "You should sit this one out."

"I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I am perfectly fine," you responded, mirroring his words back at him.

He took a step closer. "You're stupid, you know that?"

Before you could respond, Geto's voice called out from across the court. Gojo turned at the sound. "Coming!" He gave you a last look before quickly walking away. You watched them do a stupid boyish handshake as Gojo rejoined Geto.

At least he was not high today, you thought.

The crowd was already roaring with cheers and applause as both teams lined up. They all here to witness my downfall, you thought, struggling against the nausea that threatened your focus. 

Right off the bat, Gojo weaved through your team's defense, fluid and precise. He flicked the ball to Geto, who faked left and then took a clear shot, scoring the first basket of the game. The crowd erupted.

Yuta sprinted down the court and dribbled past Gojo. He passed the ball to you, and you took your chance at a three-pointer. The ball arced beautifully, but it rimmed out at the last second. 

At least you tried, right?

Not missing a beat, Toge snagged a pass from a professor and pivoted into a counterattack. He found Maki open. She didn't disappoint, scoring a layup to tie the game. Your team was holding up surprisingly well, mostly thanks to your friends' efforts.

Then, Geto feinted, passing to an open Gojo. With a swift move, Gojo scored another point, eliciting a fresh wave of cheers from the spectators. But Yuta was quick to follow, dribbling down the court. He passed to Maki, who nailed another crucial basket, closing the score gap.

In the final minutes, the game was deadlocked. Gojo had the ball, expertly evading your teammates defensive efforts. He made a break for the basket. Yuta, determined to block him, overreached and stumbled backwards, heading straight for you.

You barely had time to brace yourself.

The collision was inevitable. 

Yuta crashed into you, and both of you went tumbling to the ground. The game halting abruptly to the sound of a sharp whistle.

"Are you okay?" Yuta blurted out.

Why was Yuta always running you over?

You rolled over to your side, feeling the heat of the ground beneath you. Everything spun, nausea swirling with pain. "I might need a minute," you managed to say, the world tilting around you.

Almost instantly, Gojo was there, kneeling beside you. "Don't move." He began to examine you for any immediate injuries, his hands tenderly scanning your exposed skin. "You feeling dizzy?"

Your response was a pained sound, a clear sign that you were far from okay. "You might have a concussion. We need to get you checked right away," Gojo said.

"I'm fine," you started to protest, but Gojo had already lifted you into his arms in one fluid motion. He held you close to him. Instinctively, you clung to his neck, feeling the pounding of his heart against your own. It made your stomach clench.

"I'm fine, really," you said again as he carried you off the court.

"Ah shut up, I know you're not." His eyes fixed on you, as if you were the only person who mattered at that moment. "You're really stressing me, you know that?"

─── ·✧· ───

The room felt so small. 

His presence filled the whole space.

"There," Gojo said softly as he inserted the needle into your arm. "This should help with hydration and ease any nausea."

You watched as he secured the needle in place. He adjusted the flow of saline, his eyes meeting yours, a playful smile on his lips. "So much for not needing to handle a needle, huh?"

You rolled your eyes.

Then he cupped your chin and tilted your head back slightly. "Watch the light," he instructed, flicking a small penlight on and off before your eyes. His fingers warm against your skin. "Good," he said, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Maybe you should stick to brains, instead of sports," he added.

You smiled weakly. "I'll never touch a basketball again in my life, I guess."

His smile widened.

"Thank you," you said quietly.

"No need to," he replied. "Just do me a favor and stop making me worry about you all the time. It's draining."

Your stomach tightened. Gojo turned away and removed his gloves, tossing them into the trash. As the saline drip worked its magic, you began to feel better, the nausea and dizziness slowly receding.

"You mentioned me in your paper," you spoke up, breaking the silence.

Gojo turned to face you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I did."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I? You've done most of the analysis." 

"You could have done it without me."

"I know, but I wanted you to be a part of it."

Knowing that the analysis of such an important issue would get a lot of recognition, he should have added.

"Why?" you asked again, already knowing the answer.

"Because I want to support you."

"But I'm just a student, and you're—" You trailed off, feeling a sudden tightness in your chest. His crystal blue eyes seem to pierce right through you.

"And I'm what?"

