Mori Ogai X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Hi!

I'd like to request something with Mori Ougai (bsd) being head over heals for someone in the port mafia (who has the same status as Chuuya, but I can't remember what it's called, sorry...). Preferably ending with smut.

I couldn't find of you were open for requests or not, so sorry if this comes at the wrong time, and also okey if you decide to not Wright this, thank you either way

Doctor Knows Best (Mori Ougai x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼. 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆, 𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳- 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁-𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝘂𝗻. 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁! 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 :)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

If you’re being honest, you’re more surprised that he hasn’t pulled you from your position yet. 

  It’s been a while since you’ve had a real command from him. One that really required your status as an executive of the Port Mafia, anyway. If it wasn’t dealing with paperwork or handling intelligence or giving orders from the safety of a nice cushy, building, it was just simply lying around. Waiting for something to do. Waiting for a reason to be here. Of course, you know you still have use here. Your status as a senior member and your special ability is what got you to rise in the ranks so quickly when you were much younger. But you’re not getting any younger like this. You’re not being very helpful like this. As helpful as you know you could be, at least. However…

  “Breathe in for me, my lovely.”

  You’re positive Mori is too into the idea of you being helpful right now. At least, not after the incident.

  That’s really the only plausible explanation for your situation right now. That’s the only way you can explain how you ended up in his old doctor’s office in the Port Mafia’s base in just a nightgown after he heard you coughing over breakfast in your room. He even made sure to give you a personal escort and everything. That is to say, he took you by the hand and fussed over you every second of the way - even in front of your subordinates.

  Now, if it were up to you, you would have chosen to be anywhere beside his examination table with all the top bottoms of your dress undone and the fabric settling dangerously around your shoulders as he goes through his usual routine of diagnostics. You would have chosen to be absolutely anywhere- except this close to him. And at the moment? You’re more than exasperated enough to make it known to him.

  “Mori, I’m fine!” You insist with a frustrated huff. However, you do end up giving in very quickly and giving him a deep breath in and out as he presses the cool metal of the stethoscope against your skin. You keep your eyes adverted, not at all willing to give into his overly concerned self. But your compliance ends up putting a small smile on his face that you’re able to spot just out of the corner of your eye- something that warms your cheeks and flusters you greatly. Still, you’re not willing to go down without a fight. Even if the man you’re duking it out against just so happens to be your very, very smug boss. “The other doctor said I’d be good to get back in the field three weeks ago! You can’t keep doing this.”

  At your protest, Mori just lets out an absent hum. Almost as if he doesn’t have a care in the world as to what you have to say or think or do. But you know deep down inside that’s a line. After all, he wouldn’t be showing this much concern over your health after the explosion you were in a couple months ago if he didn’t care about you. He wouldn’t be ditching the fancy black suit in favor of a measly little doctor’s coat and old purple button-up if you were someone else. Because you know he hasn’t done it to anyone- not even the other executives.

  And that’s what makes you so upset. That’s what makes you so frustrated. That’s what makes things so unfair.

  “A second opinion is common practice in the medical field, my dear.” He responds to you easily as a look of concentration passes over his face while he takes your readings. And it just makes you want to scream with just how quickly he’s able to brush you off. Though it looks like the anger had crept onto your face a little more than you were anticipating. Because all too soon, he’s taking the hand he put on your shoulder to keep you still and cupping at your chin to turn your head to meet his red eyes directly, a tight smile on his face. “And it’s Dr. Ougai, sweetheart. Remember who you’re talking to.”

  You swallow a little nervously at his gaze, but in reality, you know you have nothing to fear. He’s been tough on you before. He’s been tough on you and your fellow executives plenty of times before. Yet one measly explosion and a moderate concussion later, you’re just now allowed to have unsupervised time in front of a computer. And that thought now only serves to annoy you further. Way, way, way further.