He stood up and closed the distance between you, his hands coming to rest on either side of you on the bed. The nearness of his body made your breathing hitch in your throat. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, the subtle scent of his cologne blending with the sterile air.

His face was so close, his lips almost grazing yours. Your heart raced, pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. 

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. "—my professor."

"Too bad, isn't it?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down your spine.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, a thousand reasons why this shouldn't happen, why you should push him away. But your body betrayed you, leaning into him, closing the distance, seeking the touch of his lips against yours.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whispered.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

Your core heated, turning molten. Your lips parted slightly, surrendering to the moment. 

You could tell how much self-control it took for him to not kiss you. You could see it in the way his jaw was set, his brow subtly furrowed, his eyes glued to your lips. Yet, he waited for your consent. 

His lips were a mere breath from yours—so cruelly close. Every fiber of your being yearned for him to close the gap, for him to lose against his self-control.

Suddenly you heard your name and a knock at the door.

The door swung open abruptly. Gojo flinched back, the spell between you broken. Regaining his composure, he stepped back, putting a professional distance between you two. You straightened quickly, trying to hide your flushed face.

You wished desperately that he'd kissed you.

Geto stood in the doorway, his eyes flickering between Gojo and you.

You could tell what he was thinking.

next chapter ->

author's note: thanks for reading and feel free to leave your thoughts !! if you want to be added to the taglist, pls comment on the series masterlist ♡

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"doing laundry and taxes with you" ft. the monster trio!

ft. (domestic!) luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

in which, you make their house a home

(a/n: im sick and needed some comfort so this got very long im so sorry!!)

warnings: nsfw towards the end! nsfw stuff includes car-sex, in public, dirty talk, rough sex, penetration, squirting, sanji takes a picture of you choking on his dic- (ahem, not sorry); MDNI (thankyou very much okay byee)

luffy:

they are so precious to me 😭😭

- whatever you do, don't imagine domestic!luffy - don't imagine cold mornings when you're under the cover with him. he's holding you tightly, snuggling against you and whispering a soft, "good morning, baby" - do not imagine him coming back from home and holding you by your waist when you're doing something, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you asks you how your day was - don't think of him as one of those guys who start a tickle fight when poke him once and laugh at him - absolutely do not imagine his as one of those s/o who are down to make everything into a game "whoever loses mario-kart makes the dinner, okay?" he grins, pulling you down onto the couch with him "oh really?" you laugh when he holds you tighter, "i really want some pasta tonight then" - he ended up making pasta that night - but as i said, don't imagine luffy as that because he is certainly that man and more - he will fret over you when you fall sick, trying to make you laugh your way out of a fever (canon). he won't leave your side, no matter how much you insist that you're fine "what do you need? water? soup? pizza- oh wait no that's unhealthy" a pause, "wait, do you want a pizza? it'll probably be fine if you eat one tbh, right??" - also the kind of guy who will ask his friends to turn their car around (because in no parallel universe do i believe luffy knows how to drive ffs) because you only said "love ya" and missed the i (how dare you, he's heartbroken now) "yn!!" he's yelling from the driveway, "YOU FORGOT TO SAY I LOVE YOU!!" so now you're sticking out your head out of your apartment window, looking down at a pouty luffy, annoyed zoro and unbothered sanji - also, man has TERRIBLE separation anxiety - (people now know that wherever you are invited, luffy is invited too "what are you doing here?" nami hisses as she vaguely looks at luffy, "this is supposed to be a girls night out!" luffy shrugs, "pretend im not even here" yeah, luffy that's kinda hard when you're practically draped over your girlfriend the entire night) - but as it's been established, don't fall for his perfect acts because he is the kind to park in a distant corner of a grocery store parking lot and beg for you to let him fuck you "it'll be quick," he's whining, tugging you towards himself and kissing you senseless, "baby, i promise. just one hit." - he's feral, holding you flush against himself as he fucked you with your top still on and your hands holding tightly against his neck - your arousal drips into his thigh and he's groaning about how good you feel, you feel him thrust into you harder and now you're spasming and cumming around his girth - he didn't infact let you go after one hit. - you both walked into the grocery store 37 mins later with your faces flushed, hair tousled and a familiarly uncomfortable wetness nesting between your thighs - (cause i know he's fucking nasty and he will absolutely make you walk into that store with his essence still inside you. sorry, i do not make the rules :/) - eitherways, best guy ever - he's the perfect s/o that never lets you have a dull moment in your life as long as his annoying ass is around

zoro:

- i will stand by what i've always said. soft zoro is the best zoro. 'nuff said, i will die on this hill. - but god, nobody can ever imagine how soft domestic!zoro is with you by the way he shrugs and grunts off any and all people around him (except for his crew) - frankly speaking, you didn't expect this either when you started dating him - you would have never imagined this green-haired, stoic-faced, dry-ass motherfucker to hold onto you tightly and lightly close his eyes whenever you forced him to see another horror movie - he claimed watching horror movies was the equivalent of mind torture but followed along cause you seem to like them (you don't probably like them that much, you just like his heavy figure against yours as he snuggles in deeper and deeper against you) "this is so stupid" he hisses at the girl in the screen, groaning when she blatantly ignores him, "she will die if she follows the fucking voice!!" you don't fail to notice how shrill his deep voice can get whenever there's a jumpscare (but he will blame the wind for that noise, never admits what he knows is true) - he is so soft in the way he offers to shampoo your hair when you drag him into the shower. his calloused fingers are light, gentle, against your scalp and you can't help but smile when he flashes you a small smile and asks if it's fine - domestic!zoro is so soft in the way he would carry you bridal-style/on his back everywhere (wdym you only had to go to the kitchen?? he can carry you there, he's strong, do you not believe him?) - also, we all have sorta established that he's not a pda guy but my lord, behind those four walls, he needs to be around you one way or the other - doesn't matter if he is just standing at the bathroom door, making small talk as you do your skincare for the night or he's holding onto your hand as you both lay sprawled on your bed, looking at your phones - but don't let his softness make you forget that this man is a piece of shit. - he will purposely stand in front of cabinets and cupboards when you cook and flash you a innocent smile when you get annoyed; he will finish your favourite conditioner even though he said "i don't that conditioner too much"; he will purposely order you random stuff online and everytime you'd open it thinking it's something cute but it'll end up being something green and (cutely) stupid - (you now possess 5 mushroom figurines, 12 frogs doing random shit, a green cheap light saber, a lowkey-fucked up painting of baby yoda and green paper-clips. he doesn't even like green all that much, he just loves to annoy you) - but as i said, don't fall for his sweet facade because he will stop you at the door and fuck you against it before you're heading out in that skimpy dress (yes, he fucks you in that dress) (ofcourse he doesn't mind your dress riding up as long as people can see the marks he left on your body) "ah" he groans, thrusting upwards as one of his hands hold you firm against the door and another plays with your swollen clit, "sorry for ruinin' your makeup, baby. but look at you, you look so pretty, getting fucked right now" - he's sure the neighbours can hear the wood creaking against your weights and your high-pitched, feverish moans as you beg him to fuck you harder (it's the fourth time this month) - he forces his fingers (which were slick with your arousal) down your mouth and watches as his fingers rub away the lipstick into modern art "much better" he would sigh against your skin when he was done, "have fun at the party, babe" - he holds back a laugh cause he knows you can barely walk, much less party (not to mention, you gotta re-do your makeup now.) - so he goes with you, lending you his arm as support so that you wouldn't walk so wobbly "that dress still looks too good on you" he will whisper against your ear, "meet me in the bathroom in five, let me fuck you again" - as much as he is a menace, you wouldn't have it any other way - god, iamsodownbad for him <3

sanji:

it's him officer, he is the one who altered my brain chemistry!