  “I know exactly who I’m talking to.” You bite out, half a snarl curling at your lips. Mori only raises an eyebrow at you- expression amused and a little too playful for your liking. But you don’t give him the time of day to suck the joy out of your rebellion. You’ve just about had it with his coddling. You’ve just about had it with his constant nagging and the way he looks at you. Like you need to be protected. Like walking out of that explosion wasn’t a possibility that came with your job. Like you couldn’t handle the lifestyle you’ve signed up for yourself. You’ve just about had it. “I’m talking to my boss. The one who refuses to give me orders and let me do my job. The one who keeps calling me weak by never telling me what to-”

  And unfortunately right now…

  “You want orders?”

  …he’s listening loud and clear.

  For the first time in a while, Mori addresses you with a sharp tone. One that reminds you of what it means to be in the Mafia. To be skating on thin ice. But it’s what you wanted. That’s what you asked for. So that’s what you get. You made your bed. It’s only right that you’d sleep in it too.

  “Yes.” You answer quietly, keeping your voice nice and even to avoid showing any emotion.

  “Yes, what?” He shoots back almost immediately. The amused expression that was once on his face is gone- replaced by lips set in a straight line and half-lidded eyes that present all the seriousness that you would expect from a mafioso. And maybe it’s because you’ve been out of the game for a while than you’d like to be. Maybe it’s because of all this coddling and hand-holding that he’s been doing with you. Maybe it’s all that and a combination of more that made you feel so soft. So weak. Whatever it is, you have no doubt that it’s the very thing that caused you to let out another nervous swallow despite your best efforts to hide it. One that he notices easily. One that he addresses just as easily too. “Say it.”

  “Yessir.” You tell him, nearly slurring over your words in order to get them out in time. Back straight and tall. Eyes forward. Body stiff. Like a good soldier should. Like a good soldier should. But that’s the thing. That’s the thing about him that you didn’t get. It’s the fact that he didn’t want a soldier.

  “Good girl.”

  He just wanted you.

  You were slow to understand that until the final second. But the second you heard the purr of his compliment, you can’t help but feel it. You couldn’t help but feel like you had melted. Softened up a little bit. In a way that you’d like. In a way that Mori appreciated.

  And of course, as seconds passed by, things became more and more clear to you. After all, you think there’s very little that needs to be explained when your doctor and your boss all but tear the stethoscope from his ears and toss it elsewhere in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you. And you know there’s even less to be explained when those warning arms start creeping up the back of your nightgown and settling a little dangerously on your hip. And even less than that his deep, velvety voice is no longer spouting compliments. Instead- they’re pressing themselves against your neck and your collarbone and your shoulders and the valley between your breasts as he makes quick work of tugging down your already scandalously low-hanging dress even lower. In between the kisses he presses to your lips, of course. 

  And by the time your mind catches up with your body, you swear everything about you is overheating. The mere sensation of rough fingertips brushing over your bare skin- taking extra care to trace your new scars and your faded wounds- it’s enough to send you whining. And the mere sensation of his lips against your body- the little nibbles and the softness of his lips spreading here and there- it’s enough to send you squirming. Breaking you down and building you back into his image. Almost as if every time insisted you see a doctor or you take a break or you hold off going back to work was all in preparation for this one moment.

  “You want orders, princess?” He asks you finally, and you are not sure you have enough fire in your belly left to answer like the mafioso you’re supposed to be. Not that he cares. Not that he wanted that anyway. Because he wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of making you soft and pliable and desperate for his approval and his commands if that’s what he wanted for you, now would he. “You want to be my good girl?”

  As if that switch that was flipped on inside of you is now up and at full force, you start nodding your head like a mad woman. Like this was what you made for me. For following his orders. For following his lead. Whether it’s killing in his name. Whether it’s moaning his name. As long as he tells you to do it. As long as he commands you to do it. Then’s enough for you. In fact, it’s more than enough for you. 

  “Then lay back and open your legs for me, darling.”

  After all…

   “You can do that for your Doctor, right sweetheart?”

  …Dr. Ougai knows best.