- vinsmoke sanji is the perfect pinterest boyfriend. argue with the wall, i don't entertain wrong views. - what i mean is, he is the boyfriend/husband who will be up to bake a cake at 3 in the morning and eat it with you as the sun rises, he is the one who will hold you hand and groggily lead you to an ice-cream vendor at 1 in the night because you really wanted ice-cream, he is the one to take a thousand photos in any outfit you wear "yn" he's changing his angles every second, shutter of the camera snapping photo after photo, "you look so beautiful, so marvelous, charming, ah- mesmerizing, my love!" - he is the guy to hold your hand in a horror house no matter how scared he himself is. but you call tell by the way his fingers tightly close around yours whenever a jump-scare comes on (no, he is not being strong because he wants to look tough in front of zoro, tf you talking about??) - he is the man who will be looking for halloween decor on the first of september and christmas decor on the first of novemeber, takes the task of decorating his house very seriously (yes, he will out-do linda this time! so what if she bought a life-sized snowman?? he will pay luffy to become one, fuck linda.) - sanji is the guy that posts his girlfriend religiously (at one point, ussop asked you if you were holding him on gun-point and making him post you so much) - by religiously i mean for every one photo of himself, there's six of you like baby calm down nobody's gonna take her away - he also surprises you a lot (with nice surprises, unlike zoro.); he bought you a candle on your one-month anniversary and repurchases it every time you run through it - grocery store runs followed by cooking together is basically your idea of a weekly date - very on-brand with his theme but he has so many candids of you (a whole secret album with the title "my love <3"). there's pictures of you laughing at chopper's new onesie, hitting luffy in the face after he stole your sushi, tasting his cookies, tasting his dic- ahem. - it shouldn't come as any surprise that he has a huge thing for clicking pictures/ taking videos of you as he abuses your body in a way that has you crying for god "san-" "like that, moan out my fuckin' name, darling. tell me who's fucking you like this?" "you" you moan harder, eyes clamping shut, "you you, fucc-k you, sanji" - there's a video on his phone of his dick sliding in and out of your wet cunt as you moan and suck on your bottom lip; there's pictures of you sucking on his dick, giving the camera your prettiest doe-eyed look; there's a video of you squirting around his fingers, face red and body soaked as he keeps going and you're cumming a second, third, fourth time (that's his favourite video, it's insane how many times he comes back to that video) - he loves ruining you with slow sex as he makes you focus on the boring movie or show you're both watching - he gets off off how you try to maintain your composure but then come undone "yn, my love" he rasps in your ear, "come on, keep holding on for me. i'm gonna fuck you so well if you just keep taking me like this." - he ruins you and then gets you the best aftercare - ugh stan sanji for a good life.

a/n: the way i write sanji has me confused as to if i truly am a zoro girlie lmaoo. hope you liked it!! req are always open (also im sorry to the people who requested and i havent gotten around to it, i am just running low on fuel lately)

[blluespirit]

okay first three episodes thoughts

good

bending is cool as fuck

sozin’s actor does an amazing job at full crazy but calculated

scenery is STUNNING

monk gyatso made me cry. idk why i just saw him and wanted him to give me a hug so bad

APPA ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD AND NOT LIKE A LITERAL MONSTER

i wasn’t sure how id feel about them showing the air nomad massacre but i think the importsnt thing is that they showed it was a massacre - and that although they can defend themselves, they don’t have the ability to fight back like an organised army would bc they’re pacifists! they attacked a peaceful group

the abandoned fire nation ship in the southern water tribe looks so fucking cool

ARTIST ZUKO???!!! LETS GOOO

Dallas does an amazing job at getting across Zuko’s intense desperation

I actually ended up loving all the Sokka and Suki interactions sm it was so cute and wholesome

Katara is perfect i will kill and die for her

Azula’s opening scene being her manipulating those people trying kill ozai ultimately leading them to getting burned alive by him and smiling - literally so fucking good. she is the best villain in history of forever

really good move having the mechanist (Sai!) and Teo be in Omashu imo. having them destroy the northern Air Temple so carelessly always pissed me off

THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS ARE LITERALLY PERFECT I AM SCREAMINGGGG

I was wondering how they were going to introduce the Mechanist and Jet in a limited amount of episodes but I like how they combined the two stories

Also Sokka absolutely nerding out in the Mechanist’s home is so important to me

Zuko getting has ass beat by that lady for fighting Aang is literally so funny and reminiscent of the goofy aang vs zuko fights we see in season 1 (to be clear: i adore zuko. this is NOT hate on him)

Zuko losing shit about his notebook and trashing his room and then outing himself as a fire bender in Omashu is so perfect. god i love him so much. it’s very season 1 zuko. it’s giving I DONT NEED ANY CALMING TEA!!!

things i was not a fan of: (some of these are a little pedantic i’ll admit)

Exposition is a little is a little janky but i’ll forgive it i guess bc at least it isn’t egregious as The Movie That Shall Not Be Named

Aang leaving just to get fresh air/clear his head and intending to come back is a silly change to me. all i keep thinking about is the storm where we got those epic Zuko and Aang parallels which now doesn’t really work and also takes away a lot of Aang’s depth. A good change adds to the story, but personally this seems to take it away

WHY would they not make Katara the one to bring him back from the avatar state? just seems like a strange choice to me? not saying this from a shipping point at all but that moment is a big step to their bond/friendship especially since they have only just met

Still don’t understand why they made the head of the village Suki’s mum. like i don’t think it’s a terrible choice but they still could have let them have a mother/daughter bond but still let Suki be the leader without any implications of nepotism. it mostly seeems silly

tl;dr - really enjoying it so far!

[pia-nor481]

She…what? Chapter Two

Lando Norris x reader, hints at Daniel Ricciardo x reader

2.6k words SMUT

Chapter One | Series Masterlist

"Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will bring you back." Her words never left his mind, it truly infected him. Lando knew, that no matter what, he would see her again; from just a kiss he was addicted. He climbed out of bed slowly, annoyed with himself for being so hard at the thought of her. It was early, even for him, Wednesdays were often more taxing than the actual race, the first few hours were perfectly fine, but then the repeat questions would get irritating and Lando would slowly lose his patience. His feet padded loudly towards the shower, hard cock aching, his eyes were barely open as he stepped past the glass door, hot water relaxing him. He felt every muscle in his body relax as soon as his hand reached his cock. Every time Lando masturbated he did, relatively, the same thing, a tight grip and a fast pace. His forehead hit the wall softly as a quiet sigh escaped his mouth. He could feel the build up of ecstasy already, clearly still excited from his dream. 

It felt almost lucid, the feeling of her cunt around his cock, or the scratches against his back. She was screaming his name in pleasure as the bed below them became surreally wet as she convulsed around him and writhing below him. Almost as if it was all real, until the alarm of his hotel neighbour awoke him. This was the first time that Lando had ever dreamed, so he was surprised that he even remembered it. But he was the most shocked that he was masturbating to it, this was the first time, in a while, that he was touching himself without some form of porn in front of him. Maybe that's why he was already so close to the edge. Squeezing his cock tight as his hand jerked up and down faster than before, loud huffs and groans leaving his mouth, echoing off the walls. Lando was barely able to control himself  now, imagining her cum, the thought of her mouth wide open pushed him to the edge, he painted the wall white with a choked moan. "Fuck." He was out of breath, practically gasping for air. 

A blush rose to his cheeks at the thought of what he just did. Lando made quick work of washing his curls, sure he was a little hazed, but he needed to rid of his thoughts as quickly as possible. He was clad in his usual McLaren polo as he rushed out of the Hilton room, if it wasn't for his neighbour's alarm he would have been late. He closed the door with haste and walked as fast as physically possible, not wanting to give Oscar the satisfaction of arriving at the motorhome before him. As he reached the lift he was met with a familiar smile. "Morning, Lando. Sleep alright?" Daniel was far too happy at such an hour, he pushed the ground floor button and braced for the unusual movement. "Yeah, it was alright. Just a bit worried about the car is all." That was a lie, Lando had slept great, other than the pain of waking hard. "It seems you had quite the eventful night." Lando huffed, motioning to his neck. A slight wave of panic washed over Daniel before he began to button up his shirt further. "Morning actually." Lando groan was all that could be heard, "Good head?" Daniel laughed manically as his spine became parallel to the the ground. The door opened and they walked out slowly. "Don't be jealous, you'll find out soon." 

They walked through the paddock almost peacefully, ignoring the world around them, this was until Daniel had reached his team and they had to part ways. Without noise, the thoughts of her came rushing back, Lando reached for his phone and headphones and panicked upon seeing the time. He practically ran towards Mclaren, receiving strange looks from those around him. Once he reached the door he was met with Oscar who had a large smirk on his face. "I'm keeping count, you know that?" Petty is not a word many would use to describe the Australian driver, but Lando was resisting the urge, a disappointed look adorned his face. "Are you alright, Mate?" They didn't have an extremely close relationship for a while, and both were to blame. Lando was upset that Daniel wasn't his teammate anymore, just as he was with Carlos, and so was a bit standoffish, often making the unconscious decision not to start convocations with Oscar, but he would never be outright mean or dismissive. Oscar on the other hand was quite shy, mostly due to his nerves and introverted nature. They were almost complete opposites and that could be difficult to work with. But eventually, after being forced to spend time with each other, they got relatively close. Oscar even stating he was closest with Lando on the grid. "I'm fine, just a bit distracted is all." Lando explained, rubbing his eyes as if he was tired. "Yeah I can tell." Oscar laughed, unzipping his hoodie and handing it to Lando, who was completely baffled. The Australian nodded his head down, and muffled another giggle with his hand. "Thanks...That's fucking embarrassing." Oscar slapped his shoulder lightly, "Nah, not if they've got you that excited... New partner?" Lando shook his head as they made their way to the meeting room, "We aren't together, but its hard not to think of her. Genuinely I can't stop." The conversation was making Lando feel worse, He'd only known her for a few days, yet here he is, walking around work hard, talking to his teammate about a woman he's not even hooked up with. "You'll be alright, I'm excited to meet her." Oscar winked while letting out a light laugh, knowing Lando wasn't too great at speaking to women, not that he was one to talk. 

After the fifth question about the comparison of this years car and the last Lando became angsty and sluggish. He was bored and in all honesty just wanted to be in the car, racing 19 others, desperate to win. His spine was curved slightly and his mind wandered; thinking about anything but the car. His microphone picked up the vibration of his phone. Lando was grateful that they were all being dismissed, so he could go back to the hotel and relax, maybe sleep a little more. Daniel walked past Lando and simply stated "Talk to you later, yeah?" He knew Lando needed so assurance and support, not just within racing, but also with this relationship of sorts. "Yeah, definitely."  What they both missed was Oscar's piercing gaze, he was close enough that he could see them talking, but far enough that he couldn't hear the words. Nevertheless, Lando grabbed his things and began walking to his hotel, finally unlocking his phone. 

"I'll see you tonight, room 693" 

Lando was excited, usually the unknown sparked fear, but not Lando, he couldn't help but smile widely in the lift. He was filled with Deja vu when he finally approached the door, bouncing slightly to ease the nerves. He knocked quietly just before the door opened and was met with her, and oh gorgeous she was. "Hello Lando." She gestured for him to come in, and he raised an eyebrow, seeing her fully dressed. He wasn't particularly sure as to what he was expecting, but this room was almost completely empty. Lando stilled and looked behind him, noticing the door was closed, yet she was nowhere to be found. "I saw your interviews, well only some, I don't know how you do it." She practically appeared before him, and his shoulders lowered as he began to relax, enjoying the warm tone of her voice. He could listen to her speak for hours, he wanted to, Lando wanted to hear everything she had to say, everything about her. "You've been working so hard. How about I reward you?" She questioned with a sweet smile as she dropped to her knees. 

"Oh yeah?" Her only response was a quiet hum as she ran her hands over his thighs teasing him slightly, not that he needed it. She could feel the tightening of his muscles as she danced cross his body, she tapped lightly a few times, waiting to se if he would break, testing his patience, but he didn't whine, beg or even comment, he just let her continue her venture. In reality it took Lando everything he had not to make a noise, he was focused on feeling her. He wanted to remember every moment. She pulled on the hoodie around his waist, inspecting it before throwing it across the room. "Who's is this?" Lando was pulled out his trance at the question yet it took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. "It's Oscar's, my teammate." The clarification gave her a moment to pause, before touching him again; She palmed his impossibly hard cock through his trousers, pulling a low moan- that he tried to cover up with a slightly louder groan. She made a mental note that she needed to encourage his voice more, but that was an issue for later. 

"Do you like him?" Lando's mind was clouded, the feeling of release was coursing through his body, and it made thinking difficult, so she asked again, pausing her movements, hoping to receive an answer. "Yeah, he's alright." He struggled finishing the last part of the sentence as she began to pull the zip of his trousers down. "He must be more than alright, if he's giving you his things for no reason." She simply stated, look up at Lando, who's eyes were closed, one hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly. "Well, he didn't give it to me for no reason." She stilled her movements, waiting for him to continue, " I um.. You said no judging right?" He was apprehensive to even think about it, let alone say. "Of course." Her hands rested against her thighs as soon as she noticed the blush on his cheeks. "He...noticed that I was hard and you know, didn't think letting me embarrass myself was a good idea." Lando felt like a small weight was lifted off his chest, letting go a a breath he was unaware he was even holding. "Why were you so hard then? hm." She said in a flirty tone, pulling his boxers down, getting excited when she saw his cock bounce slightly, hitting his abdomen. "You...even just the thought of you." She was taken aback from his statement, this feeling was accompanied with a sense of flattery. No one had ever said such a thing to her face, she could feel an ache developing in her lower body, but she pushed that thought to the side, choosing to focus on Lando. "I'm pleased that you feel so strongly, Lando. If I'm honest, I haven't been able to stop thinking of you. It's been so hard to focus." She emphasised the 'so' in a rather teasing tone while grasping the shaft of his cock lightly, keeping the grip loose. She began to stroke slowly, teasing lightly, waiting for a noise to slip from his lips. 

"Please, I've been hard for hours." It wasn't much of a beg from the driver, yet he couldn't help but comply. She licked a long slow stripe along the underside of his cock, which earned a choked moan and a curse of her name. She was quick to slip the tip past her lips and lick with a light pressure, careful not to overstimulate him, he placed a hand on the top of her head, careful not to push down, not knowing whether she liked it or not. She sucked the tip for a few moments before beginning to bob her head, taking about half of him into her mouth, creating a vacuum every few bobs. Lando's breath was already becoming ragged ,those breaths became gasps when the sensitive head brushed  the top of her mouth. Her jaw didn't even become tired, yet she could already feel him twitching, the grip on her head becoming harder. "Please, need to so bad, baby." Lando was barely able to choke out. He could feel his, muscles tensing and hips thrusting so slightly in desperation. She made the quick decision to focus on the tip and suck harder, and faster. Lando's huffs and groans became louder until he could no longer take it, tipping over the edge unexpectedly, ecstasy filling his body as one final groan left his mouth before he was panting. As soon as she felt his cum touch her tongue she slowed, but didn't stop, draining him the best she could. "Ah fuck, Baby, so good." 

She pulled away smiling, joyful was the only way to describe her reaction. Lando's face was painted with bliss as he smiled so softly, joining her on the floor. He kissed her cheek sweetly before burying his head in her neck, wrapping his arms around her body. Pulling her close, causing them to fall backwards, her chest flush with his. Lando's hand slid down towards her cunt, but she caught his wrist quickly. "Not yet, Baby. You need some rest." She whispered kissing him softly. "You really are a tease." He laughed, hugging her tighter as she slapped his chest. They stayed there for a while, Lando was basking in her presence, just enjoying her. He didn't want to ever leave, feeling elated was making it hard for him, he knew that he'd struggle to be away from her, Lando was truly enchanted. Eventually, she fell asleep against him so Lando made quick work of picking her up, and walking her to the bed, she looked peaceful and he felt wrong for wanting to disturb her. With her body placed gently under the covers, Lando kissed her softly before walking as quiet as possible and gently closing the door behind himself. 

Lando walked down the hallway free of care as he looked for Daniel's ,room, excited to tell him about his endeavours. He knocked twice and waited for the Australian to open the door. He was met with white enchante jumper. "Hey." Lando said, matching Daniel's smile. "It seems you've had quite the eventful evening." Daniel laughed as Lando walked in. "So...I was right?" They sat at opposite ends of the bed as Lando began his little rant. "I'm still in awe, I've never had head that good, I'm just struggling to comprehend it." Lando was giddy, more so than usual. They talked for a while, mostly about her, and what she could do. But it was quickly getting late and they still needed to prepare for the practice the following day. Lando begrudgingly stood up and walked towards the door. "Lando." Daniel raised his voice slightly to grab the attention of the other driver. "Just you wait." He smirked. 

As soon as the door closed he was reaching for his phone, ready to call her. "Hello?" She struggled to get out. "Oh were you asleep?" Daniel almost whispered out, faking sympathy. "Yeah, it's okay though. Are you alright? Usually you come barging into my room when you want something." He laughed as he laid his head against the pillow. "Well, technically it's my room." She couldn't argue with him there, he paid for all her hotels and flights whenever there was a race, or if there wasn't a race, he'd make sure she was with him. "Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice." She giggled at his blatant lie as she slipped the McLaren hoodie over her shoulders. "Okay, Okay. I'm just making sure you're still up for tomorrow morning. See I even have my hand or my heart." 

"Of course, anything for you Danny."

Chapter three